Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee

Your Dragons

F*ROMANY**

In the back of the limo all was quiet. | sat as far away from Tiny as | could get. Anger burned inside of me, | took

his refusal to stop Mickey as a personal affront. | seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. Taking the word 'no' as a

personal insult. *Who the fuck was I turning into?*

*)esus. What is withthese days?*

| shouldn't be angry at Tiny, he was only doing his job. Mickey is his boss.

Besides, what did | expect Tiny to do? Pick Mickey up and sling him over his shoulders like a caveman? Then

carry him off into the night for his own good? Ha! If he had, I'm fairly certain Tiny would have been the next one

Mickey murdered. "I'm sorry," | heard Tiny say on my left.

Turning to face him, my body tingles with awareness. He's just *so* big. Even though I've crammed myself as far

as | could get away from him, he's still close enough that I could touch him if | wanted to. Two of him would

*barely* fit in the massive backseat of this limousine. Watching his hands open and shut as he clenches them

into fists along the delicious muscles of his thighs, concocts an image in my head.

*| want those hands on me. | want them clutching my hips while | ride him into heaven.*

The way his knuckles look inked with what looks like a dragon's tail is a serious turn on. | mean, this man is so

damn pretty, | may develop a serious need for him to fuckin front of a mirror. | want his dragons on me. All

over me. And the longer | stare at him, the hotter it's getting in this goddamned car.

The limo stopped at a busy streetlight and a peek outside toldwe were now in the heart of Downtown

Eastside.

"How far is the penthouse?" | rasped, already edging closer to him as liquid fire dripped from my core. "How

much longer until we get there?"

His head was turned away from me, | could see his eyes in the reflection of the window as he stared out at the

congested traffic along the city streets. "With the traffic the way it is, ten minutes." Tiny inhaled a deep breath,

then turned to face me. "Why? Are you hungry?" His dark chocolate colored eyes appeared defeated as he

searched my face, though | wasn't sure why.

"I *am* hungry," | admitted, nodding. "That's definitely true," | whispered.

Tiny leaned his head back against the seatrest then closed his eyes as said, "I blew my only chance at you.

Didn't I?"

My head snapped in his direction, eyebrows drawn upward in disbelief. *Is this man kidding me? | could make a

list right now of all the things | would be willing to let slide just so that | could ride his dragon every night.*

His eyes remained closed when | didn't answer him and | watched his chest rise and fall in disappointment, as if

he actually *believed* what he just said.

"Seriously," | asked him, "is that all that's bothering you?"

His eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to stare at me. "No," he answered seriously and the limo finally

started moving again. "There are more than a few things bothering me, but out of all of them, that *might* be at

the top of the list." The spingy brown curls on the top of his head make him look *so* young and *so* handsome,

| want to touch them and it's almost too hard to resist. "I'm not a boss. I'm just a captain. There are a lot of

things I've wanted to do for you since | met you, that I'm just not in the position to do." His gaze lowered, locking

on the lower lip | was presently chewing on. "I get that you like men that are a little older. Men that have actual

*power* - that can *do things* for you without having to ask for approval first. | wish | had that for you, but |

don't."

"What? A little older? That includes *you* then too. Because you're a little older, are you not?" | pointed out

almost bursting into giggles. "You think you don't have power? Is that what you're saying?"

He squinted at me, his head still stretched back as he watched me. "I don't."

| wanted to touch him *so bad.* Shaking my head at his ignorance, | licked my lips then fixed my gaze on the top

of his shirt. "But you do, though," | said throatily, taking off my heels to pull my knees up underneathand

turn my body in my seat. "You have more power than I've seen in any of them." My eyes wandered over the

buttons of his shirt, my fingers itching to reach over and undo every one of them.

He snorted. "How do you figure that? *I do* what *they say.* *Not* the other way around. For instance," he

began, watchingcarefully as | inched closer and closer to him on the seat. "*If* | wanted to have you, like as

in, justand you, | would have to ask permission first and the answer would most definitely be no."

"What?" | gasped, only half listening until he said that part. My eyes narrowed. "Are you saying that if | wanted to

fuck you"-he groaned-"*right* now, and | mean *right now* - like climb on top of you and ride you in the middle

of traffic, kind of*right now* - that you would say no to me, because you don't have permission*?"

His jaw clenched, and he didn't answer me. "It wouldn't mean that | didn't want to," he said apologetically.

As | watched the muscles in his arms flex and ripple with movement, | could hardly contain myself. *Is he for

real? Well fuck that dumb shit.* Let's just see...

The intricate details of the dragon's scales over the top of his forearm were swelling and rolling, bringing the

tattoo to life on his flesh, beckoning me, *begging*to touch them. To *explore* each and every one of them.

After one last glance outside to confirm that we were still in gridlock traffic, | decided it was time. *He thinks |

like men with power and he's not wrong, but he is confused.*

"You're right," | said in a voice just above a whisper. "I do like men with power."

He stared atas if to say, *yeah, | know.*

"The kind of power that can carryto bed at night when I've passed out on the couch," | said, leaning forward

and placing my hands on the top buttons of his shirt.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes growing heavy and shuttered as he straightened his neck to stare down at

my hands.

Unbuttoning each one as slowly as | could, | continued to speak in low, hushed tones, "Or the kind of power that

can holdup against the wall and plunge itself deep inside of me, over and over again. Power that would have