Maid for the Mafia

**ROMANY**

When I wake up I'm in Alex's bed with the covers pulled up to my chin. My body is nude, I can feel the soft drag of his sheets when I try and move my legs. But there is no one around me, although when I strain my ears to listen, I hear a familiar voice issuing threats from down the hallway.

*Mickey?*

*Mickey is here.*

I try to sit up, but my body protests. For some reason it feels like I've been sleeping for days, but that can't be right, can it?

*Oh my God! What if it is right? What if I somehow missed my meetup with Santos' men?*

"Shit!" I grumble as I straighten my back against the headboard of the four poster monstrosity that is Alex's pillar of rest. My breasts spill free of the covering and I'm glad to see that I was wrong, I'm not *completely* nude after all. Some kind soul took the liberty of dressing me in fresh underwear at least.

*But why?*

*Oh yeah. Dana.*

The memory of her face as she bled out flashes before my eyes and I resist the urge to smile. *Again.*

*Who the hell am I becoming?*

The soft patter of footsteps heads my way and I instinctively pull the covers up over my chest. When Mickey's bright green gaze catches sight of me, the concern in his eyes wrenches something in my chest. He shakes his head helplessly. "Doll," he whispers, stumbling to a stop in the doorway. He was obviously wearing a suit when he got here, but he must have shed the jacket and run his hands through his hair a thousand and one times. He looks like he's coming off a bender with his sleeves rolled up and the top three buttons of his shirt undone.

*But he also looks undeniably sexy.*

"Mickey," I whimper, dropping the covers that hide me from him as he leaps forward and gathers me in his arms. His scent envelops my body and I lean forward to rest my head on his shoulder while he takes a seat on the bed. "You've finally stopped shaking," he whispers into my hair. "Fuck. You had me scared."

"Is it tomorrow yet?" I ask him, as one hand strokes up and down my back soothingly. "Tomorrow?"

Sitting back to look at him, I ask, "How long have I been asleep?"

He pinches my chin with his fingers, his eyes on my lips. "A few hours. That's all." *Well, thank the Lord.*

I nod, releasing a slow breath. *Good, not too late then.* "Why am I in Alex's bed?"

Mickey's jaw clenches, his normally vibrant green eyes muting. "What is the last thing that you remember?"

I contemplate that for a second. Strolling through the hallway of my memories, Dana's shocked face emerges, then I work a little harder, blinking a few times as I struggle through the fog. Bits and pieces beyond the aftermath begin to take shape.

*Damien being alive... Damien carrying me to the bathroom.*

*Alex and Damien bathing me while I cried silently and shivered in the warm water of the tub.*

*Tiny dressing me in my underwear.*

*Some doctor checking my vitals and speaking in a hushed tone while the three of them looked on.*

*After that, I must have passed out.*

"Where's Damien?" I ask, my eyebrows drawing together in worry. "He was shot! Where is he? Is hel still okay?"

Mickey grins. "Yeah. He's okay. He's downstairs getting stitched up as we speak. Alex is being treated too." Mickey's eyes narrow, and one hand traces over my knuckles. "Why would you bruise your hands, doll? You didn't need to fight anyone." I snicker, the memory of punching Dana in the face tickling my lips. "That bitch was getting on my nerves. She needed it."

Mickey smiles, his forearms flexing as he squeezes my palm in his. "Next time, order one of the maids to do it for you."

That rips a full on laugh out of me, but the moment doesn't last. The sound of my phone chirping with a text message stutters my breath. *Oh shit. Santos.* "Where's my phone?"

Mickey's chin tilts back as his gaze assesses me. "Why? Who's texting you?"

*I don't have time for this shit.*

"Where's my phone?" I repeat through clenched teeth.

His flinches then smiles, reaching forward to draw open the nightstand drawer next to the bed. "Here you go, feisty," he says, handing me my device. Cradling it in my hands, I turn it over so that the screen isn't visible to his suspicious gaze. He notices, of course he does, and his sudden frown deepens. "Would you mind grabbing me something to wear?" I ask sweetly.

He studies me, his eyes going to the back of my phone before he nods and says, "Anything for you, doll. But can I get a kiss first?"

I reach out and snatch the front of his expensive shirt, yanking him toward me before I slam my lips onto his. His lips are soft and he tastes like mint, so I give in to the moment, but just a little. Sliding my tongue forward, I dip into his mouth and sigh when he presses back greedily.

"Mmm," he murmurs, his hands sliding upward to cup my breasts as he deepens the kiss that has quickly turned hungry. "Are you sure you need clothes?"

I laugh, despite myself, my eyebrow cocking upward. "Will you be joining us in the playroom tonight?"

Stiffening in my grip, he leans back away from me. His eyes are wary, but hot with arousal as well. "The playroom?"

Biting my lip, I let my gaze fall over his prominent shoulders and down his chiseled frame toward the seat of his anticipation, which is now rock hard and nearly sketchable behind his trousers.

"Yes," I breathe out. "I want all four of my favorite men n their with me tonight."

"All f-four?" And his cock jumps behind the zipper.

I grin so wide it almost hurts my mouth. "You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

He swallows thickly, then his eyes fire and he tastes his bottom lip in such away that has my clit pulsing to life. He says, "I'll go get your clothes."