The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance) novel Chapter 171

I’m groggy and sleep muddled when I pad through to the main sitting area of our living room in a loose summer dress I changed into, rubbing my eyes and yawning like I didn’t just have myself the longest siesta. Blurry eyed, cooler due to efficient AC and generally in a happier mood now I have slept. I wander towards the long leather L shaped couch where Alexi is sitting to slide down beside him and curl up next to that sexy body of his.

He’s on his laptop with his phone propped to his ear, leaning forward to the coffee table and has a brown file of papers open to his right. He’s working so I just lie down beside him and push my feet against his thigh to have some contact. I must have slept for a couple of hours at least as the lunchtime sun that was up when we got here is now lower in the sky which suggests late afternoon. I twirl my hair and watch him, feeling wholly content, sighing with just how quickly the resentment and scars from how he was towards me in the past are fading. My heart brimming with the adoration I feel whenever I look at him lately. He runs a quick gentle stroke over my foot to acknowledge my presence but doesn’t look my way.

“What else did you dig up?”

He’s talking to Mico I presume. I was a little shocked that our trip to Vegas was missing a ton of Carrero escorts until I overheard him and Gino, when we were heading to our rooms, talking about this hotel being secured by their Vegas relatives. Apparently, this hotel is connected to a branch that is being sold off to Carrero hotels and the security is already very Carrero embroiled from the other side of his family. His cousin Jake, along with his father and brother, are heading the takeover. Their family are merging two businesses into one and soon this five-star haunt will be emblazoned with a gold pentagon and a giant C. It must be a massive undertaking as this chain of hotels was once the Carrero empire’s biggest competitor.

They are slowly taking over the high-class world of hotels, spas and luxury cruisers from what I hear.

“My father is still siding with the board; my hands are tied unless something changes. She hasn’t done anything to warrant a heavy-handed retaliation, so they want me to find a peaceful resolution.” He sounds pissed, it’s subtle but that tension he tries to roll out of his shoulder highlights this is still a subject that’s grating on him. Alexi likes to be in charge, so his family clamping down on the course of action he wants to take is seriously pissing him off.

I don’t get why they care.

She is a nothing woman trying to meddle in affairs she has no business in. Her family were slaughtered and chased out of the city once before at their hands. I don’t get why they would stop him from getting rid of the problem this time when she has shown she is just as ruthless as her father was.

“No. Don’t. We will be back the day after tomorrow. Wait for me before we finalise the details. I need time to think this through and figure out how to approach it. Tell Santagato I will see him on my return. Keep everything low key as though nothing is amiss. We act like nothing has happened.” Alexi nods a few times as though listening to a response then says goodbye and hangs up, the scowl on his face deepening to a full throttle frown. He puts his phone on the table and finally leans back to scoop up one of my feet in large strong hands. Startling me with the sudden attention.

“You feel better after your three-hour nap?” He pulls my leg so my foot ends up in his lap and rubs it gently, massaging my sole enjoyably. Obviously not in the mood to discuss his call or what I overheard. Alexi is deflecting and I don’t want to talk about it anyway. That bitch can wait until we go home.

“Mmmm” His foot rub is divine, and I close my eyes to savour his hands on my body. Tingles creeping up my leg to my warm nether regions. Alexi’s touch is an aphrodisiac and already my mind is picturing him naked. He has always been good with his hands, even when he was being a jerk. He has a confident, firm touch and is good at working kinks out of all sorts of muscles. Getting his thumb right in there and teasing my limb into submission.

“Want to hang out here until dinner and have some fun or go act like tourists for a couple of hours?”

I’m literally torn. The thought of getting back in bed with him is an obvious first choice, but I did just spend hours in there and feel a little cooped up and in need of air. I want to explore with him and behave like normal people for a little while. I love him more when he’s disconnected from his business face and out with me as just two people in love.

Then again—sex. With my dominant porn star.

Decisions, decisions.

I never thought I would ever like a man being in full control in sex, by choice or crave it with him as much as I do. I always assumed that should I ever have feelings for a man he would be someone who submitted to me in the bedroom and I would call the shots in every way. It’s the only way I thought I would enjoy sex and feel safe with a man. Not Alexi. He is at his best when you let him take over, call the shots and manoeuvre you in any way he wants.

I know I’m safe with him; he wouldn’t use that time between us to hurt me ever again. I would bet my soul on it.

I trust him enough to know that we won’t go backwards. He could have punished me after leaving the club. He was beyond mad and it was a prime example of the time he would have in the past. He didn’t. Not even a little.

He just wants to keep me safe and I need to stop being suspicious of his motives and relax with him. Seeing control when he is being cautious is my biggest flaw. He loves me. I need to just remind myself of that every second. Even if it’s hard to feel like it’s true sometimes. He gives me more than sex; he gives me him and tender moments, access to his deeper gentle side. He gives me time away from his world so it’s just Lexi And Cam.

I know I will easily get both if that’s what I want. Sightseeing with his alter ego and then sex. I’m starting to understand the power I have over him and how he rarely refuses my requests. He’s a soft touch for his little redhead and it’s very cute.

“I want to have a soak in the tub, maybe after that, we can go wander and see some of Vegas. I feel dusty and sleep rumpled. You can come too if you like.” I throw him a sultry look, enticing him to come with me for some non-sexual intimacy and he continues to frown at me. Clearly has other ideas and sex was the answer he was aiming for.

“Go run your bath, I still have some calls to make. I’ll come keep you company in a few minutes.” He lets go of my foot, leans over me so he can deliver a chaste peck on my lips at a full stretch and then moves back to return to his previous position, leaning towards his laptop. I can sense his tension, and this translates to ‘go let me unwind for a minute, maybe have a vodka’.

I roll off the couch, pulling my dress up as I do so and make a point of walking past the table and around it, so his line of vision catches me slowly sliding off the only covering I have on. A slow, sexy tease up and over my head that is meant to get him moving a little faster. I might not want sex right this second, but I do want him to follow and keep me company.

By the time I get back around behind the couch, I’m trailing my dress behind me saucily and naked as a newborn baby. A glance backwards, a sultry side look and lip bite, catch him watching me walk away, eyes locked on my body, and I wink at him naughtily.

“I have more self-control than you think.” He points out and turns away with a smug smirk and picks up his phone. Makes a show of going back to his laptop, trying to prove a point and I stick my fingers up behind his back. Riled that he always has to show me he never going to be led completely by the nose when it comes to me. No matter how good I am at it.

I guess it’s mutual. I won’t ever by a ‘yes, Sir’ kind of woman, no matter how much I love him and how many times he makes me orgasm. I don’t think I would want him to be a ‘yes, Ma’am’ kind of guy either. Alexi is who he is, and his bossy dominant arsehole side is a huge part of what makes him sexy. If he got too soft and under the thumb, I think I would lose a lot of the sizzle I have in my pants for him.

I exhale with defeat and just pad to the bathroom while shaking my head at him. Immediately turning on the taps when I get in and readying it for my soak. I drop my dress on the floor at the door and go about preparing myself in the nude.

I tie my hair up on top of my head, cleansing my face in the mirror as my bath fills up insanely fast. Fogging out the reflection and filling the room with aromatic smells of the scents I poured in. A mountain of bubbles threatening to pour over the edge.

I look fresh-faced and rosy-cheeked, and staring contentedly at myself I realise, for just a second, that I look different. It’s not a major change, subtle but there. A softer almost surreal difference to my face that I cannot put my finger on.

I look young and healthy and somehow … glowing. It’s not the steam in the room or the lack of makeup. I have no clue what it is, but I don’t recall ever looking this alive and bright-eyed and cheery when I’m not even smiling. I just look … happy. Youthful.

I gaze for a long moment, zoning out in an empty blank daydream until the strong smell of my bath brings me back to the present and I realise it’s almost overflowing.

I shake it away and turn to the tub and turn off the taps, climbing in and sinking down into the very hot water to rest up against the edge with the attached headrest. Settling into a very comfortable, soothing position when surrounded by luxurious heat and that floaty feeling that water gives you. Submerging weary bones into a fully pleasurable weightless heat. Sighing with contentment at the unique joy of having yourself a bath. The most relaxing thing in the world besides orgasm afterglow with Alexi.

“Thought you might want this.” Alexi startles me as he walks in, carrying red wine for me and brandy for him and lays my glass on the edge beside my head. Coming to perch his butt on the rim of the tub and leans over me slightly, looming in and locking eyes. Still in his earlier outfit but his shirt is a little more wrinkled up.

“Thank you. Now get naked and get in.” I smile at him adoringly, but he just frowns at me once more. Dips his fingers in the tub and then shakes them off with even more of a furrow of those black brows.

“I’ll pass. I have not taken a bubble bath since I was about five years old.” He gets up, walks to the edge in the centre where a little wall juts out to join onto a low surface around the edge of the room, and sits down properly with more of a butt resting spot, to watch me soak.

“You’re not getting to sit and watch me if you’re not coming in.” I point out. Annoyed that he thinks all I wanted was his presence in the room and not naked beside me. He has no sense of intimacy and how nice it might be to share a bath.

Sex isn’t everything.

“I would like to see you enforce that.” Again, with that smug tone and I can tell he’s in that obtusely playful mode, yet still has that simmering aggressiveness of being pissed off. It makes for a weird mood and it’s times like this he frustrates me.

Petulant, childish and yet trying to be sociable.

“Fine … I just thought it would be romantic.” I sigh heavily.

“We already established that I don’t follow the normal trends of romance.” He sips his booze, undeterred by my obvious disappointment and I eye roll at him. Losing the good mood vibes and irritated at him for his lack of cooperation for something so dumb.

“You know what? Forget it, I thought it would be nice. Go back to what you were doing.” It’s a huffy response, born of lingering tiredness from the heat and just fragile sensitivity for no reason. I think I’m still rattled from yesterday’s events and I’m being stupidly emotional. Can’t seem to get myself in check since we got on the flight this morning.

Maybe that’s what downstairs with the receptionist was about too.

Yesterday I could have died. Despite not having the normal reactions to severely traumatic events that most women have, they do still haunt me. Yesterday was a horrible day, with a frightening realisation of how easily my life could be snubbed out. Those men terrified me. If he had taken just a little longer to find me … it doesn’t bare thinking about. He came for me, but it’s still hanging over me like a dark cloud of regret. I was so stupid and almost handed myself over to certain death.

I’m not pissed at him, I’m livid at myself.

Alexi sighs heavily, stands up as if to leave, ruining what’s left of my mood as a heaviness drags my stomach to the base of the bathtub and I resign myself to tears. Because that’s what emotionally fragile and stupid girls do when their boyfriends unintentionally upset them.

I stop mid internal rant at how much of an insensitive unromantic prick he is when he perches his glass at the end by my feet before unbuttoning his shirt slowly. Locking eyes on me and a hint of a begrudged smirk.

“I’ll have to shower that smell off me after this. Why do women have to soak in floral scented bubbles? What’s wrong with normal water?” He’s grumpy, that hint of childishness breaking through because I won, and I perk up and can’t stop the smile widening across my face. All doom and gloom jumping out the window to be replaced with a sudden rush of ‘I love you so much’.

Definitely hormonal and emotional today.

“Because it smells good and then so will I.” I grin at him, enamoured that he’s taking a dip with me just to keep me happy. Overwhelmed with a need to squish him in a grateful hug. Fizzing up inside with elation.

“You tell my brother about this and I may smother you to death.” He pulls off his clothes quickly and I lean forward to perch my arms on the tub, crossing them, and rest my chin on the hollow as I watch the layers peel away to reveal all that muscled toned body and black ink. Perving on him the way he did with me. Laughing at his threat and mentally filing it for future blackmail.

“You’re such a baby.” I point out and bite on my lip to curb the hot urges that flash through me when he takes his boxers off.

Even when it’s not erect it’s still impressive.

“I’m not drunk enough to sit in there for more than ten minutes.” He warns me and then walks forward and steps in. Making ‘ahh’ and ‘ouch’ noises as his foot hits the water. I can only guess he’s a pussy when it comes to hot water.

I like my baths at skin boiling temperatures.

“Jesus Christ, are you taking a bath or boiling soup? Cam, it’s like five fucking thousand degrees in here.” He snaps, dances his limbs about in it as he tries to get in properly and makes it way more dramatic than it really is. I just stare at him with one raised brow and immediately re-evaluate his manliness as he bops his butt in and out a few times before even thinking about committing to full-body submergence. It just kills all that alpha prowess dead, and he may have scarred me for life.

“Shut up and sit down.” I grab his hand as he flails his arms around and pull him to get him moving. I was hoping for an epic splash as he fell in but he’s too strong, and all I do is tug his arm, like a child wanting Mummy’s attention.

It’s painful to watch a grown man the size of Alexi, slowly lower his derrière into the bath for the fifth time, stopping and lifting with ‘ahh’ noises before his butt actually hits the base. Kills any sexual urges dead.

“I’m starting to think you were formed in hell … this is not relaxing. Pretty sure my dick will fall off.” He sulks when slowly leaning back, arms up in the air to avoid adding them to the burning pit of hell at the same time as his torso.

Baby!

“Jesus Christ. Its hot water, you absolute woman. Stop your moaning, lie back and chill out.” I assume the position as though demonstrating but he just sits as he is, reaches for his glass and downs it in one. Sitting stiffly upright and obviously afraid to lower any more skin into the water.

“Now what?” he asks expectantly. Staring at me like a child who just finished his candy and isn’t satisfied.

“Umm, you lie back, close your eyes and let the water pull away all your stresses. Soften the tension out of your muscles.” I look to the ceiling in exasperation and go back to my pre-Alexi invasion lounging.

He mumbles under his breath, something about sex being the answer to that and women being crazy.

He huffs, he sighs, and he turns the simple act of lying back into a monumental effort that has me eye rolling so hard I almost strain an eyeball.

“You know you can just get out again if it’s that horrendous.” I point out, feeling irritated that what should have been something romantic turned into Alexi reverting to the age of five and me feeling like a mother with an unruly child.

“It’s fine. I just need my skin to stop disintegrating, peeling off in chunks and then my skeleton can assume the pose.” He finally leans back and mirrors my pose, head on the padded waterproof cushion that is suction cupped to the edge and lifts one foot up so he can nudge me in the thigh and pushes me over further to one side roughly.

“What are you doing?” I ask, lifting my head to fix my glare on him. Annoyed that I’m now being kicked, and he is making this whole experience infuriating.

“I’m bigger than you are, I need more leg room.”

He shoves me again, bodily with his knee and hip and almost sends me under a mini wave he causes with the motion.

Ugh!

“Five minutes ago, you wanted to get out and now you’re stealing my space. This is not how I envisioned this going.” Sighing heavily, shaking my head at him as I strain to look him in the eye. That sinking feeling that maybe, call me crazy, he might not be the romantic type who enjoys shared bubble-bath time.

Shock.

“I don’t see how this is romantic. Women are fucking weird. Sex in water is dry and awkward and slippery. What’s romantic about getting naked and not being able to enjoy anything about it.” He genuinely sounds perplexed at this and that shrug sends me over the edge.

“That’s it! Get out … I’m never doing this again. Honest to God! If I ever suggest a romantic bath again, like ever, then give me a good hard shake and remind me you’re a tosspot about it and a fucking baby.” I sit up, sending water sloshing everywhere and my wine glass falls in with the overflow, turning the area around me red for a second. It just adds to my annoyed sizzling temper, insides twisting with the anxiety his behaviour is giving me and ruining the calm I normally get from this pursuit.

“Thank fuck.” Alexi darts up and sloshes even more water over me, soaking my hair that I was trying to keep dry and just stands in front of me in all his glory. A little lobster red from the chest down and oblivious to the fact he is standing bollock naked, staring, while I simmer and rage at him.

“Can we go have sex now?” he asks innocently, and I throw my bloody head support at him, whipping it off its suction cups and aim right for his dick with aggressive intent. He dodges and bats it away and hits me with that devilish smile of his. Amused with his own behaviour despite my obvious rage.

“Fuck off, you wanker.”

“Enjoy your rose scented wine water. I will await you on the bed … take your time. I have third-degree burns to recover from.” He hops out, grabs a towel and saunters off with it, not even trying to cover up or dry himself and I flop back with an exasperated ‘argh.’

“Don’t hold your breath. I happen to like long soaks that take hours!!” I yell after him, tone tight and snippy. Intent on punishing the sod for being his usual prick self.

I won’t make the mistake of trying to entice that tosser into something I deem romantic ever again. Alexi cannot be coerced. I should remember that.

He thinks I don’t know he deliberately goaded me into throwing him out; he knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to act like he was making the effort and I did ask him, yet he’s really not romantic at all.

Dickhead.

I should have known better!