Guarding The Bratty Mafia Heiress

OP

glaring at me from the corner of her eyes. "Who taught you h

ses as the needle digs into her skin. "You know, for someone

s pity them for survi

some men have a kink for being told what to do," I mutter

That explains so

at suppose

le around your entire life.

m alive, when our parent

ur own kink?" Her voice drops lower,

inal stitch. "I'm not tel

t. "Come on, I'm bored. I ha

en fifte

sically forever in

r centuries with

lso died of the plague and th

l smile that tugs at

, roleplay, forbidden fruit..." My hands pause abo

itement. "What is it? You cheated with a clos

ion the nosy heiress who sudde

you perv!" She is practically la

enty-three. Stop making it

my work. "And we're done here." I stand

ugging me back. "Hey, don't b

y admit to her smiling face. "I was youn

s fathe

to college, and I got stationed in Afgha

for any trace of emot

hs. She always knew how to push my buttons,

per, inhaling deeply. "In summ

inting with interest. "You'r

daring me to cross the line

my throat. I step back, forcing in a b

nter, smirking. "So, what gourmet disaster are yo

I ask, pulling out ingredients a

s without wine, and junk food." She ticks each of

, shooting her an unimpressed look

threatening allergies tha

again. "Grab the pasta from the sh

nd perches on a stool. "You mind te

s loudly on the island co

ld prepare this, I

u're on y

ur butt up and turn on the stove,"

spark of defiance in her

epping closer. "Vitt

but finally stands,

t's not turning on," she sa

basic life skill, for goodness' sake. I take h

rner while this one regu

prof

hop the anchovies, garlic, onion, and pitted oliv

ingers, making a face. "This is so gr

e of nowhere, and constant

, "fck!" The knife clattering to the

peless. "Is it deep?" I ask, wr

stening! I hope you're happy!" she yells, storming upstairs to

rdano would only make things worse

them into the pan with olive oil, and let the ki