Free The Bossman by Renee Rose Page A

other guy would take off his belt and spank his girlfriend when she grew hysterical? It was so not politically correct, it was laughable.
    She hadn’t noticed the spanking had stopped until Joey rolled her to her side and wrapped his strong arms around her from behind. She continued weeping, letting out every last bit of darkness within her. The truth was she didn’t know what it was all about--why she had been so rude, or had goaded Joey into a fight by leaving. All she knew was it was about her parents and something she’d buried without examination when she was fifteen. Something she still didn't want to examine.
    She drifted off to sleep, completely spent. When she woke, her panties were up and her jeans were off, but otherwise nothing had changed. She still lay on top of the covers of the bed, Joey’s body still curled around hers from behind. It’s funny; she wouldn’t have thought a big Sicilian man would be so into cuddling. She loved that he was interested in being close even if it wasn’t just for sex.
    Slipping out of his arms, she sat up and looked at her mafia man. He wore nothing but his boxer briefs and her eye traced his muscles with appreciation. If they lived centuries earlier, he would have been revered as a fierce warrior, a man who lived by a code of honor and unflinchingly protected and provided for his family. That’s really what the Mafioso were--throwbacks from another age. And she had to admit, it made her toes curl. Which didn’t mean she condoned any of it.
    A scar across his ribs stood out, pale and raised against his olive skin. She imagined it was a knife wound. She brought her fingers to it, working the tissue lightly to engage the fascia and help it reabsorb. Joey’s eyes blinked open and his arm wrapped around her waist.
    “Are you okay?” The deep line between his brow indicated genuine concern, causing her heart to flutter.
    “Yeah,” she said, embarrassed about everything that had transpired the previous day, including the way it had ended.
    “Are we okay?”
    “Yes,” she said, her eyes sliding away.
    “Please look at me.” He spoke it as a request, not an order, and she lifted her eyes reluctantly. “Are you sure? We’re okay?”
    She nodded, feeling her face grow warm.
    “Are you still mad at me?”
    She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t really mad at you. I guess I was mad at myself.”
    “What for?”
    She shrugged, which was really just one shoulder since she was lying on her side. “I don’t know. For not being able to handle myself over there. I felt awkward it had been so long, like everyone was going to be talking about me and grumbling about how I disappeared after my dad died. So I guess I was defensive.”
    Joey pulled her closer and kissed the bridge of her nose. “Sweetheart,” he murmured tenderly, “you are unbelievably deep.”
    She snorted. “Deep?”
    “Yeah,” he laughed, leaning up on his elbow. “Smart. Self-aware. Amazing.”
    That’s just because you’ve only dated bimbos. “Are you still mad at me?”
    “I wasn’t mad at you.”
    “Yeah, right,” she challenged, raising an eyebrow.
    “I wasn’t,” he insisted.
    “Well, you do the stern lecture pretty well.”
    “What, at the barbecue?”
    “Yeah.”
    He made a scoffing sound. “Yeah, and all it did was piss you off.”
    She climbed on top of him, pinning his forearms to the bed and rubbing her panty-clad pussy over his cock. “No, it was scary, you big Neanderthal.”
    He studied her, looking as if he wanted to ask something. His hands squeezed her ass and she winced. He immediately released her bottom. “Are you still sore?”
    “Yeah, a little.”
    “Is it all right?”
    She understood he was asking something more than the state of her ass. He was asking if the spanking had been all right, making sure she didn’t hold a grudge. She leaned down and kissed his lips, teasing them with her tongue, enjoying the feel of dominating him by holding his arms down,