Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee

Untouchable

**ROMANY**

Fifteen minutes later, I stood in front of the full length mirror wearing the tiniest, most revealing, french maid uniform ever created. The corset was too tight and the brazier fabric too soft, so my tatas ended up hyper dimensional and with too much bounce. Round and barely contained, the elastic stretched so tight that my nipples were only a ruffle away from starring in the show. I would have to be extremely careful that I didn't reach for anything extreme. But I did like that the straps were cinched into ruffles that fell off slightly off shoulder. Every time they fluttered downward, I felt like a foreign goddess. The effect made me feel wonderfully sexy. As far as the skirt went, it might have been a decent length on an average girl. Unfortunately, my ass was far from average and the stack on my back made the skirt that much shorter. I was one breeze away from flossing my thong. The one saving grace was that the shoes paired with the outfit were platform, not stiletto. *At least I will be able to walk easily enough.*

After twisting my hair up in an extravagant bun, I left my silver streak down to curl around my face and caress my shoulders. One ballerina spin later, I was ready. "This is a very unprofessional dress," I said to my reflection. *Knock, knock, knock.*

That had to be the dinner cart. One glance at my phone confirmed that the time was now five forty-five p.m. Scampering through my bedroom door, I was met with one of the lady maids from that morning. Also dressed in a french maid outfit, but in an entirely different style. I smiled at her brightly, only for her to roll her eyes at me and spin on her heels.

"Wait!" I called out to her. "Where do I take the cart when I'm finished with it?"

She turned around slowly, a cold sinister smile playing across her lips. "Who knows?" she said with a shrug, then disappeared down the servant's elevator. "Bitch," I snapped softly, before I made my way down the only hallway I hadn't yet explored.

Believe it or not, that fucking dining cart was pretty damn heavy and I found myself fighting with the carpet as I pushed it along. It just didn't want to budge. No matter what I tried to do to it, it wasn't going anywhere. Nearly in a state of panic, I decided to close my eyes and take a few deep breaths.

on," someone said next

and biceps on full display. Strange winding tattoos, that appeared to be some kind of thorns and vines, circled his wrists before they spiraled up his arms to disappear beneath his sleeves. *He is gorgeous.* Softly tousled hair was cut fashionably short, with the bangs falling a bit longer in the front as he bent down to release the brakes on the cart. The gentlly styled locks were the same color of barely wet sand just

to my hips, then my hips to my legs, and back again. "You must be Romany. Wow. You don't look at

spell is

out. I'm not blind, I know I look nothing like Ruby," I quipped. "And yet oddly enough, I continue to remain off the ledge, somehow having accepted that fact and choosing to carry on. I am like a living and breathing miracle. Or a cockroach, forever

down the hall toward a set of double doors, on the other side. "I didn't mean it in a bad way," he said, his gaze walking over me again, but much more slowly. "It's just that, when Ruby called me and asked me to come home early to watch over her baby cousin, I pictured a younger version of her. A gangly,

might never physically recover from touching his skin. "Ruby is not an alien. She's

curved his lips in that moment was soft and sensual. Shuttering his gaze behind impossibly thick lashes as his eyes centered on my mouth, he said, "You and I must have a completely different

supposed

view of my backside in that ridiculously

she ask?"

gaze dead on as he reached over

from the deep dark depths of the room beyond. "Which should have been virtually impossible given that you had fifteen minutes to cross the hallway. Enough with the standing around. Come and do your fucking