Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee

Bella Bambola

**ROMANY**

I could still feel that asshole, Romano, watching me when the waiter came to take our orders. Glancing around, I realized that Simone and Pinch were nowhere to be found and Tiny was MIA as well. *Where the hell did they go?* With a shrug, I went ahead and ordered the Cioppino and a fattening bowl of tuxedo mousse for dessert, then watched as Mickey whispered into the waiter's ear for five whole minutes.

When he was finally done talking and the waiter disappeared, I asked, "Where are Simone and Pinch?" I cursed, "Damn it! I meant, Bruno. Where did they go?"

"I had the manager escort them to a special, much more private, table," Mickey explained. "They looked like they needed one."

Nodding, I faced his way, scouring the restaurant for Tiny in my peripheral. Even though Mickey pretends to be unconcerned, I have noticed him becoming increasingly jealous. Just the way he looked at me a few minutes ago,*before* he learned that Paul Romano was only a few tables away, was alarming. There was anger *blazing* in his eyes and his face puckered with discontent when he glared at me. When he shifted his attention from me to Tiny, I honestly thought he might explode. But Tiny was quick in diverting him, knowing exactly what to say to deflect Mickey's anger.

"You said... Pinch. Don't act like you didn't," Mickey accused and my eyebrows shot up like spines on a porcupine. I leaned forward eagerly, resting my chin on my hands as I waited for whatever nonsense he would spit next. "He must be new, no? Who the fuck is he? This *Pinch*?" He rolled his eyes, lifting his chin toward the bar in the center of the dining room. "Wait, don't tell me! It must be one of the hot waiters, or the bartender."

I sat back slowly, a ball of anger twisting in my gut as he shook his head incredulously. "No," I snapped, wringing the cloth napkin between my hands instead reaching across the table to twist his neck. *Boy oh boy, he is losing it. Fucking paranoid.* "That's my name for Bruno when he's not around. Pinch."

Mickey stiffened, a tumbler of whiskey frozen about an inch away from his lips. Eyes darting back and forth, he looks at me oddly. "What? Why?" Then he continued to drink.

I shrugged, taking a sip of my water. "He reminds me of a miniature bulldog. His face... it's all jammed in the middle... all soured up. Pinched."

shower of whiskey sprays across the table with my remark and Mickey is choking to death in

scooting closer to him and pounding on his back to help him regain

to me. A gleeful, barely contained chuckle sputtered from his lips as he smiled at me - like *proper* smiled - for the *first* time in

whispered, granting him a smirk of my own. "You gave me a *real*

me. Then, with a sly grin stretching across his face, he snickered again, burying his face in his hands as

I realized what an awesome idea

warmed as some of his recent tension disappeared. The lines of worry

"Oh yeah, sure. Of course. I come here

holes over my bosom and making my body hum with energy. "Three and a half years," he stated. "And do you know

shivering with pleasure as his fingers circled over one nipple and then down over my

over my thigh, stroking toward

"From what I understand, the owner named it after a woman he spied on

my hips jerking as his touch became more and more focused. I didn't even give a damn that we were in the middle of a dining room. My eyes closed and I began to wiggle in my seat, my orgasm hovering over me like a feather tracing over skin. If he didn't give it to

and beneath my bikini bottoms underneath. I moaned, desperately, my hips bucking upward. "Everybody knew how insane she was making him. How *dangerous* his fascination for her was becoming." I whimpered, as my pussy began to clench and juice, and my hip began to gyrate in small, wild circles. "So he stopped talking about her to them. And pretended not to stalk her late at night. Soon, they began

my eyes in frustration. "Why did you

don't have time