Rockland: A Mafia Billionaire Romance by Shanna Handel

Author:Shanna Handel [Handel, Shanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2019-10-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

A few weeks later

Tess

It’s almost ten. I’ve changed into my soft flannel pajama pants and an oversized tee. Rockland’s only been here a few weeks and already, the pants are fitting better and no longer sliding down my hips. My hair is tangled on top of my head in a messy bun, damp from my post-workout shower.

He’s making me jog alongside him three days a week. I hate it. I get so sweaty and gross. I huff and puff next to him, him going as slowly as possible while my sneakers thud against the pavement. Beauties pass by and stare at me curiously as I try to smile and wave. He says soon I’ll look forward to these runs.

Don’t bet your billions on it, buddy.

Now I’m yawning. Stretching my sore muscles. Shuffling down the hallway in my fuzzy pink slippers.

But I don’t want to go to bed yet.

Not alone.

I hover in the doorway of the office, watching him.

He sits in the floral armchair, the blue and white slipcovered one, the least elegant piece in my home. It’s his favorite when he works nights, checking on the Parish and wrapping up his day. He sits, long legs propped up on the matching ottoman, computer in his lap.

Wearing old torn-up jeans. No shirt, his tattoo swirling around his bicep.

And he has on the glasses.

The specs he only wears at night, when staring at the glare of his computer screen. The frames are black, made of thick plastic. They make him look older than his age. More distinguished. And when he wears them, I get a little rush... down there. He peers over them, stroking that rough beard. His features a mask of concentration.

Aye, Papi!

Apparently, I’ve got a thing for a man in glasses. Maybe it’s the daddy complex in me that I’ve been accused of having. I’ve always loved a no-nonsense man and those frames...

He’s typing away. He hasn’t even noticed me. I’m enjoying the feeling of spying, observing him in all his sexy masculinity without getting caught. I know I should make my presence known. Bid him goodnight. Go up those stairs and lie on my side of our pillow wall.

But I can’t get my feet to move. I lean against the doorframe, nibbling on a few more bites of eye candy.

Why can’t I sleep without him?

I’ve grown accustomed to his scent. It’s perfumed all the bedding, my sheets, the very feathers of my pillows, they all smell of his masculine warmth. It’s that smell your skin gets when you’re lying on the beach, the sun shining down on you, and it’s time to roll over to your stomach.

Though, with my fair skin tone, that’s probably only after two minutes. Rockland on the other hand, when he takes off his shirt to climb into the bed, I can’t help but peek at that browned, sunbaked skin. How those ripped muscles must look when he’s up on his surfboard, riding over those turquoise waves.

Every night, he kisses the top of my head over the wall of protection.

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