REDEMPTION | MAFIA ROMANCE | SMUT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Liam

I blew out the candles on the balcony, scraped leftovers in the bin, filled the dishwasher with dirty plates and opened a bottle of white wine.

Alexa occupied the living quarters. She admired the glass unit showcasing vinyl covers and stored memorabilia from my youthful years. "You have a big collection," she said, reading thin spines. "Madness?"

"Brad's favourite." I handed her the wine glass. "Alongside Dexys Midnight Runners and The Proclaimers. He tends to invade my life."

She smiled fondly. "Does Brad live with you? He spent a lot of time..." When she lived here, I mentally finished. "In the guestroom."

"No, Brad has a place to call his own. Although, he might as well live here because he never bastard sleeps there."

Alexa selected a case and ran her finger over the small print. "I never pegged you as an Il Divo fan."

"What gave you that impression?" Removing the disc from the sleeve, I set it onto the old-fashioned turntable. "At what point is a man allowed to appreciate classical music without judgment? Or any music, for that matter."

She sipped wine. "I suppose."

"Isabel is my favourite." I watched her watching the disc rotate, and when Carlos Marin's baritone voice hit its pinnacle, goosebumps bespattered her arms.

Alexa's surprised by the instrumentals and powerful vocals. "It's beautiful."

"Yes." I meant her. I lifted the needle, returned the vinyl to its case. "Come." Draping my suit jacket on the back of the stool, I went to the kitchen. "Sit so that I can feed you."

"I think I have eaten enough for one night." Climbing onto the high stool, she placed her glass on the slate coaster. "I love this feature." Her investigatory fingers touched the marble counter. "You can't swing a cat in my kitchen."

I unbuttoned my shirt sleeves, rolled them up to sit casually at the elbows and extracted the dessert from the American style fridge. "I have quite possibly sampled every dessert under the sun." I unwrapped the plastic packaging. "But nothing beats Tesco profiteroles." Putting the chocolate pot in the microwave, I set the minutes. "What is your favourite?"

Alexa chewed the corner of her lip. "Lemon sorbet."

My eyes rolled. "So basically, anything that resembles ice cream."

She flashed me a knowing grin. "Basically."

"Easily pleased." Taking the container from the microwave, I drizzled melted chocolate sauce over our dish. "For you."

Her eyes widened with dramatic glee. Rubbing her hands together, she inspected each cream-filled ball. "I hope we're sharing."

"They are one of the same," I joshed, yet she selected the smallest. "I should imagine they equally taste satisfying."

"Aren't you eating some?" she asked, sucking cream from her thumb.

I poured Jameson into a crystal glass. "Maybe later."

"You wish to fatten me up," she joked, biting into another choux pastry shell. "I know there is a hidden agenda, Mr Warren. You want some meat on my bony arse, right?"

Fuck, I don't even know why I said those derogatory words. Alexa is thin compared to the women I usually pursue, but she has a sinful arse, one I'd like to sink my teeth into. "I don't want you to change." I wiped chocolate from her lips with my thumb. "I like you just the way you are."