SACRIFICE | MAFIA ROMANCE | SMUT

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I rolled around in the world's comfiest bed, snuggling against duck feather pillows and stark-white sheets. "Amazing," I hummed, kicking and thrashing my freshly shaved legs, immersing myself with lavender-scented silk and balls of cosiness. "I'm living here forever."

Through the ajar blinds, soft morning rays drifted into the box-shaped bedroom, something so normal yet unprecedented for someone who spent God knows how long in captivity.

Yawning, I sit taller, letting the duvet fall to my waist and stretch my arms high.

"Nice tits," a rough voice drawled, and I shrieked, burying myself under the comforters in a panicked frenzy. "Calm down, lass. I was only pullin' ye leg."

Tommy, I believed, closing my eyes. I am hardly naked. In actuality, Jace's oversized hoodie entombs my frame, so his lecherousness and the lewd remark is absurdly comical. "I wish I had a nice rack."

His throaty laughter tugged a smile to my lips. "Anythin' more than a handful is too much," he futilely salvages himself. "Well, for me, rather. I'm a nipple admiring kind of guy."

I threw the covers from my face. "Are we seriously conversing about nipples?"

The bare-chested troglodyte openly stares at my cotton-clad chest. "There's a half-naked woman in my bed," he said, and I spied the room and its spotless state. "Surely, ye cannot blame me for tryin' my luck?"

I suppose he had a point. I am, after all, hauled-up in his incredible bed and tranquilising space. "I didn't know this was your room." Rolling out of bed, I whipped unruly hair from my face, feet sinking into the plush cream carpet. "I thought Jace claimed your room..." Shut up, Alexa. Tommy thinks Jace's my boyfriend. He'd assume I shared the man's bed.

Tommy sliced his eyes, adjusting his grey low-hung jogging bottoms. "Was there a question?"

"Where's Jace?" I asked, tugging my hoodie sleeves.

"He's in the kitchen, making his woman breakfast." He brushed past me, opened a wall-mounted cupboard, searching for a clean T-shirt. "His words."

I find it hard to believe Jace referred to me as "his woman", and I highly doubt the man is making me breakfast. Gunky porridge comes to mind. "I'll come back and change the sheets—"

"It's no problem," Tommy assures, putting his back to me. "I quite like ye smell."

"My smell," I repeated, sneakily sniffing the hoodie collar; it's his coconut-scented gel from last night's shower. "I smell like you."

He winked, the muscles in his arms flexing as he pulled on a T-shirt. "Jace isn't gonna appreciate that, lass."

Beneath his top, he scratched his chest, exposing his washboard of abs. I vacillated my gaze from his muscular abdomen to his lips—the lips he's currently pulling between clenched teeth.

Itching the back of my neck, I blinked under knitted brows.

Eyes fixated on mine, he released his lower lip and slowly dragged his tongue across it.

What on earth is going on?

Tommy closed in, his dominant frame towering over me. "Do ye like what ye see, lass?"

Is he flirting with me? God, I am senseless, clueless to male advances. "No."

His brows jumped. "No?"

"I mean," I stuttered, wrangling my fingers. "Well, you're a nice-looking guy, but I'm with your...Jace"

"Cousin," he fills in the gaps, deliberately smothering my breathing space.