Tonight is going to be swell! I've spent the morning with Cal while my brothers took the Romano sisters to the park. It was the sweetest thing to see several serious men marching little children down to the playground.
Callahan has been planning to teach me some self defense for a while now, so we spent many hours going over flicks and kicks. My personal favorite was when I needed to throw my opponent off balance, and I was pressed right up against a shirtless, godly figure. Golly me...
This was quite scandalous, yet for some reason I had no revulsion toward his lack of shirt. My cheeks were warm, and I was working up a sweat in my thin cotton dress.
Cal was rather distracting, as were his untimely kisses and caresses while I was in the midst of throwing a punch. He even had the audacity to chuckle at me if I made a fool out of myself. Though most of the time his manner was seductive, as I've picked up from my novels. If I so much as swatted at his upper half I would find myself swept up in a pair of muscular arms.
We were on a tangent, and by that I mean we were wrapped up in a rough kiss. It was only interrupted when my father stalked in with a shot gun and demanded Cal put on a shirt.
Callahan looked affronted at first, and I tensed up at the flash of cruel gang leader that came over him. His frown quickly lightened into a boyish smirk as he slipped on a polo.
His lips teasingly brushed my cheek in farewell when he decided it was time to prepare for the dance.
I sheepishly grinned at his conspicuous flirtation and threw a dubious glance in his trajectory.
Cal walked out of the room, and I felt myself deflate. I pushed aside that feeling and put on a smile. It was time to get ready.
VOUS LISEZ
The Mafia Man
Roman d'amourRosalie O'Neil is sheltered and protected by her Irish mafia father and brothers. Taken out of her all-girls school during fifth grade, she's been tutored at home within thick iron gates for six years. No boyfriends, no sleepover...
