The Mafia's Conman

Chapter Nine: Debating Over Food Should Be An Olympic Sport

Chapter Nine: Debating Over Food Should Be An Olympic Sport

That low life bastard deserves a slow, miserable death.

I'm going to kill him. Yep. I am going to slowly murder him.

I glared as Jackson, who sat in the chair across from me, glaring rightly back at me.

"So we're not going to talk about this?" He asked, breaking eye contact first. I just crossed my arms and looked away, ignoring him. "Come on, Christopher you-"

"Chris." I cut in, stabbing a glare at him. He glanced at me, his glare piercing back.

Undeterred and unintimidated, I scoffed at him.

-Less Than Half An Hour Ago-

"You're cute when you're mad." Jackson mumbled as he ran a hot tongue past my lips.

As his tongue explored my mouth and slowly made his way down my jaw to my neck- something I wouldn't have let happen if I could control my body at all- I couldn't help but release a small almost needy moan. Jackson practically growled at the noise- I swear, he actually is a werewolf or vampire or whatever- as his hands roamed down my body. I was getting hot and bothered, my inexperienced self not knowing what do do with my hands other than clutch at his shirt, trembling when I felt him unbuckle my pants.

Why am I allowing this!?

Then, just as Jackson's hand was about to pull down my pants- the door ripped over.

Startled, I practically kicked Jackson off of me. Having snapped out of my daze, I bolted up and away from the devilish man.

Jackson stumbled, sending a heated glare at the intruder. I glanced also, finding an older male there, visibly shaking under Jackson's murderous stare.

"Sir, the kitchen staff wanted to know if there was a special recommendation for today."

-Present-

"Ramen." I commanded, nose-to-nose with Jackson, this time prepared for a sudden sexual attack.

"No way. Pizza." He growled back.

"Pizza!? You're a goddamn mafia trillionaire, with your own kitchen staff, and you want pizza!?"

"So?"

I didn't know how to respond to that.

"Touché. But still, ramen."

We glared at each other; and I was sure that 98% of whatever relationship we had was just us glaring at each other.

"Fine." He finally gave up after what felt like hours.

"Fine." I mocked back, mimicking his low voice.

"We'll have both." He smirked at me, knowing I'll get annoyed.

I swear, we probably sounded like an old married couple.

"Fine." I say again, crossing my arms.

_____

I sat happily slurping my noodles, glancing at Jackson's glaring form every once in a while.

"What?" I finally snap, annoyed.

"You're surprisingly annoying." He snapped back, practically throwing his empty plate on the small table in front of us.

"You should have known of that before you kidnapped me." I put down my bowl too, crossing my slim arms, glaring at him.

"They did warn me you were a little... extra." He sighed, giving up glaring and running a hand down his face in a tired gesture.