The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal.
“Whatever happens, Allison—whether it’s about your mother or my sister—you will not let it consume you. You will not shut yourself in this room crying.”
I met his eyes and nodded. “I promise.”
Dontrell shifted closer and placed his hand on my back. His grip tightened around my waist, pulling me against him. His lips crashed onto mine, the kiss deep, almost sexual. His hand slid up, fingers teasing the silk of my nightwear, his palm grazing the swell of my breast—
The phone rang again.
Dontrell broke the kiss, exhaling against my lips. “Pardon me, dove,” he murmured. “I have to answer that.”
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