Sexting the Don: An Age Gap, Mafia Romance (Silver Fox Daddies)

Good. Now, I want you to touch yourself.

The text is burned into my memory.

I can’t stop thinking about Enzo, our texts, our fun.

I close my eyes and think back to the other night, to how sexy Enzo was and the way he took control. The memory lights little fires under my skin.

I can still feel his hands on me, the roughness of his touch mixed with surprising gentleness. The way he made me feel was incredible. I’d never felt so alive, so completely consumed by another person. His commanding presence and the way he seemed to know exactly what I needed was intoxicating.

My mind replays the moments: his lips on mine, his body pressing against me, the way he made every inch of my body tingle with desire. He took me to places within myself I didn’t even know existed, and now I can’t stop thinking about him.

All I want to do is relive those moments with Enzo, to feel his touch again, to lose myself in the fantasy of him.

I give in to my thoughts, unable to resist any longer. Still in bed, I quickly strip off my pajama shorts and panties. My skin tingles with anticipation as I close my eyes, ready to bring myself to release.

Enzo’s deep voice echoes in my mind, his muscular body and commanding presence filling my thoughts. I can almost feel his hands on me, rough and gentle in the perfect combination. I bite my lip, remembering the way he looked at me. He knew exactly what I wanted and how to give it to me.

My breath quickens as I recall those sexy texts he sent, teasing me, asking if I was touching myself. The memory makes my heart race and my body ache for him. I let my hand slide down, finding the spot that craves his touch. I start to move, imagining Enzo’s strong hands instead of mine, his voice whispering filthy promises in my ear.

I picture him standing over me, that wicked grin on his face as he takes control. His hands on my hips, his breath hot against my skin, the way he made me feel completely owned.

‘Are you touching yourself, Mandy?’ I imagine him saying, his voice a low growl. I moan softly, answering him in my mind, feeling the heat build inside me.

Just as I’m about to lose myself completely in the fantasy, a car door slams shut outside, and the sound jolts me back to reality, shattering the moment. I open my eyes, my heart still racing, frustration bubbling up with the lingering desire.

“Seriously?” I mutter, glancing toward the window.

With a sigh, I sit up, the longing for Enzo still burning inside me, now mixed with the annoyance of being pulled from the edge.

I pull on my shorts and panties, hurrying over to the window. To my horror, Jimmy’s old beater of a car—a rusted-out blue sedan with mismatched doors and a dented fender—is parked in the driveway. I freeze for a moment, realizing he’s probably been out all night drinking again.

The sounds of yelling soon drift up from the house, but I can’t make out the words. I take a deep breath, quickly composing myself before hurrying down the staircase outside my apartment and into the house. The yelling gets louder as I approach the living room. I can feel the tension in the air, thick and oppressive. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of anger and dread welling up inside me.

I hurry into the living room just as the front door slams shut. Through the window, I watch Jimmy, clearly pissed, get into his beat-up car and peel off.

Mom is sitting on the couch, looking worn out. I sit down next to her, my concern masked by bravado.

“What did he want this time, Mom?” I ask, my voice steady but with an edge.

She sighs, rubbing her temples. “Oh, sweetie, he came to yell at me, demanding to know if I was hiding any more money from him.”

I frown, the worry creeping in. “He’s getting desperate, Mom. I’m scared he’s on the verge of crossing the line. What if he hits you?”

She shakes her head, her eyes weary but resolute. “He’s never laid a hand on me. He’s just lost.”

“Lost?” I scoff, unable to hold back my frustration. “He’s a menace, Mom. We don’t need him. We could get an apartment and be fine without him.” I’m thinking about the money Enzo gave me, though I don’t mention it.

She looks at me, her expression softening. “We’ve been through this. I can’t leave him. For some godforsaken reason, I still love him. And you know I’m a Catholic. Divorce is out of the question.”

I roll my eyes, feeling the familiar irritation rising. “Mom, nothing he does is going to change. And nothing I say will convince you to leave him, will it?”

She gives me a sad smile, then nods. “I took vows, Mandy. For better or worse. And this is just the worse part.”

I throw my hands up, exasperated. “I’m beyond tired of this. Tired of seeing you suffer because of him.”

She reaches out, patting my hand. “I know, honey. But this is my choice. I can handle your father. You focus on your life. Your future.”

I stand up, pacing the room. “And what about your future, Mom? You’re wasting it on a man who doesn’t deserve you.”

She looks down, the lines on her face deepening. “It’s not that simple.”

I stop, turning to face her. “It is that simple. You deserve better. We both do.”

She stands up, pulling me into a hug. “I appreciate you looking out for me, sweetheart. But I’ve made my bed, and I have to lie in it.”

I pull back, looking her in the eyes. “You don’t have to. There’s always a choice.”

She shakes her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “This is my choice, Mandy.”

I feel a lump in my throat, the frustration and sadness warring for dominance. “I hate seeing you like this, Mom.”

“I know, honey. But you can’t save me. You can only save yourself.”

I nod, knowing she’s right but hating it all the same. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. And if he ever crosses the line, you’ll tell me. We’ll figure something out.”

She offers a weak smile, wiping away her tears. “I promise.”

Something occurs to me.

“Wait right here,” I tell her, hurrying back to my apartment. I rummage through my things and grab the rest of the money Enzo gave me. I quickly count it out, realizing it’s more than enough to cover the next couple of months of the mortgage, along with household expenses.

Cash in hand, I rush back to the living room. “Here, Mom,” I say, thrusting the money into her hands. “Take this to the bank. Cover the mortgage and whatever else we need before Jimmy comes back.”

Mom’s eyes widen as she regards the money, totally confused. “Mandy, where are you getting all this money from? This is a lot of cash.”

I wave off her questions. “Don’t worry about that right now. Just trust me. This will buy us some time, keep Jimmy off our backs, and maybe even give us a bit of breathing room.”

She looks at me, her brow furrowing in concern. “But we can’t just take this money without knowing where it came from. Did you get into some kind of trouble?”

I shake my head firmly, my tone reassuring. “No trouble, Mom. Just a stroke of good luck. Please, just take it and do what needs to be done. We can talk about the details later.”

She hesitates, clearly torn. “I don’t know if I can accept this. It feels wrong.”

I sigh, my frustration growing. “Mom, for once, just trust me. I’m trying to help us. This money is clean, I promise. It’s a chance for us to catch a break. Please, take it to the bank before Jimmy comes back and blows it all on God knows what.”

She looks at the cash again, then back at me, finally nodding. “All right. I’ll do it. But we will talk about this later.”

“Fine,” I say, relief washing over me.

Mom clutches the money to her chest. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

I give her a quick hug, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Go on, hurry.”

A few moments later Mom heads for the door, and I watch her go, praying this will give us the breathing room we so desperately need.

I head up to my apartment, hoping to be able to calm down a little bit before getting ready for my day, a flicker of hope lifting my spirits when I realize I have a text. It’s Natalie confirming our appointment for four. Sighing with disappointment, I answer yes.

I was really hoping Enzo wanted to see me again and was texting to ask me out. I laugh as I look in the mirror while putting my hair up in a ponytail. As Jimmy would say, I already gave up the goods. I’ll probably never hear from him again.

As I dress in yoga pants and a tank top, hoodie over both, my mind drifts back to the sex. As a virgin, I had no idea what to expect, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. I couldn’t even give myself orgasms like that.

My pussy tingles at the memory, a mix of excitement and longing.

“Get a grip,” I mutter to myself, zipping up my hoodie. “You’ve got more important things to worry about.”

But as I head out the door, my thoughts are still on Enzo. If he doesn’t call, fine. I’ll handle it. But if he does … well, I just might end up falling deeper into whatever this is between us.

I chastise myself, grabbing my gym bag for work. As I sling the bag over my shoulder, I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever again find someone who can make me feel like Enzo did or if Enzo will come through and ask me out again.

Wishful thinking, I tell myself as I lock the door behind me. I make sure to lock the extra bolt this time, the one my father doesn’t have a key to.

Focusing on my day, I head out into the fresh air. The gym is waiting, and my appointment with Natalie later will help kick my butt into gear. Maybe a good workout is just what I need to clear my head and stop obsessing over Enzo Martelli.

Besides, if he wants me, he knows where to find me.