Mafia Man and Me

Chapter 18

I stared at the floor, shuffling my feet. I felt uncomfortable in the giant kitchen, watching Frank make dinner, his top off for a reason I did not know. He bounced around, metaphorically of course, frank is too civil to bounce about in the kitchen. I was not, but we don't talk about that. I tugged on the sleeve of the hoodie frankie had given me, blushing when he glanced over his shoulder at me. He must've seen the redness of my face, because he burst into that beautiful smile that I could stare at all day. I rubbed my eye with my fist, trying to stay awake for as long as possible.

We were eating late, much later than I was used to. His face softened at the simple action and walked over to pick me up, putting me on his hip. I smiled at him and kissed his nose, watching him start to blush. I put my head on his shoulder, my butt resting comfortably on his hip bone that he had managed to jut out in a way that appeared so sassy it almost outsassed me. ALMOST. I wrapped my legs around his middle, rubbing my face into his neck, trying to get him to consume me with his flesh.

He went back to stirring whatever was in the pot on the stove rubbing my lower back with his thumb and holding me up with his arm. I was slowly falling asleep to the sound of his humming and his near constant rocking as he waited for dinner to finish cooking.

"Wake up baby boy, dinner's ready." I grumbled and buried myself further into Frank. He gently pried me off of him, setting me in a chair. I whined and didn't untangle my legs from around his waist, instead clamoring back up onto his back, refusing to let go. "Baby you have to let go, please baby, be a good boy." I shrieked and kicked as he tried to set me down again, accidentally kicking him in his prince parts. He groaned, clutching at his big boy area, crumpling beneath me. I jumped off his back and ran as fast as I could. I heard heavy footsteps behind me, catching up. I made a hard left down a random hallway, hearing the footsteps slowly multiplying behind me. I shrieked and took another hard turn up some steps and down a dark hall that smelled like it hadn't been used in years. It smelled like blood and death and I slowed, no longer hearing the footsteps behind me. I watched my footing, careful not to step in the dark puddles of metallic smelling liquid with my baby blue socks. I squealed when I heard a squealch under my foot, and I glanced up seeing a man staring right back at me.