Review by Casey McKay
I have loved the Bossman Series since the first book, but I think Renee Rose outdid herself with this one. She had me hooked from the very beginning, the opening scene introduces us to Summer—the Don’s daughter—swinging herself around a stripper pole. In walks Carlo, her dad’s right hand man. He’s a member of the mafia family, but he’s also close with her family. Carlo is a frequent guest at Sunday dinner, he’s known Summer a long time, and now he’s getting an eyeful.
And so their story begins. Summer begs Carlo to keep her secret. Carlo has an internal conflict about it. Sure, his first loyalty should be to Don Al, Summer’s dad, but he also realizes that now is his chance to help Summer out. He’s noticed that she’s been unhappy lately and he’s worried she’ll spiral out of control (as if finding her stripping wasn’t a big enough clue). They come to an agreement and then the heat really kicks up a notch.
I absolutely love how Renee Rose can make characters that would otherwise be unlikable, lovable. The first, more obvious one, is Carlo. He’s a mobster, but you love him anyway. Somehow it becomes okay and even understandable as you read this series. More notably, I love that I loved Summer from the very beginning. She is a spoiled Mafia Princess. It would have been really easy to hate her. I would probably hate her in real life. But even when she lashes out and gets kind of bratty, you understand it. She has a good heart and she’s trying to make everyone else happy—which is the exact thing that’s making her crazy. Who can’t relate to that?
I’ve been trying to put my finger on the exact reason why I love this book even more than the other two Bossman books, but I don’t think it is any one thing. The characters, the story line, the passion and the hellishly hot sex all compile to make a book you won’t want to put down. A book that stays with you after you read it. If you’re looking to be engrossed in a book, then look no further!
She gripped his shirt, her beautiful copper-brown eyes bright with tears. “You can’t tell him. Please don’t tell him.”
If she had any idea how much her tearful begging turned him on, she’d run back for the protection of that jackass bouncer in a heartbeat. Or she should, anyway.
He forced himself to ignore his growing hard-on. Her skimpy outfit didn’t help matters. But then, he’d always had a difficult time keeping his thoughts pure when it came to Summer La Torre. Gesù, when he’d seen her thrashing her hips around up on that stage… But turned on or not, the fact that the don’s daughter was taking her clothes off for money was a serious problem. He suspected the reason behind it would be even more unsettling than catching her in the act.
He covered her little fists with his hands. “Summer, you know where my loyalty lies. I can’t keep this from him.”
“Please, Carlo, you have to.”
Damn, she was cute when she turned those puppy dog eyes on him. But no, he couldn’t let this go. “Listen, doll, what you were doing in there” —he jerked his thumb toward the strip club— “isn’t right. You need someone to straighten you the fuck out.”
Summer blinked rapidly.
“You’ve been a hot mess ever since you broke up with your douchebag boyfriend.”
Her eyes widened, as if shocked that he’d noticed she hadn’t been herself for the past five months. Tears spilled from her eyes and streaked down her face. He looked away before he went soft on her.
The damn bouncer stood in the doorway, watching them.
“I don’t want my dad to know. Please don’t tell him.” The puppy-dog eyes pleaded. “I quit, okay? You heard me quit, right? I won’t go back, I promise.”
He shook his head, steeling himself against the urge to give her anything and everything she asked for. Don Alberto would kill him for keeping something important like this from him. Hell, Don Alberto would kill him just for having seen his daughter practically nude. Besides, Summer needed help. She’d lost her way and allowing her to keep going down this path of self-destruction wouldn’t do her any favors. She needed to be taken in hand, in a big way.
“I’m sorry, doll. You need guidance. If you ask me, someone needs to take a belt to your ass to teach you a lesson in self-respect.” Okay, he didn’t even know where that came from. It must be the Catholic school-girl outfit tweaking his inner dom.
Unbelievably, she gazed up at him with her big doe eyes and said, “Okay.”
He cocked a brow. “Okay?”
She swallowed. “You can do it.”
Why did she actually look hopeful about the prospect?
His cock surged against his pants and his suit jacket suddenly felt too hot. He stared at her, trying to deny the appeal of bending her over and lifting that miniscule plaid skirt of hers to deliver a spanking. “You want me to punish you?”
He pushed her back against the car, pinning her too-thin body between the BMW and his larger frame. She released his shirt and he grasped her wrists, pulling them together, tucked against his chest.
She’d stopped breathing. Her nipples protruded through her blouse and her lush mouth opened.
God, how he wanted to take it, possess her glossy lips. Own her. He forced some self-control. “No, cara mia. I can’t.”
Her face fell. “Why not?”
He pictured her ass bared for him, his little princess to punish and protect. His gaze slid away, down the row of cars, and one corner of his mouth kicked up as he considered the truth. “I’m afraid I would like it.” He looked back down at her and she flushed, eyes dilating. Her chest rose and fell, drawing his gaze down to her apple-sized breasts.
“You would like punishing me?” Her voice cracked.
He looked her square in the face. “Yeah.”
Damn if she didn’t look excited. Fuck if she didn’t push her abdomen back at his bulging cock, rocking her pelvis up. A low growl rose in his throat.
“I guess I’d prefer it that way.”
Oh, this was too. Fucking. Tempting.