by Renee Rose
I inhale.
“Exhale.”
I blow out my breath and he presses the plug forward until it stretches me wide and then, thankfully, seats. The result is a constant pressure on my anus and a full sensation inside.
“Now get up.” He gives me a light slap.
I move slowly, almost afraid of jostling the plug. Every movement brings fresh stimulus to my anus. “Oh, boy.”
Gio splays his hand on my lower back and pulls me against him. “You okay?”
I love that he checks in, especially after being so dommy.
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Then get in my kitchen.” He gives my ass another light slap and I scoot forward, shivering at the wealth of sensations coasting through my body. After a few steps, I get accustomed to the plug and sway my ass a bit, knowing he’s walking behind, admiring me.
“That’s it, gorgeous. Work it for me.”
I do. I strut around the kitchen as I prepare two beautiful top sirloin steaks with sautéed mushrooms and an arugula-grape salad with crushed hazelnuts. I’m confident in my meal selection and even more sure of my sex appeal. With Gio, I’ve become a sexual creature. I don’t know— it’s like I never really inhabited my body until he came along and woke it up. Now I adore my skin. I’m looking in the mirror, enjoying my reflection, which makes me more inclined to use make up and do something with my hair. Because it’s fun, not because I feel like I need to.
I’m falling in love with Gio Tacone.
That is the unfortunate fact.
Unfortunate because I still can’t find it in me to fully trust him. After a lifetime of my grandfather grousing about the Tacones, warning me to never, ever get involved with the mafia, it’s hard to not fear I’m making a terrible mistake.
But that’s my mind.
My heart? My heart’s already decided.
He’s got the keys.
And my body? Heck, he had this body from day one.
He sits at the breakfast bar now, covering his mouth, his eyes like burning coals. His body is a wound coil, ready to spring. Tension and expectation crackle in the air between us.
I finish preparing the meal efficiently, then shoot Gio a pleading look. “You’re not going to make me keep this in during dinner are you?”
I don’t know how I can believe Gio’s dangerous, because the way his face instantly softens is breathtaking. “Come here, angel.” He stretches out an arm.
I sashay out of the kitchen and he loops an arm around my waist and escorts me to the bedroom.
“Ready for your punishment?” he purrs.
“Yes, Mr. Boss.”
“Sir. Owner. Master. Boss. Any of those work.” He wears a smug grin on his handsome face and my pulse revs with excitement. He takes my hand and pulls it toward the bulge in his pants. “Although right now, I might say you own me as much as I own you, angel.”
And that right there is how I knew for sure—
I’m totally, completely, head-over-heels in love with Gio Tacone.
Chapter 13
Gio
Marissa and I walk along the shoreline in the morning with steaming lattes. The air is chilly but the sun is strong, glinting off the waves in streaks of silver.
Everything I’ve done in my life—all the good things, at least—I want to do over with Marissa at my side.
I want to take her to Vegas and show her the Bellissimo. I want to take her to Sicily and show her the Old Country. I want to bring her to all the nicest restaurants. All the beautiful beaches. All the amazing sights this world has to offer.
For now, I’ll settle for a walk along Lake Michigan.
I lace my fingers through hers, enjoying the ease between us. The warmth in my body from just having her beneath me. From taking her again against the shower wall afterward.
The image of her prancing around my kitchen with those sexy stockings and bra and my handprints on her ass will forever be at the top of my spank bank album.
But Marissa’s getting tense now—nervous. Which means she needs to get home for some reason or other.
I make it easy for her. “What time do I need to get you back, angel?”
“Actually soon. My grandparents are at a wedding and I have to watch Mia, my little cousin.”
“I’ll watch her with you.”
Marissa stiffens and stops walking. “Um, no. You don’t have to do that, Gio.”
“I want to. I haven’t met the child with the thirty-thousand dollar hip yet.”
It’s supposed to be a joke, but it falls flat, because Marissa takes it as a reminder of what she owes me.
She swallows. “Well, sure. I mean, I guess you could come in for a little while.”
“So long as I’m gone by the time your grandparents return?”
She looks relieved at first, until she realizes I’m not happy with her thinking. “Shit, Gio. Please don’t ride me on this.”
I’m fucking toast when she turns those pleading blue eyes up on me. She’s so unbelievably beautiful and enigmatic. One moment she’s sweet and subservient, the next, she busts my balls. Sometimes she seems way too young for me. Other times, she’s the most mature woman I’ve ever dated.
I cup her nape and bring her face up to mine for a kiss. “All right,” I say after brushing her lips with mine. “I won’t ride you.” I want to say more, but I like the way her body softens into mine way too much. I don’t want her tense again. So I kiss the living hell out of her and walk her back to my place to get the SUV.
Marissa fiddles with the radio on the way. I like how comfortable she’s getting with me. There’s more ease between us than ever. I just have to be patient with her. Prove I’m worthy.
I can do that.
When we get to her grandparents’ place, she gets nervous again. I grab her hand on the way up the sidewalk and it’s clammy.
I almost want to tell her she doesn’t have to do this. If bringing me home makes her uncomfortable, it’s not worth it. But this is a baby step. We need this.
“Lori, Mia, I’m home!” she calls out when we step inside.
Her aunt bustles out. “Oh good, I was just won—” She breaks off when she catches sight of me and freezes in the middle of putting an earring in. “Ah… um…”
“You know Gio, right? From the cafe?”
Her aunt’s mouth hangs open. “Um, yeah. Sure. Of course.” She shoots Marissa a questioning look as her daughter comes out, limping a little.
“Heyyy, you must be Mia,” I say, giving her a broad grin.
She sends me a shy smile. “Hi.”
I hold out my hand for a shake. “I’m Gio. I’m a friend of your cousin.”
“Boyfriend?” Mia asks, stepping forward hesitantly to put her smaller hand in mine.
I give it a little shake and drop it. “Yeah. Boyfriend.”
Lori lifts her brows at Marissa with a stunned look.
Marissa shrugs. “Yep.” She doesn’t quite manage nonchalance.
“Can I have a word with you?” Lori demands, jerking her head toward a bedroom.
Marissa follows her in and I hear their whispered fight. “You’re dating a Tacone? Are you freaking nuts? This is who you’ve been spending all that time with? Him?”
“So what? It’s my business.”
“Okay, even if that were true, what were you thinking bringing him here? Are you nuts? I mean, for one thing, Nonno would die of heart failure if he knew. For another—I don’t want him around my kid.”
I saunter to the doorway and lean my shoulder against it. “I don’t eat children,” I say mildly. “Contrary to popular belief.”
Lori gasps and her face goes pale. Cristo. I hate this feeling. It’s not new—I’ve been the bad guy in the neighborhood since I was a kid. I was raised to be proud of being the bad guy. Only it never felt right on me. Like deep down, I knew I wasn’t the bad guy. I was just pretending. Only that’s not how it works, is it? I have pulled the trigger before. On guys who deserved it—only on the wic
ked. I’ve used my fists to make a point or exact justice more times than can be counted. So yeah. I am the bad guy.
It’s just that with Marissa… I feel like something else. Like me. Maybe even something good.
“I would never harm anyone in this family. Lo prometo. You have my oath.” I take a breath, knowing it’s too soon, but also wanting it said. I say what I’ve been planning to say to Marissa’s grandparents. “I’m in love with your niece, Lori. Your family is important to me now. And I won’t let my family’s business ever affect you again.”
Lori lets out a little gust of air and swallows. I can tell she doesn’t believe me but is maybe too scared to argue.
Marissa’s gone pale, too, but I don’t think it’s from fear. There’s wonder mixed in her gaze, along with residual wariness.
“Just give me a chance, huh? Can I ask that much of you? I’ll prove to you I’m going to treat Marissa right. I’ll never hurt her.”
Marissa does that rapid blinking thing she does any time I do something nice for her.
Lori pinches her lips together but picks up her purse with a resigned sigh. She loops it over her shoulder and looks at Marissa, not me. “You are never going to sell this to Nonno. Never.” She walks out of the room, shaking her head.
Marissa turns her blue-green eyes on me, which are bright with unshed tears.
I open my arms. “Come here, angel. I’m sorry this is difficult. I really am.”
“No, I’m sorry,” she sniffs, letting me hold her. But she pulls it together almost immediately and pushes away from me. “Come on, Mia’s out there.”
We find Mia settled on the couch watching television.
I sit beside her. “What are you watching?”
“The Flash,” she tells me. “It’s on Netflix. I’ve already watched every episode, but I started over.”
“Flash, hmm? I haven’t heard of him. I guess he’s super fast?”
“Yep, super fast. He has to wear that suit or else he’ll get hurt by the friction.”
“Cool.”
Marissa moves around, straightening up, taking out the trash, working in the kitchen.
I lift my chin in the direction of the kitchen. “Is she always working?”
“Always, always,” Mia says. “My mom says she’s lucky she’s still young, but she’s going to burn out by the time she’s thirty.”
I rub my chin. Not on my fucking watch.
The episode ends and Mia hits pause before the next episode begins. “Do you want to play a game?”
“Hell, yes— I mean, heck yes I want to play a game, little lady. What games do you have? Do you play cards?”
“Yes!” She gets up and limps down the hall and returns with a deck of cards. “What do you want to play?”
I pin her with a mock serious look. “Do you play poker?”
She giggles. “No.”
“Wanna learn?” I reach in my pocket and pull out my wad of cash. “It involves betting and money. You have a chance to win big, sweetheart.”
Yeah, I’m never above a bribe. Especially when it involves a child. Money, sweets or forbidden activities will always win their affection.
I count out five ten-dollar bills and hold them out to her. Her eyes get wide and she reaches for them, then stops herself mid-air and shoots a guilty glance down the hall.
Shit. Has this child been poisoned against me, too?
“It’s all right. You can take it.” I continue to hold the money out.
She takes it because—of course—she wants to.
I count myself out another fifty in tens and lay them in front of me. “We don’t have poker chips, so we’ll just play for the bills here.”
“Marissa, angel,” I call to the kitchen. “Come and play poker with us.”
She rounds the corner with a plate filled with apple slices and peanut butter and raisins. “I don’t know how to play poker.”
“Mmm.” I reach for an apple slice and dip it in the peanut butter. “Are these for me?” I take the plate and make a show of offering it to Mia and then pulling it back when she reaches for it a couple times before I set it down in front of her. “Mia doesn’t know how either, so I’ll teach you both. I have to get you prepped for when I take you to Vegas.”
Marissa shoots me a surprised look but her cheeks color like she’s excited by that declaration. Good. She wants to go.
I give Marissa a starting pot of fifty bucks, too and explain the rules of the game, laying out examples of winning hands. “This is a full house. This is two of a kind. This is—”
“Wait, wait, wait. I need a notepad to write these down. I don’t think I’ll remember.”
“I don’t need a notepad,” Mia declares.
“You think you have it already?” I ask her with a broad smile.
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s show Marissa how it goes. For the first few hands we’ll play without money and cards face up as practice. Then we’ll let the money fly.” I waggle my brows and Mia smiles happily at her stack of money.
“If I win, do I get to keep the money?”
“Oh yeah. Definitely. That’s what makes it fun.”
“Even though it was your money to start with?”
“It’s your money now. Yours to lose.”
She grabs the money and stuffs it in a pretend pocket. “Forget it, I’m not playing,” she says.
I laugh—a big, belly laugh that surprises me. I don’t know when I’ve laughed like that before, but humor on an eight-year-old took me by surprise.
Marissa laughs, too, her eyes soft on me.
I fucking love that look. I want to win it every. Fucking. Time.
We play five or six rounds with cards up until I’m sure they both are getting the hang of it and then I teach them how to bet.
Marissa is conservative with her money, but Mia goes right at it, throwing the bills in and holding her cards up close to her face.
She wins the first hand and gets so excited she jumps up and down and then gasps in pain and hobbles back to the couch.
“You okay, baby?” Marissa runs around to help her, even though she’s already sitting. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“I always forget about my bad hip,” Mia says to me with a wry smile. “And then I hurt it again.”
“Well, I hope you’re getting as much mileage out of this situation as you can,” I tell her. “You know, making them bring you chocolate cakes and all that.”
She giggles.
“My ma had a hip replacement surgery last year and she was the most demanding patient ever. We ran through a whole bunch of nurses before my brother finally hired one who stood up to her and didn’t let her push her around.”
“Was that Desiree?” Marissa asks.
I shoot her a smile. “It sure was. That’s how Junior met her. And then she was a nurse for me when I had an accident,” I say to Mia.
“Accident, yes,” Marissa says, her gaze dropping to my scar, the flicker of trauma apparent before she hides it.
“Come on, let’s play another hand,” I say. “Let’s see if we can take some money back from the little card shark over here.”
Mia cackles with joy as she settles back and pops an apple slice in her mouth.
I win the next hand, then Mia takes two more. When Marissa runs out of money, I fish some more out of my pocket.
It makes her a bit uneasy, taking money from me. People have all kinds of hang ups about money. Some get turned on by it. Some hate it. Most have a love-hate relationship with it. That’s Marissa. There’s the quickened breath at the sight of a lot of money, but also a furrow of disapproval between her brows. A wariness, like if she takes it, she’s eaten the fruit that will land her in Hades for the next seven months.
The next hand I win. I lay my cards down. “I got my lucky hand, ladies. Dead Man’s Hand. Two pairs—black aces, black eights. You know why it’s called Dead Man’s Hand?”
“Why?” Mia demands.
“It origina
ted in the Wild West. It was the hand Wild Bill Hickok had when he was murdered. An unlucky event for Wild Bill, but for some reason, it’s always been my lucky hand.”
Marissa sucks in a breath. “Well,” she says, her tone slightly shaky. “Maybe that’s why you were luckier than Wild Bill.”
The images of the dream flash through my mind on super-speed. It’s not the actual event I see now. Just the new, twisted one. The one where the gun’s at Marissa’s head.
I lived. I lived. Sometimes it feels like there has to be a reason I lived.
And that it’s somehow tied up with Marissa.
A chill spins through me. I want it to be a happy reason, like to make Marissa my wife. Run a restaurant with her. But instead it seems like something far darker.
A warning.
I lived to prevent something bad from happening to her.
Marissa
As if I weren’t already falling head over heels in love with Gio, he had to go and be adorable with my cousin.
Mia counts her bills, beaming at her new favorite person on Earth. How quickly I was replaced. “I get to keep this, right?” she asks for the eighth time.
Gio winks at her. “You sure do. Buy yourself something nice with it.”
I elbow him and he tosses an arm around me.
“Maybe don’t tell your mom,” I suggest to Mia.
“Why not?” She gives me her full attention now. Kids are so damn smart. She knows something’s afoot.
I try to shrug casually. “She might tell you it’s too much to accept as a gift and make you give it back.” That’s not a lie, although it’s way more about who the gift came from than how big it is.
“It wasn’t a gift, I won it!” Mia retorts.
“Then she’ll say she doesn’t want you gambling. Just go put it in your treasure box or somewhere safe okay? Or I can keep it for you.”