Looking around the room, I try to find Valerius, but I don’t see him anywhere. I hear his voice and realize that he’s somewhere upstairs. My initial reaction is to flee. I am definitely not a fight person, I am totally a flight and that’s exactly what I want to do, but I don’t want to make it obvious.
So, I decide to make an escape route. Standing, I slowly walk into the kitchen, trying to be as calm as possible—trying to act cool. Opening the refrigerator door, I pull out a sparkling water, then instead of going back into the living room, I head out to the balcony.
Letting out a breath, I sink down on the chair outside and look out at the city in front of me. I chew on my bottom lip, wondering when these guys are going to leave, and knowing that I’m going to be supremely uncomfortable until they do.
SALVATORE
VALERIUS: SECURITY INSTALLATION IS FINISHED.
The text comes in and for whatever reason, I feel a sense of relief. The cameras are in place and I couldn’t be happier. I did something that I probably shouldn’t have. I put cameras not only on all of the entry points, but I also put them in all of the rooms so that I could see Rosana at any given time during the day.
VALERIUS: E-MAIL COMING IN SHORTLY WITH MONITORING APP AND DOWNLOAD INFORMATION.
THANKS. MAKE SURE ROSANA EATS TONIGHT.
VALERIUS: WILL DO, BOSS.
I am not his boss, not even close. That is Gavino and only Gavino, but I can’t deny that the sound of boss makes my chest puff up just a little. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I gather my paperwork and head out of the office.
It doesn’t take me long to drive to the Ricci famiglia-owned BDSM club where I know Ermanno will be standing guard outside of Nicola’s office, a place where he has permanent residence whenever Nicola is on duty.
Ermanno might be the Underboss, but he is also very protective over Nicola and will stand guard next to her when she’s at the club. Tonight must be a big night there, considering she typically doesn’t work nights any longer, not since she’s had children.
Parking my car, I think about taking my phone out and texting Rosana to see if she’s been eating and what she’s going to eat. Over the last few days, I’ve been very concerned with her eating habits. Maybe it’s just because she’s pregnant or maybe it’s because I truly give a shit about her and I’m worried about her in general. Whatever it is, it’s goddamn distracting.
Lifting my fist to the door, I knock and wait for my entrance into the club. The door opens and I’m met with a muscled guard.
“Salvatore Macchio for Ermanno,” I say.
The guard is familiar, though I don’t know the names of all the men in the famiglia, especially the guards. He jerks his chin and steps to the side.
“Wait here, I’ll call him down from the office.”
Nodding my head, I tug my phone out of my pocket to see if Rosana has texted me. I don’t have any new notifications and I can’t deny that I’m a bit disappointed.
I’ve enjoyed sending and receiving texts from her over the past few days. It helps me to not worry as much about her when I hear from her regularly. I’ll probably continue to worry about her safety and well-being as long as Miguel is free, and probably even after that, if I’m being truly honest.
There probably won’t be a time where I won’t worry about her safety.
Even though I’m not necessarily well known in the famiglia. I am still Made and she will automatically be a target until the day she dies. There will always be someone looking to hurt her to get to me—to get to Vino.
Ermanno appears a few moments later, a scowl on his face. “Come on up to the office,” he growls.
Dipping my chin, I give the man guarding the door a small wave and follow behind Ermanno. I try to keep my gaze straight forward, but I fail. I never wanted to come here. I know exactly what this place is and what they do here.
While watching a bunch of people barely dressed engaging in different sexual appetites, I also know that this is where my sister met the man who knocked her up, then killed her. Abriana wasn’t innocent, she was his mistress and I understand that, but she did not deserve to be murdered.
It doesn’t matter how innocent or not innocent she was, this is where she met the man who killed her and I will never be able to shake that as I walk through the darkened hallways. This was the last place that I wanted to meet with Ermanno, but we don’t always get to choose in life.
“Sorry you had to come here,” Ermanno says as soon as we walk into an empty office.
I expect him to sit behind the desk, but he doesn’t. Instead, he sinks down into one of the two chairs in the room.
“It’s okay, I should have come here sooner, just to get that shit over with,” I murmur.
“Face the beast,” he grumbles.
“Something like that. I have the paperwork ready for your review.”
Taking the file out of my jacket, I hand it over to him. His hand is trembling as he reaches across and takes the folder from me. He doesn’t open it right away, his fingers grip it tightly and I think about asking him if this is truly what he wants, but I don’t. Ermanno is a man, he’s an adult and I am not his counselor.
“Do you want me to wait while you review it?” I ask.
He nods his head once, then the door opens and I’m surprised to see Nicola Ricci Martinelli breeze through the doorway and toward the desk. She gives me a smile as she sinks down across from me.
“Salvatore, can I have someone bring you anything to drink?” she asks.
I should say no, but I don’t. I ask for a bourbon and then another. We chat with one another while Ermanno reads the documents and unfortunately, I continue to drink. And drink some more. Then a little more.
When Ermanno asks if I want to look around the club, instead of going home, I take him up on his offer. Nicola announces that she is going home, and I should do the same, but I’m drunk and stupid.
Chapter Twelve
ROSANA
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
I don’t know why Salvatore even has an old-school ticking clock in his bedroom, but he does and right now it sounds like it’s the loudest thing on earth. I stare at the second hand as it moves around, and around, and around.
The minutes tick, the hours tock, and the seconds continue to torture me as I lie in bed, alone. When the clock stares back at me after reaching three in the morning, I allow the first tear to fall.
I don’t know where Salvatore is, but he said he would be home as soon as he could and he’s not. I don’t know who he is with, or what kind of responsibilities he has, but there is just no way he needs to be somewhere at three in the morning.
Wiping the tear away, I decide that I’m being silly. Sure, we’re married, but we aren’t intimate. It’s not like he has any romantic ties to me at all. We’ve kissed, but never gone any further. Just because I want more, doesn’t mean that he does. He married me as a favor to me, because he’s a nice guy.
There is nothing that I can really be angry about. Even if I want him, that doesn’t mean that he feels the same and if he does, that doesn’t mean that he has to somehow be faithful to me. At the end of the day, I’m pregnant with someone else’s baby.
I hear a door slam downstairs and I hold my breath as I listen for what comes next. There is a low hum of whispered deep voices, then I hear the door close. Valerius must have been relieved of his duties, which means Salvatore is home.
At least I hope that’s what has happened. I hold my breath, biting the inside of my cheek as I wait for what is going to happen next. The footsteps are loud as he makes his way up the stairs. I don’t know why, but I know without a doubt that it’s him.
My intuition is right when the door opens and he steps through. Luckily, I’ve been lying here awake for so long that my eyes are adjusted so I can tell it’s him immediately. He tries to be quiet as he moves around the room but fails epically.
“Fuck,” he hisses as he almost falls over trying to take his pants off.
I could pretend to be asleep, but what’s the point in that? So, I sit up and clear my throat. He stops, pants half off, leaning against the wall as he lifts his head to look over at me. Reaching out, I flick on the bedside lamp and that’s when I realize that he’s stinking drunk.
“Salvatore?” I ask.
He licks his lips, tugging his pants off the rest of the way, then stands up tall as he begins to attempt to unbutton his shirt, his gaze focused on mine. His fingers slip and miss, he doesn’t even get one button undone before he just rips his shirt off, the buttons flying everywhere.
I gasp, which causes his lips to curve up in a cocky smirk. It’s sexy. Far sexier than it should be, especially right now. But it is, so I smile back at him, unable to stop myself.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’m that typical girl who gets wet when someone treats her like shit, what the actual fuck?
“You’re awake,” he slurs.
“I am,” I admit. “I told you I would wait up for you,” I explain. He flinches from my words, then shakes his head as he starts to make his way toward me. “Go and take a shower, Salvatore,” I demand.
He stops, his body jerking from my words. “Take a shower?”
He seriously looks confused, and I swallow the lump in my throat before I bring my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them.
“I know we aren’t together together,” I begin.
But it’s the wrong thing to say, because his nostrils flare immediately and his eyes darken to pitch black right before my own. I don’t stop though, stupidly, I’m on a roll so I continue.
“I know we aren’t really together, but I can’t stomach the thought of you coming to bed smelling like another woman. Please, Salvatore, please don’t do that to me,” I whisper.
His entire body jerks as if I’ve physically assaulted him. He doesn’t say anything though. He watches me for a long moment, then wordlessly he turns around and walks out of the bedroom, but not before he slams the door behind him so violently that fucking clock falls to the floor with a loud thud.
I stare at the closed door, wondering what in the world just happened. Pulling back the bedding, I slide off the side of the bed and without thinking, I run behind him. He’s already down the stairs and sitting on the edge of the sofa cushion by the time I make it to him.
Standing across the room from him, the large square coffee table separating us, I cross my arms beneath my chest and watch him for a moment. He lifts his gaze to meet mine and I can’t quite read him, but the way he’s looking at me, there is something working hard behind his eyes.
“I’ll be staying on the sofa tonight. Tomorrow I’ll have a designer come in so that the media room can be turned into my bedroom. That way you can have the master and the guest room upstairs for you and the baby.”
My lips part and I open my mouth to say something, but snap it closed. “That is not what I was saying,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “You would like to have your life and I will have mine,” he mutters.
My arms fall to my sides and I realize that I’ve hurt his feelings. But I don’t know how I could have done that, I’m not the one who came home trashed at three in the morning.
Walking around the coffee table until I’m right in front of him, I sink down on the edge of the table so that I can look directly into his eyes.
“What are you saying?” I ask, trying to keep my tone soft and my voice even. Inside I’m trembling with the fear that I’ve screwed this up before it began.
“I’m saying you have your life and I’ll have mine. We’ll be married in name only.”
“I don’t think that’s what I want,” I admit.
He arches a brow, leaning back slightly. “Yeah? But you assume I’m out fucking someone because I come home late?” he demands.
“Salvatore, that’s not fair,” I breathe.
He pushes up to stand, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs and it’s really hard for me not to look down at his chest and touch him. I want to feel his muscles beneath my fingertips. I’ve only touched him a few times and those muscles feel like they’ve been carved from warm granite. It’s sexy as hell.
“It’s not?” he snaps.
My eyes flick up from his torso to meet his gaze. “No, it’s not. To assume that I want nothing to do with you isn’t fair. We don’t know one another, we shouldn’t be assuming things like that.”
“Bingo, bambola.”
I realize that I’ve done just exactly to him what I don’t want him to do to me. Licking my lips, I stand, then take a step toward him.
Reaching out, I place my palm in the center of his chest, shivering at the delicious feel of his skin beneath my touch.
“Are you saying you weren’t with someone else? It’s three in the morning,” I whisper.
His eyes narrow and his nostrils flare as he watches me. “I’m saying I wasn’t with anyone else,” he growls right before he lifts his hands.
One of his hands dives into the back of my hair, gripping me tightly and tugging on the strands. The other he wraps around my waist, his fingers digging into my skin from above my shirt and he kisses me.
Salvatore’s lips land hard on mine and if my lips aren’t bruised, I’ll be surprised. Whimpering against his lips, I can’t move, I don’t even try. He has me held perfectly in place and I can’t deny that I absolutely love it.
I want more. So much more.
SALVATORE
I’m drunk off my ass, but not too drunk that my cock doesn’t get rock fucking hard as soon as I grab Rosana. She tastes sweeter than anything I’ve ever had my lips on. She’s hesitant and soft, she trembles with desire, her body swaying as soon as my tongue touches the seam of her mouth.
Ripping my lips from hers, I rest my forehead against hers and close my eyes as I attempt to catch my breath. I don’t release her, my fingers gripping her tightly, wishing that I could touch her everywhere.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
“Salvi,” she sighs and I smile, hearing her say my name that way, I know that she’s no longer angry with me.
“There has been no other since I slipped my ring on your finger, Rosana.”
Her breath hitches, then I feel her fingers wrap around the side of my neck. Lifting my head from hers, I look down into her eyes. She’s watching me, looking at me, but doesn’t say a word. We stay that way for longer than we should, my balls aching for relief.
“I want you, Salvatore. I know that you probably hesitate because we’re strangers and I’m pregnant with someone else’s baby, but that doesn’t make my desire go away. I still want you, no matter how I try to talk myself out of it, I can’t make the feelings go away.”
The fact that she’s trying to make her desires go away means that I have done something very fucking wrong. I’ve tried to take things slow, knowing that she’s going through a lot, but apparently, I’ve gone too goddamn slow.
Not anymore.
“I’m going to take you now, Rosana. I hope you don’t regret this and hate me for it later,” I announce before I slam my lips against hers. I fill her with my tongue so that she can’t respond to my words.
Releasing her hair, I move both of my hands to her ass and gently pick her up. Turning around, I lay her down on the couch. She widens her legs so that I can fit my hips between them. I groan at the warmth between her thighs, just two very thin fabric pieces between our naked bodies.
“Bambola,” I rasp as my lips kiss down her neck.
Moving farther down, I stop at the swell of her breast, her sleep tank top covering the rest of her. She arches her back, shifting her hips up, rubbing herself against my cock. Fuck me, but I’m not going to last long enough to get her there too at this rate.
Wrapping my fingers around the hem of her shirt, I bring it up and she raises her arms for me to take it off. I don’t. Instead of stripping the shirt completely from her body, I wrap it around the wrists of her extended arms.
“Salvatore?” she gasps.
Her panting becomes heavier as she moves beneath me, wiggling and shifting around. Shifting from one breast to the other, I repeat the action, plucking her nipple, then biting down on the other.
She lets out a heavy moan, which only makes me want to be inside of her that much more. “Please,” she breathes. “Please, Salvi.”
Fuck me, but when she says my name that way, I find it hard to stay in control. The bourbon I had earlier isn’t helping either. Kissing down her stomach, I stop just at the waistband of her sleep shorts. Sliding my tongue along the edge, I look up at her through my lashes.
She’s panting, her gaze tipped down to me, her focus on me and nowhere else. Her arms above her head and she looks gorgeous, her cheeks flushed as she waits with bated breath on what is to come.
Tugging her shorts down, I toss them somewhere on the floor, then before she can even think to close her legs, I bury my face between them. She cries out as soon as my tongue glides along her entire center.
I taste all of her, there is not one inch of her pussy that I do not devour. And every fucking part of her tastes absolutely amazing.
I can’t stop, not when I hear her mewling sounds from above me. I suck her clit between my lips, flicking it with my tongue over and over until I feel her thighs shake next to my ears.
“Yes,” she cries out.
I don’t stop. I want nothing more right now than to taste her cum on my tongue. Her hips lift and then she meets my tongue’s stroke. Over and over. Not stopping until she gasps and I watch as she lifts her head, her eyes widening and her mouth open, but no sound escapes.
Becoming her Salvation (Zanetti Famiglia Book 7) Page 9