* * *
It all happens so quickly I barely even have time to process it.
The truth is, I'm hardly phased by it anymore. The mayhem, violence, and blood. It all flows right through me like a river. Living the life that I have, you sort of develop an immunity to it all.
And while I didn't expect a fairy tale tonight, because that's not who either of us are. I did expect to eat my food in peace...on our one-month wedding anniversary. Something my dear husband seemed to forget tonight on account that he hasn't once mentioned it, and I was the one who told him earlier today that I wanted to come here for dinner.
People are shouting and screaming all around us. My husband—ever the efficient one—is already on the phone calling a cleanup crew. Guess you can say he puts the organized into organized crime as well as the dead into deadly.
He's also responsible for the anger slamming through me currently.
When I stand up, the blood seeping from the poor schmuck the next table over pools onto my shoes and something inside me snaps.
Ricardo's goons are already walking around the restaurant, warning everyone that if they call the police or go to any reporters, they'll end up in the same position as the dearly departed. Lovely.
When Ricardo touches my elbow, intending to steer me toward the back exit...I lose it. "You know, for once I'd like to be able to go somewhere nice without you committing homicide."
All the talk around us stops and I can feel everyone's eyes on me, something I absolutely hate. But considering the decibel of my voice was nearly off the charts less than a second ago, I can't really say I blame them.
Ricardo's jaw tics and I want to kick myself when my knees go weak. One of the most mind boggling and infuriatingly unfair facts about my husband is—his smoldering good looks can kill a girl long before his gun ever will.
Not that Ricardo would ever hurt a female. Unless she was dumb enough to go after me. Then all bets are off.
Just like they are now.
Normally, I play the part of the good mob wife out in public. The strong and silent Queen to his mafia throne.
But not tonight. Tonight, I'm so angry I can't even see straight.
And right now? He isn't Ricardo DeLuca-lethal and notorious mob boss.
He's the man who forgot our anniversary.
The man I missed so much over the last few days I cried myself to sleep while inhaling his addicting scent on our thousand-dollar sheets.
But how can I tell him all that when this is the life I agreed to?
The life I wanted.
Lifting my chin, I glare at him while removing his hand from my elbow.
Then, turning on my now blood-soaked heels, I march toward the bathroom.
I lock the door behind me when I enter and head straight for the sink. I've never considered myself a shoe girl before, but I happened to like this pair. They complimented the red dress Ricardo loves and they didn't hurt my feet.
Unfortunately, I have no idea how to get blood out of this material. And much like our night...they too, are ruined.
"Lou-Lou."
The deep timbre of his voice reverberates on the other side of the door and I fight back a shiver. My body wants him, my heart and soul call to him like a moth to a flame. This man is my everything and I know damn well I’m his.
However, I stuff down the impulse to open the door and jump into his arms.
I know we'll work our shit out before the end of the night...because we always find our way back to one another. But right now, my anger holds me hostage, and I want to hold onto it a little while longer.
Kind of like I’ve been holding my resentment about him being gone all the time.
Ignoring him, I continue about my business.
That is until I hear the sound of a gun firing and all but jump out of my damn skin.
Of course, he would shoot the door open. Lazy bastard.
Once upon a time, he used to kick them down for me.
Ricardo strides inside like he owns the place before coming to a stop directly behind me. His tall, muscular frame takes up every inch of the glass as his dark eyes clash with mine in the mirror. I want to fold like a deck of cards because even when he's angry...he's so beautiful it's a crime.
He's the first to speak. "I'll get you new shoes."
With a snort, I toss them in the sink. "Fuck the shoes, Ricky."
When I spin around, he looms forward, closing in on me like an eclipse. "I'm not sorry for killing him. He was looking at you—"
"I know you're not," I say, cutting him off. It's moot to point out that we were in a public place giving the man a show, because he can't see reason when it comes to me. I'm his weakness, his Achilles' heel. There's nothing in the world this man wouldn't do for me.
Except remember our fucking anniversary. Except be in our bed every single night like I so desperately want and need him to be.
He takes another step toward me and my heart beats so hard against my chest I swear the damn thing is trying to break free.
He leans in, his scruff brushing over my cheek, making my nipples hard. "I know you're upset, baby."
"I'm livid." I cross my arms over my chest and his gaze drops to my cleavage.
"That so?" A sly grin spreads across his face and warmth pools between my legs when he grabs his crotch. "Why don't you take it out and show me how angry I make you.”
Christ, my husband can be such a crude, filthy man.
And he knows it how much it turns me on.
He raises an eyebrow at me in a challenge, daring me to make my move.
Never one to back down, I reach for the button on his pants. I haven't even stroked him and he's already so hard and thick for me.
My mouth waters when I tug the zipper down and he falls into my hand...long, powerful. His cock is just as magnificent as the rest of him is—the veins and ridges have me longing to sweep my tongue along them.
Wrapping my hand around him, I glide up his shaft in one drawn-out stroke, squeezing gently at the tip where a bead of liquid forms. Purposely teasing him.
My husband watches me under hooded eyes and thrusts into my hand. His expression is needy, hungry. "Give me your mouth."
I start to drop to my knees, but he pulls me back up. And then his lips are on mine and I melt faster than butter in the midday sun. I let him take everything he wants from me, let him ruin me over and over with each brush of his urgent tongue.
Ricardo always kisses me like it’s the first and last kiss we’ll ever have.
And I always fall head over bloody heels in love with him all over again.
His thumb slides along the side of my breast and I mewl when the pad of his finger touches my puckered nipple. "Not so angry with me anymore, are you?" he mummers against my mouth.
I sink my teeth into his bottom lip, intentionally provoking him. When he tastes the hint of copper, he pulls back, his jaw flexing, those dark orbs turning dark and fierce.
I know this look well. I've just triggered a dangerous side of him.
My stomach twists with need. God, I crave his fire, and when you sleep with a man that people refer to as the devil—there's bound to be flames.
I lift my chin and match his glare...and that's all it takes.
In one fell swoop, I'm hauled onto the ledge of the sink and my dress is raised, the cool air hitting me right between the legs. When I shiver, he fists the top of my dress and yanks it down, exposing my tits. “Much better.”
Slowly, his mouth closes over one of my nipples and he circles it with his tongue. I push his suit jacket off his shoulders and my head lolls back against the mirror when he starts sucking on my nipple.
Fuck, I want this man so much I lose all rhyme or reason.
I arch my hips and his hands; large, rough hands, roam down the length of my body, stopping at the hem of my now pushed up dress. "Spread your legs and show me what's mine."
It's an order I wouldn't dream of arguing with. I eagerly comply.
"So fucking pretty," he rasps as the tip of his finger enters me, making me lose my mind.
Kneeling down, he licks a hot line from my navel to my pubic bone, his finger collecting my wetness as he inches further.
The fact that I can bring a man as ruthless as he is to his knees sends a bolt of satisfaction and another wave of arousal throughout me.
His stubble scraps the tender flesh of my thighs as his face moves closer to where I need him. My legs start shaking, I'm so needy and swollen for him my pussy aches.
He pauses right before his lips touch my clit. "Why were you late?"
I blink at him in confusion, then swallow a scream of frustration. I should have known this was going to happen. He's going to torture me until I finally crack…and I'm going to crave every single second of it.
When I don't answer, he pushes his finger in deeper, purposely toying with me. "Tell me and I'll give you what you want."
Smirking, I spread my legs wider. "Give me what I want...and maybe I'll tell you."
His eyes go hazy and I blush when he curls his finger deep inside me and the obvious sounds of my arousal fill the bathroom.
He’s the one who’s smirking now.
"Lou-Lou." He rasps my name in half warning, half urgency.
I shake my head, goading him on.
With a grunt, he presses his palm to my clit sending my body into a delicious tailspin. I feel my self-control snap when he adds another finger.
I need him inside me more than my heart needs its next beat. "Ricardo—" My words are cut off when he buries his face between my legs and starts eating me like I'm his last meal.
His fingers dig into my hips as he continues tounging every inch of my pussy, the low groans coming from him causing shivers to dance on my skin.
A cry of pleasure rips from my throat and I pull on his hair, desperate for him to give me my release. I'm so close and I know he can taste my impending climax with every drop he laps up.
His movements grow feral and demanding and I buck my hips. God, I’m so close. "Please, Ricky."
"Tell me," he snarls, before his teeth graze my pulsing clit. Both the action and the heat in his eyes sends bolts of intense pleasure up my spine.
When his mouth clamps down and he begins sucking, I shout, "At a bookstore."
I come so hard my ass slams against the faucet, causing the water to turn on.
Planting a wet kiss on my pussy, he stands up, his chin visibly damp with the remnants of my orgasm.
"A bookstore?" he questions, his hard cock nudging my entrance.
"Yes, a bookstore, asshole," I say, my anger rising again. "I saw you reading 'The Green Mile' a few weeks ago, but your copy is old and tattered. I know how much it means to you and I wanted to get you another one." I narrow my eyes. "You know, given it's our anni-fucking-versary and all." I press a finger to my lips. "Oh, wait, that’s right. You didn’t remember."
His eyes crease at the corners and I hate that he has the audacity to look amused when I'm so angry at him. I start to push him away but he moves even closer. "You think I’d forget the happiest day of my life?"
“Uh, yeah?” I look down. "What else am I supposed to think, Ricky? It was my idea to have dinner tonight, and it's not like you ever brought it up or anything."
With a smile, he glances at his watch. "That's because you said the words 'I do' at exactly 8:27 pm." He holds his wrist out to me and I see that it's currently 7:50 pm.
"You remember what time it was when I said my vows?"
He cups my cheek. "I remember every second of our wedding." His fingertips tease my neck. "Everything—from the way you wore your hair, the color on your cute little toenails, the dandelions you held in your hand, and most importantly—the way you looked at me when you walked down that aisle."
He presses his forehead against mine. "I would never forget our anniversary, baby." He slips the tip of his cock inside me. "And I'd love to say some more romantic shit right now, but if I'm not fully inside you in the next five seconds, I'm gonna tear this goddamn place apart and lose my fucking shit."
With that, he pushes his hips forward and thrusts inside me. Sliding my arms around his neck, I inhale the air from his lips, my vision becoming blurry as he fills me in a way that no one else ever can.
He pulls back and stills himself, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "I love you."
And that's the only warning I get before he flips me over and bends me over the sink, slamming into me so hard and deep I see stars.
His teeth sink into my shoulder and his hands latch on to my hips as he picks up his pace, fucking me into oblivion. "So good," he grunts as I watch him work me over in the mirror. "Always so fucking good."
A moan escapes me when he flicks my clit and then spreads me with his thumbs as I start to fall apart around him.
"I love the way you grip my dick," he says, causing me to clench harder around his cock, the force of my orgasm ripping through me like a hurricane. "Yeah, that's it. Drip down my goddamn balls."
“Ricky,” I rasp. It feels so good, but I’ve missed him and this so much it almost hurts. It’s scary how much I need him.
“I know, baby. I know.” His head drops to the crook of my neck and he groans my name as he pumps into me one last time.
I'm barely catching my breath when he spins me back around to face him. "We're scheduled for takeoff in 20 minutes." His lips ghost over mine. "8:27 pm to be exact."
I shake my head, certain I misunderstood him. "What?"
He caresses my cheekbone with his thumb. "I told you that you would always be the most important thing in the world to me and I meant it." His brows draw together. "I've been gone a lot lately. I know it’s the real reason you're so upset." He cradles my face in his hands. "However, I won’t lie to you. This vacation we’re taking? Is for solely selfish reasons."
My nostrils flare. Fucking business as usual. “Ri—”
His eyes penetrate me. "Because I miss you."
I suck in a breath and fold my arms around him, breathing him in. I love this man so much my heart feels like it could burst. "I don’t want to become the annoying wife," I whisper. "I know what I signed up for when I married you. I accept every single part of you, and I don't want—"
He tips my chin up. "You could never be the annoying anything. When you want something, I'll make it happen. It's as simple as that." He smirks. "Just like when I want something...I make it mine. And I want you, Lou-Lou. Forever and always."
I worry my bottle lip between my teeth. "What if I said I wanted you home more?"
He kisses me slow and sweet causing my heart to thump against his hard chest. "Done."
I smile coyly against his lips and wrap my legs around his waist. "And what if I said I wanted you to take me one more time before we left?"
His eyes darken and before I can take my next breath, he's deep inside me again. Exactly where I need him to be.
The Wedding-Night Stand
Ava Harrison
Fate.
Destiny.
True love.
Words I never believed in. Until suddenly, from atop of a stairwell, I understood. From that moment, every story I had ever read in fairytales, every happily-ever-after romance, and every whimsical tale of love at first sight didn’t sound so silly after all.
Because with one look—one flash of a smile—it all came together.
This is that story. The tale of one girl and one boy, and how they fell in love.
* * *
The sun cascaded through the trees, casting a glow of brilliant white light that bathed me in its warmth. Summer was finally upon us. The air was thick with humidity, and as I reclined to bask in the heat, I felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. Work had started to wear on me with deadlines and the usual hustle and bustle of the city, leading me to my mother’s house for the weekend. I had never been there before. I loved my mom dearly, but commitment to one residence was not her strong suit—we’d moved so much in the past that we b
asically lived out of suitcases and boxes. My eyes closed of their own accord, welcoming the warmth. Every bit of tension left my body. I don’t know if it was the summer heat, but a smile spread across my face.
I heard the familiar cough of my mom approaching. “Hey, Emma,” she said from behind me.
“Oh, hey, Mom.”
My eyes popped open and I turned on the lounge chair to speak to her. She seemed ethereal as she approached, the sunlight that streamed through her strawberry blond hair giving her a glow. She looked happy here. She was at peace in her life, but as her hand sparkled in the mid-morning light, I knew her outlook had more to do with the piece of jewelry it bore—in the form of a brand new wedding band. After years of being single following her divorce, my mom met a man on a cruise around the world and enjoyed a whirlwind romance. By the time the boat docked at its finally destination, she was married. My eyes rolled at that notion. Love at first sight, my ass! After three years of being single in New York City, dating numerous men and having one too many bad blind dates in which I had to phone a friend to fake an “illness” so I could leave, I was starting to doubt the chance of love in general, let alone falling madly and deeply in love with someone at first glance. Most recently, I had met someone I thought was different. We hit it off right off the bat. There were no awkward silences on our dates, and by the time I asked him to be my date for a wedding, we had shared a few steamy make-out sessions that showed plenty of potential. Finally, I started to believe I might have found my chance at the big HEA, but lo and behold, two days ago he dumped my ass, leaving me in the lurch with no plus one for my friend’s nuptials this evening. I felt as if a weight was crushing my chest, and the mere thought of even looking at happy couples left me bitter and jealous.
“What time do you have to leave for the wedding?” Her right brow rose in question.
A groan escaped my mouth before I could stop it, causing small lines to crease my mother’s face. “Do I have to go?” I whined.
“She’s one of your closet friends. Of course you have to go.” She gave me a tight smile. She knew I had been dumped. That was the reason for my visit; I needed a night out of the city for fresh air to get over my depression. Nothing was better than going home to your mom and eating home cooked comfort food when you were sad.