Cara & Gian: The Complete Guzzi Duet

by Bethany-Kris

  “And go,” she added quietly. “It would make it easier for you to come and go, Gian.”

  “I can’t help that, Cara.”

  “I know,” she murmured.

  “Consider it, for him.”

  “And for you.”

  Gian smirked, pressing a kiss to her soft hair. “And for me, yes.”

  “Gian?”

  “What, amore?”

  “Shut up and fuck me now.”

  “Cara, you should sleep while you can. You need to slee—”

  She was the one to shut him up, instead, by leaning up to catch his moving lips with a hard kiss, and in the next breath, she had climbed on top of him under the sheets. In no time at all, she had discarded his boxer-briefs, and the short nightie she had on did little to hide the fact she was naked underneath.

  Cara shivered under his wandering hands, and she let him pull that damn nightie off her body entirely, baring all of her to him. The heavy swells of her breasts fit perfectly into his palms, and she sighed happily when he tweaked her nipples under his forefinger and thumb. Her back arched under his touch, moving her closer to him when he shifted in the bed to sit up. He traced the gentle curve of her stomach with his fingertips, watching pretty goosebumps bloom over her skin.

  Her hands were between their bodies before Gian could even demand it, circling his length and fitting his cock at her cunt. He held Cara’s face in his palms as she lowered down on his length, hard and fast. Heat shot through his cock, and straight up his spine, when she was seated on him fully. There was no waiting for her, no slowing or careful movements.

  She rode him crazy, so wild. Her nails dug into the hard muscles of his arms as he dragged her closer for a kiss, keeping her there while their tongues warred until he was forced to pull away for a burning breath.

  “Oh, my God. Oh, my God,” Cara mumbled again and again.

  A record on repeat.

  All her pretty cries.

  The way she looked riding him.

  How her body shook and shivered.

  It was all such a familiar tune.

  Gian loved it.

  She was so wet, her cunt squeezing the fucking life out of his body through his dick. He angled his lower half into her lowering body, making it so that her greedy little clit was rubbing against him every time she came down on him fast and hard again.

  Gian wanted to give Cara what he knew she liked the most—his fingers tight around her throat, his body pounding into hers until she was a mess of tears and sweat into the bedsheets. But he held back, and only because he thought that might not be okay, given her state. Instead, he settled on letting his hand rest against the thrumming beat of her pulse on her neck, and his teeth leaving marks on her lips and tits. He let her set the pace, and how rough she wanted to fuck him, not the other way around.

  His words spilling out were damn near constant, though, and unstoppable. Whispered harsh and fast in her ear, because he was worried he was going to lose all train of thought before he could get them out in their entirety.

  “You’re so beautiful, mon ange. My good girl, fucking me like you are. Take what you want, Cara, take my cock.”

  Cara’s first orgasm came on like a tsunami of sensation that even Gian could feel, from the way her body tensed and then shook, to the loud, broken cry she released. Her eyes flew wide, the blue of her irises a darkened wave of color, while her pupils had blown wide in her bliss.

  So fucking beautiful.

  And apparently, it wasn’t nearly enough. The second she had calmed, her demands came sure and quick in his ear.

  More, and now, and only you, only you, only you.

  How could he refuse?

  How could he refuse her?

  “Seems we have some work to do,” Stephan said.

  Gian nodded in agreement with the Capo. “Lots of digging and prying into whoever might be feeding the police information.”

  “There’s a lot of men in this organization,” Dom pointed out.

  “I’m aware.”

  “It won’t be too difficult,” Chris added.

  All eyes moved to the quiet enforcer in the corner, who had mostly been playing on his phone and sipping from a glass of water. While the rest of them drank whiskey or a beer, Chris drank water.

  “And why do you think that is?” Gian asked his man.

  Chris looked up at his boss, shrugging. “Once word begins to travel that the boss is looking for a rat, you’ll find that the men who don’t want any fucking part of that shit will be the first to point you in the direction you need to be looking. They all pay attention, they simply choose not to speak up unless they need to. Make it so that they need to, boss. That’s all.”

  Dom’s gaze swung back to Gian. “How do we even know for sure that the rat is in our family?”

  “Gabriel is pretty convinced on that fact,” Gian replied.

  “And he is a voice of reason here?”

  “No, but since we all know how he treats someone he likes, imagine how he treats those he doesn’t like. If he says he doesn’t think there’s a rat in his family, it’s because he’s already made his rounds. It’s our turn to do rounds on our end, now.”

  Gian let the men have their opinions, but he was firm on what he wanted. Soon after, the three men cleared out of his office at the mansion, leaving him alone once again. He had only called the meeting, because he had spent the week keeping a low profile, and trying to spend as much time with Cara as he could. When he knew he had no choice but to head home, he decided to call the meeting.

  “You look stressed, Gian.”

  His attention flew to the new presence in his office. Elena leaned in the doorway, a silk robe cinched tightly at her waist and her arms crossed under her chest. Immediately, he was on edge at Elena’s sudden entrance and it had a whole lot to do with the bare legs and black heels she wore. Why did she need a robe and heels like those on at the same time?

  It was a dichotomy.

  Unless she was looking for something.

  He wasn’t about to provide it.

  “Do you need something?” Gian asked.

  “I saw the guys leave. I thought I should check on you.”

  Right.

  “I’m fine, about to head to bed.” With that, he stood from his desk, closing his laptop down and putting away his papers. All the while, Elena never moved from her spot in the doorway, forcing Gian to come incredibly close to his wife as he passed her by. Her hand coming up to press against his chest over his dress shirt stopped him for a moment. “What, Elena?”

  “I don’t interest you at all, do I?”

  His gaze lingered over the delicate column of her throat, to the peeks of her breasts at the top of the robe, and then down over her trim waist and the expanse of her legs. “You did once, but it was a game you used to hurt me with. Nothing about that interests me at all, Elena.”

  “Why her, then?”

  Gian stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”

  “What about Cara Rossi is so special? She’s pretty, sure. Red hair, tall, slim. But she isn’t … spectacular, is she? Or did I miss something?”

  He realized in that moment how delicate of a line he was walking with his wife. It was not one he wanted to walk at all, but it seemed Elena was not going to give him a choice in the matter.

  “Cara—”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t know about her visit when you were in jail? Or how curious it is that you are bringing her to visit … not to mention, when she’s pregnant? Or that you hole yourself up in her place for days, hiding away from the world?”

  “Elena, that’s enough,” Gian warned. “This isn’t your business, and you have no reason to care, either way.”

  “Someone told me she was pregnant,” Elena continued, not heeding his warning in the slightest. “I had to see, so I did. I approached her in the grocery store. I don’t think she even knew who I was, or if she did, it probably wasn’t until after. A boy, she told me. Marcus for a name, maybe. You’re g
oing to give your bastard—even if he is a firstborn boy—your family’s name? And not even for a middle name, but a first name, his given name. I don’t understand, I guess, what about her that does it for you. Like I said, nothing about her is spectacular or amazing. She’s just a woman.”

  “Because she isn’t you,” Gian said, “she is the complete opposite of you, Elena. And that is everything. Stay away from Cara, understood?”

  His rage simmered through his bloodstream, but he managed to hide it for the moment. How long that would last, he couldn’t say.

  How dare she approach Cara?

  How dare she seek her out?

  Had Cara even realized?

  “I will make your father look like a saint, if you hurt that woman or my child,” Gian murmured in Elena’s ear. “We both know the only reason you’re still a problem for me is because of your father. You have things in this life that she doesn’t, where I’m concerned. You have my last name, my homes, my money, and my grandmother’s rings on your finger. And you don’t deserve a single fucking one of them. You know it, too. So, try not to let your need to play games with the lives of others cloud the smart part of your brain that knows you’re safe and comfortable in your good little life here, Elena. I don’t love you and you will never have my children, because those are things she has. And if you try to take them away from her because you are jealous or bitter, I will scatter you from one end of this city to the other.”

  Gian smiled, but Elena stayed stone-cold.

  “Just so we’re clear,” he added.

  Elena stayed where she was in the doorway. Gian went to bed. Cara, however, got an enforcer to watch her the very next morning.

  “Eight weeks left—let the countdown begin,” Jenny teased.

  Cara huffed as she bent down to pick up the rest of the art supplies on the small kiddie table. “Don’t remind me.”

  “You’re thirty-two weeks pregnant, Cara. How can you not know it every second of your day?”

  “That’s my point. I don’t need more reminders.”

  Jenny laughed. “Uh-huh. Are you nervous, is that it?”

  “Excited, but mostly …” Cara waved at her very large stomach that made it hard to sleep, eat, and almost every other function of life, including breathing some days. “I’m just over all of this.”

  “Don’t worry. It will all be worth it in the end. Once you have the little one in your arms, all of the hells of pregnancy and birth will be forgotten.”

  Oh, Jesus.

  Birth.

  That was another thing Cara was not looking forward to. Not by a long shot. That, she was scared of. Terrified, even. A baby—a small human—was going to come out of her body. Women might have been doing it for millennia, but sweet Jesus, Cara had not.

  “Wow, you just went white,” Jenny noted.

  Cara tried to be nonchalant as she put all the supplies away into their proper places. “I guess birth makes me a little worried.”

  “When a baby gets in, Cara, it has to eventually come out.”

  “Yes, that is the only guarantee about pregnancy. I’m well aware of that.”

  “Women’s bodies are made for this, too.”

  “Again, I know.”

  “Then perhaps you should stop squeezing that glue bottle before you bust the top of it off,” Jenny pointed out.

  Cara instantly dropped the bottle of glue into the container. “Okay, so maybe the idea of birth freaks me out a bit.”

  “A lot, you mean.”

  “Make it easy on me, Jenny.”

  The older woman laughed, saying, “You know I won’t do that. My whole job is to make people talk about their deepest, darkest issues. Since no one else is around right now, I might as well work on you.”

  “I’m not in need of a therapist, but thank you.” Cara shot the woman a smile. “Really, though, I know it’ll be fine. I’m just freaked out because I’m twenty-seven, very pregnant, and it’s almost at the end.”

  “Which means?”

  “My whole life is about to change?”

  Jenny nodded. “But you know that, too. You know little man is going to change things for you, from your daily life, to school, to work, and that’s just the surface. Emotionally, physically, and mentally, change will come there, too. The fact that you know these things means the transition will come easier for you, from a woman, to a mom. Too many live in the clouds when they’re pregnant, and then baby comes, and boom, back down to reality. It’s a hard pill to swallow.”

  “You make motherhood sound … like war.”

  “For some, it can be,” Jenny murmured.

  “I’m lucky that I have people to help,” Cara said, shrugging. “Like the ladies here, or my aunt and uncle. The father and some of his family, too.”

  Cara said that last sentence quieter, and offered little to no information about Gian, his family, or who she meant.

  “You say that like you’re leaving someone out,” Jenny noted.

  Cara frowned, and turned to face the woman. “It would be nice to have my sister, too. You know?”

  “To wish for things you cannot have, is human.”

  “Maybe so, but I don’t like to dwell.”

  “And I think it’s more than acceptable for you to wish your twin sister was here for this, even if it hurts a lot to think about. You shared your whole lives with one another. Boys, graduation, smiles and tears, laughter … life.”

  Cara cleared the emotion lodging in her throat. “Yeah and this is one of the very few things we won’t get to share, so that’s a little hard. But it doesn’t matter, right? What’s done is done, so let’s get up, brush ourselves off, and move on.”

  “It does matter, Cara. My advice is that you don’t hold those feelings in, or push them aside in pursuit of happier days, especially not now,” Jenny said, coming close enough that she could soothingly rub a hand over Cara’s back. “Because even if you think not dealing with those thoughts and feelings is better, you’re actually doing yourself, and the baby, a great disservice.”

  “How so?”

  “Babies have a way of reminding us of everything we are without once they come into the world, although unintentionally. The wash of hormones, all the changes, and everything else comes together like the Big Bang to make one hell of a combination on new mothers. Deal with how you feel now, so that when he is here, those things don’t surprise you.”

  Cara nodded. “Okay.”

  “And I am always here to talk,” Jenny added.

  “Sometimes, I think you just like making people cry.”

  “Hey.” Jenny covered a spot on her chest with her hand. “My heart. Did we not just have a deep conversation, of which you will take something away to use to help yourself?”

  “So?”

  “Remember what I said, Cara. Seriously.”

  “I will,” Cara promised, “and thanks for making me talk. Too many people are fine and happy with me brushing them off when I say I’m fine, or something similar. You don’t.”

  “Not my job to,” Jenny said, ticking a finger over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “Oh, well, hello there. Can we help you?”

  Cara turned to look at who Jenny had greeted, only to see a waiting Gian standing in the doorway. “Gian.”

  He pointed at Cara, a sexy smile growing on his handsome features. “I’m actually looking for her, as she has an appointment today, and I would like to join her.”

  “You don’t have to do to that, Gian. They just want to make sure he’s turned properly now.”

  “My son, so yes, I do.”

  Well, now someone else could put a face to her baby’s father when Cara refused to.

  Jenny shot a wink back at Cara. “Well, there she is. Why do you look so familiar to me?”

  “My family is well-known in Toronto. We’re often on the news, or something similar.”

  It took the older woman a moment to put together who she was looking at. A horrible sensation of dread dropped heavily in Cara�
�s stomach as she waited for it to click.

  “Does the name Guzzi help at all?” Gian asked Jenny.

  “Oh … my.” Jenny lost her happy disposition, but quickly plastered on a false smile. “Are you sure you’re in the right place, then, Mr. Guzzi?”

  “Jenny,” Cara warned.

  Gian rattled off something that sounded like a business name, but Cara couldn’t be sure. Jenny tensed, and then stared at Gian. “Really?”

  “Yes. I thought I might take a look around while I was here, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Does she know?” Jenny asked.

  Gian’s gaze darted to Cara, and then quickly back to the woman standing in front of him. “There was no reason for her to. It was a common thing long before her appearance and work here.”

  “And the use of the business name?”

  “No affiliation to a family name that may make some uncomfortable to be attached to, except in details that no one has time or need to dig into,” Gian replied with a smirk. “It does the same job as anonymous donations, of course, but simpler come tax time.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for that.” Jenny looked back at Cara once again. “Thanks for helping to clean this place up. I will see you on Monday, right?”

  “Monday,” Cara agreed.

  Once Jenny was gone, Cara looked to Gian.

  “What was all that about?”

  “Pardon?” he asked.

  “That vague, weird conversation.”

  Gian shrugged his shoulders, his lips curving teasingly at the edges. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, mon ange.”

  “Gian.”

  He glanced away, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So, the woman who started this whole place—”

  “Carolina Demaske.”

  “She was a good friend to my grandmother, on my mother’s side, especially throughout her life, long after she no longer needed the safe haven that Carolina provided. There was a time when my grandmother had no one else but for Carolina, and it was a message she passed down on us all.”

  Cara took in those words and what they meant. “You donate money to the shelter?”

  “Monthly,” Gian admitted, “and it is just one of many that I donate to, personally. I know my mother and father, and even my sister and brother, donate to other places or things they want to support. Carolina’s House has always been one I focused on, personally.”