Cara & Gian: The Complete Guzzi Duet

by Bethany-Kris

  Cara smiled in that sweet way of hers, but a wariness still remained in her gaze. “So, about the charges …”

  “Everything is fine,” he assured. “Things have been taken care of.”

  “How?”

  “Carefully.”

  That was the best he could offer, given the circumstances.

  “Enough about me. How are you feeling? Would you be more comfortable at your place?”

  Cara shook her head. “I don’t want to leave.”

  “We don’t have to. Not today, anyway.”

  “At all,” Cara said, looking up at him to make her point clear. “Maybe I took some time to think about things while I didn’t have you all up in my head voicing an opinion, too. I like the nursery you set up across from the master bedroom.”

  “I told you I wanted one here, just in case.”

  “It’s … fully stocked and ready. Everything is set up in there. The walls are even painted a pastel blue.”

  Gian’s brow furrowed. “Of course, it is. You’re thirty-eight weeks pregnant, bella. I’m not sure when you think it would be appropriate for it to be done, but before the baby arrives is a good time for me.”

  “But I kept saying no about living here, Gian.”

  “So?”

  “You have everything he needs.”

  “Why should you travel a bunch of stuff back and forth if you don’t need to?” Gian asked.

  “Why don’t you demand things of me? I’m having your child, we’re in … whatever we are, this relationship together. Why don’t you want more? Why don’t you demand more?”

  “Because I don’t think you want me to, and I’m not sure it would make a difference if I did demand you do what I wanted,” Gian answered honestly.

  Cara just stared at him, barely reacting at all. “And that’s all?”

  “I love you, Cara. I will love you whether you live with me or not. I will love you if you’re with me, or not. I will love you even when you don’t love me. So, we don’t get to be entirely normal, and circumstances kind of fucked us up along the way. Who cares? You make me happy; you give me every reason to be happy. Why would I mess that up by demanding that you change what you’re fine with giving me?”

  She didn’t answer right away.

  Instead, Cara said, “I’d like to stay here.”

  “Live here,” Gian clarified.

  “I want to be with you, Gian.”

  “I think we can make that happen.”

  He’d been waiting for this day; hoping for it, really. Living there was one thing. Gian wanted to give Cara something far more permanent where the penthouse was concerned. Something that no one could take from her. He only needed her signature on already finished documents, but that could wait for another day.

  The prettiest, widest smile bloomed over Cara’s lips, and Gian couldn’t help himself but take another kiss. Cara relented to his wants, letting him take and take until she was breathless and laughing.

  “But you do stink,” she said.

  “Showering now, Tesoro.”

  Her tinkling laughter followed him down the hallway, but he didn’t mind her teasing. He didn’t waste time showering, because he had something far better waiting for him outside the bathroom. He quickly showered up in the attached master bedroom’s bath, didn’t bother to shave like he should have, and walked out with nothing but a towel in his hand to run through his hair.

  He found Cara staring at herself in the large mirror opposite of the bed.

  She let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t reach it.”

  “Reach what, love?”

  “The stupid zipper on this dress. I got it up earlier, and now I can’t get it down.”

  Gian held back his laughter. “Why bother with a dress at all? You have those comfy clothes you like.”

  “I wanted to wear something other than pants with stretchy panels, Gian.”

  “And now you want the dress off?”

  “I miss my comfy pants,” she admitted with a pout over her shoulder.

  “I’ll help,” Gian told her.

  Gian tied the damn towel around his waist, not missing for a second how Cara’s gaze dropped down to his hard erection before it was covered. He couldn’t help it, really. She was near, and as beautiful as ever—more so, carrying his child, if anything—which meant his cock was ready to play and do its thing.

  “How can you even want to fuck?” Cara asked.

  “You,” he corrected as he came to stand behind her. “I want to fuck you because you’re within touching distance and you’re mia bella cara. If I didn’t want to, then there would be a problem.”

  “Gian, right now I have the sex appeal of a slug. You can’t be serious.”

  “Do you want to bet?”

  “Bet on what?” Cara laughed, letting him pull the zipper on the dress down her back. “That I’m as huge as a house, and not exactly a hot fucking commodity in the sex department?”

  “Cara, you are …”

  Her gaze found his in the mirror. “What? Very pregnant. Very uncomfortable. Very—”

  “Much mine,” Gian interrupted firmly, hoping to quiet whatever nonsense was in her head. He began sliding the dress down her body, taking his time to enjoy baring her skin and curves while he did so. “Maybe there’s a bit more of you to enjoy right now, and I think it makes you sexier. Maybe you heat up a little faster when I touch you, and your shivers come from somewhere deeper. I like this,” he said, letting his palm skim over the roundness of her stomach before drifting lower to slip under her lace panties. “I like that this is where I’ve gotten you, and the way you look because of it, pretty and sweet with my child. Why wouldn’t I like every bit of this, Cara? What man wouldn’t be crazy about this?”

  Cara’s breath hitched as the dress fell to the floor, and Gian’s fingers glided along the hood of her clit. Jesus, she was hot to the touch and it was glorious.

  “A-and after?” Cara asked softly. “After, when I’m not like this or like before, either?”

  Gian grinned, leaning in to get a taste of the tender skin behind Cara’s ear. Her responding shiver only made his cock ache even more—got him harder. “So maybe you’ll be plus douce … doux, mon ange. Softer, in spots. Sweeter, in others. Maybe you’ll have some new lines or curves for me to explore and love, but don’t you think you’ve earned those things? Don’t you think this body of yours and what it’s doing, deserves to be adored and loved, no matter if there’s a little more, or it’s a little different?”

  “I—”

  “Because I think it does,” he interrupted, nipping the spot behind her ear to quiet her. “I think something that’s this beautiful should know, and I intend to make sure that you do, Cara.”

  “So, no slug sex appeal?”

  “Not even a little bit. That’s nonsense. You’re as beautiful and as sexy as you’ve always been to me, and I don’t see that changing. Not with time or life. Not with more children or age. It just won’t, bella mia. You’re perfect. For me, you’re perfect. And I waited so long for you, Cara, so damn long.”

  Cara’s trembling picked up, and her breaths came out in stuttered streams as Gian’s fingers continued their slow and steady pressure on her clit with each stroke. “I’m going to come.”

  “Yeah, that’s the point.” His free hand slid under her throat, turning her face just enough that she had to stare at herself in the mirror while the orgasm raced through her body. “And look at how fucking beautiful you are. Like this, with me. Why wouldn’t I want to see this, Cara? Why not?”

  And good God, she was beautiful when she came.

  Flushed skin and a trembling lower lip. Hooded eyes and red curls framing her pretty face. Shaking from top to bottom with the most pleased sigh falling from her godforsaken mouth. He loved every inch of this woman. Every single curve and line that she owned fit perfectly into his own. He loved her.

  “Gian.”

  “Hmm?” His fingers slowed on her clit as she hummed her way th
rough an orgasm that seemed to go on and on for ages. He explored lower, finding her wet and hot at her slit, just like he expected and wanted her to be. “Talk to me, Cara.”

  “You said it all pretty well without me needing to.”

  “I do try,” he murmured. “And I know you miss when I choke you, when it hurts so good, or when I use you harder; I know you want me to fuck you crazy, and I will. But never like this, not when you’re like this, sweetheart.”

  Not when she was fragile.

  Not when she was growing something oh, so precious.

  Not when he could worship her for being everything.

  He just couldn’t do it. He wanted to love her differently, then. Not that it was a better way, but he liked it just the same.

  Cara’s gaze darted to catch his in the mirror, and love stared back. “This is good, too.”

  Gian tipped Cara’s head back far enough that he could catch her mouth in another burning, long kiss. Her tongue tangled with his, while his fingers weaved into her hair to hold her in place for as long as he wanted. He couldn’t quite get enough—not of her softness, sweetness, her taste and smell, or all the rest that made up her wonderfulness.

  It was never enough.

  “Show me how good, then,” he urged. “Show me how good you are, how good you look with me, Cara. Show me you see, too.”

  Cara was bent over before Gian could get another word out of his mouth. Her pretty ass was high in the air, while she used the sides of the mirror for support to keep her steady. Gian used those few moments he had to admire the woman begging for his hands to touch her, for his cock to fuck her, and how absolutely perfect she looked bent over, ready, and so damn willing. He dropped his towel and filled her full of his cock while her gaze stayed locked on him in the mirror.

  He felt every fucking inch of her take him in, squeeze tight around him, and promise something wicked and heavenly was on the way. Still, he kept his gaze locked on hers. With each hard thrust that she met, and every long pull that came a little faster than the last, he watched her.

  She had to see what he did, even if he spent the rest of his life making it happen.

  Gian would do it.

  Happily.

  Gian rubbed his forehead to ease the tension settling there, and went back to looking over the emails in his inbox. What he needed to do was get some sleep, but as he was already behind on work, he couldn’t afford to take the extra rest.

  It never ended.

  Life was always getting in the way.

  “Gian?”

  The cell phone on his desk rang at the same time Elena’s voice filtered in from the doorway of the office. Gian answered the phone, and held up a finger to ask for a moment from Elena.

  “Ciao, bonjour,” Gian greeted, not even checking the caller ID.

  “It’s time.”

  It took Gian far too many seconds and a few more blinks of his eyes to realize who was speaking on the other end of the call, and what exactly they were trying to tell him.

  Cara.

  And her words could only mean one wonderful thing.

  “You’re sure?” he asked.

  Cara blew out a hard breath that crackled the speakers. “Oh, yes. Definitely sure, Gian. These contractions are nothing like those fake ones I was having. It fucking hurts.”

  Gian winced, and kept the panic he was suddenly feeling out of his tone. For one, because he knew Cara didn’t need the extra worry, and for two, because Elena was just a few feet away, listening to one side of the conversation.

  “Have you been timing it?” he asked.

  “They’re ten minutes apart now for two hours, so lots more of this to go yet. Also, that kind of sucks, because if they hurt now, just think, Gian.”

  “Think what?”

  “Think how much it’s going to hurt when it’s like thirty seconds apart.”

  “You’re going to be fine,” he assured.

  Cara was strong as hell.

  Silent strength.

  Steadfast love.

  She just was.

  “Water?” he asked carefully, mindful of Elena’s presence.

  “Not yet,” Cara replied, “but the doctors said it’s not like the movies, anyway. Lots of women’s water doesn’t break until they’re in active labor, so.”

  “I’ll head over.”

  “Don’t rush, we’ve got time.”

  Gian chuckled, and shook his head. “You’re kidding, right? Of course, I’m going to rush.”

  “Don’t get yourself killed on the highway or something, Gian. I swear to God.” Cara’s next breath came out stuttered and her voice strained. “All right, I’m going to hang up because another one is starting, and I don’t want to talk through it.”

  “I’ll listen to you rage, if that’s—”

  “Goodbye, Gian.”

  He laughed when she hung up the phone on him. He had zero doubt that Cara would be just fine through labor and birth. If anything, she was too stubborn to get overwhelmed by something as silly as pain. It would likely be him on the floor in a panic, passed out or something equally humiliating.

  Birth was not for the faint of heart, or so Gian was told.

  “You’re leaving?” Elena asked.

  Gian closed down his laptop, packed it up, and grabbed the suit jacket off the back of the office chair. “I am.”

  “Congratulations are in order, hmm?”

  He shot his wife a look. “I beg your pardon?”

  “The only reason you would rush out at night after a phone call like that one is because your goomah is having the baby. Congratulations are in order, so congrats.”

  Apparently, Gian had not been as vague as he thought on the phone call. That, or Elena was just very perceptive.

  She cleared her throat, and crossed her arms over her chest. She was ready for bed, by the looks of the silk robe she wore, her clean-face, and the messy bun of hair on top of her head. It was rare that Gian saw Elena in a state that was any less than perfect.

  “I did try to be discreet on the call,” Gian said.

  “I could tell, but I’m also not stupid.”

  “I likely won’t be around for a couple of days. Don’t expect me, not that you’ll mind, I’m sure.”

  Elena glanced away, her jaw tight and eyes hard. But there was a barely hidden sadness in her features, too. Gian hadn’t expected that at all.

  “Again, congrats,” she murmured. “I hope he’s everything you want, and everything we don’t have, Gian. It’s easier for you that way, isn’t it? When everything you share with her, is nothing like what waits for you here?”

  “You don’t really need an answer for that, Elena. You already know.”

  How different they could have been, he thought. How entirely different their life could have been together.

  If only she had cared enough.

  Gian no longer cared at all.

  Marcus Gian Guzzi made his way into the world nearly twenty-four hours to the minute that Cara had called Gian. He came into the world quietly, pink, slick and bloodstained. He didn’t cry at first, but not because something was wrong.

  No, he didn’t cry because he was born with his eyes wide open, already looking for the people that belonged to only him.

  The smallest thing to have ever scared the very life out of Gian.

  The most beautiful thing to have ever graced his life, next to his mother.

  An amazing, tiny, brown-haired, dark-eyed creature that was nothing like Gian had expected, but so much more. Ten perfect fingers, and ten perfect toes. Soft, warm skin, and facial features, right down to the dimple in his cheek, that matched his father.

  Features that matched the Guzzi genes.

  Cara had been so quiet through the process, measured breaths and quivering words. She wanted Gian close, but she barely spoke to him at all. He went off her cues, to give her what she wanted, and didn’t ask to be told what to do. It wasn’t him doing this wonderful thing, after all. It was all on her.

&n
bsp; It was only when, in a birthing pool of her choice, she had pushed Marcus out into the world that she did so with her first and only cry.

  And it wasn’t so much a cry as a roar.

  It was kind of perfect, too.

  Hours after, once Cara had finally drifted off to sleep, and Gian was awake in the private room, holding his blinking newborn son, he took that silent moment to be amazed.

  So amazed and in wonder.

  His child was everything.

  Gian lifted the swaddled boy a little higher, bringing him closer so that Marcus’s hazy gaze could catch his father’s. Sure enough, the baby stilled under his swaddling blankets the moment he locked onto Gian’s face, and everything was right and good and beautiful in that moment.

  “Sweet boy. First of my legacy and house, and the seventh of your name. With blood made of gold, luck, and dirt, child. You don’t know what awaits you; you have no idea how amazing you’re going to be, but you don’t need to know, not yet. You have a whole life for me to teach you all of that, so it can wait. Guzzi Principe, this world is yours. This whole great, big world is all yours, Marcus.”

  Like all Guzzi boys, Marcus was born a prince.

  And like all Guzzi men, he’d eventually be a king.

  “A little more, please.”

  Cara tipped her head down, the action causing more of her curls to fall over her shoulder. “Like that?”

  “A bit too much, actually,” the photographer replied. “Now we’re more like a curtain of hair, instead of a few stray curls.”

  “Here, let me help.” Gian stepped into Cara’s view, and in front of the white backdrop. He smiled down at her, his fingers sliding along the column of her throat to push back the hair that had fallen over her shoulder. Cara had all she could do not to shiver, and guessing by the way Gian’s grin deepened, he saw it, too. “There, perfect.”

  “Step back and let me see, Gian.”

  At the photographer’s demand, Gian gave Cara a wink, and did as he was told.

  “Yes, that’s much better,” the woman said. Then, her camera started up again, capturing images of Cara in a stone-still pose, with a sleeping, one-week old, naked Marcus in her arms. “You do seem to have a good eye for this sort of thing, Gian. Do you dabble in photography at all?”