by Sarah Curtis
"Remove your bra and panties and get on the bed."
She watched as he finished undressing, his clothes mixing with hers on the floor. She wasn't sure why that felt so intimate, but it did. His and hers entangling to become a theirs.
He reached over the bed, gathering pillows, placing two under her head and one under her hips after telling her to lie back.
He climbed on beside her, lying on his side, elbow to the bed, head in his palm. His other hand reached out, stroking over her stomach. Long, slow strokes while his eyes devoured her from head to toe.
For all his urgency a moment ago, he now took his time, seemingly not to be rushed. She spread her legs a little wider, hoping he'd get the hint.
He gave her a wicked smile.
"Nico, please." She wasn't ashamed to beg because it usually got her what she wanted. It just didn't seem to be working then.
His hand moved from her stomach up to her breasts, his fingers lightly grazing her nipples. They were extra sensitive during the last stage of her pregnancy, just that light touch left her throbbing and aching. She kicked her legs wider, trying to grab his attention.
"Tell me what you want, tesoro, in detail. I want to hear you say it."
She felt her cheeks heat, but she was so needy, she was willing to do about anything he wanted. "I want you to touch me."
"I am touching you." He pinched her nipple to prove his point.
"No, lower." She struggled with the words she knew he wanted her to say.
"Lower where?"
He was going to make her say it, and she was getting desperate enough that she just might. "My... my..."
He put her out of her misery. "Pussy?"
"Yes," she breathed out on a sigh.
But he wasn't done. "What do you want me to do to your pussy?"
She closed her eyes, digging her head back into the pillows. "Touch it."
He moved his hand to her thigh, and she almost whimpered. "Touch it how?"
"Your fingers. I want your fingers, Nico."
Those same fingers she begged for, teasingly inched up her inner thigh.
He leaned in close to her ear. Her eyes were still closed, but she felt his weight shift and his warm breath. "And where do you want my fingers, tesoro?"
"Inside me. Please, Nico, please." She was so far gone, she was rambling.
She felt his fingers enter her at the same time he rasped, "I love it when you say my name."
She was coming before he finished his sentence. Mind soaring, her body spasming, she moaned out his name.
"Sei più bella di un angelo." His voice was a distant whisper.
She coasted on a sea of sensations as his mouth found her breast. His fingers were still inside her, but were now motionless as his thumb found her clit, rubbing it in small circles. She moaned again, her body coming back to life. How again so soon, she wasn't sure, but at that point, she didn't care.
She widened her legs farther, grinding with her hips, trying to create friction on his unmoving fingers. He sucked on her nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive peak, creating a whole body shiver.
She needed more.
"Nico."
And then he said words that were music to her ears. "Roll over, up on your hands and knees, and scoot to the end of the bed."
She was quick to comply as he got off the bed, coming behind her. He didn't waste time. Grabbing her hips, he slowly sank into her, filling her completely. The hard length of him brushed against her walls, stretching her as he pulled out then pushed back in.
She squeezed him, wanting more. Needing him deeper and harder. She pushed back against him, trying to convey her urgency.
His lips landed between her shoulder blades, his tongue coming out to lick her skin. "Tell me what you want, tesoro." His voice—low and gruff—had a direct link to where they were connected, creating an ache only he could appease.
"I want... more."
He pulled out, then slammed back in harder, his hands gripping her hips, his fingertips clinging to her hip bones.
Stars and bright rays of color danced behind her closed lids. "Yes!" That's what she wanted, the hard length of him pounding into her, brushing against her sensitive nerves.
Her climax started to build, rising higher, taking her breath. She clutched at the sheets, all her muscles tightening, anticipating the explosion she knew was imminent.
And then it hit. Wave after wave of pleasure, gaining strength until it crested, crashing over her with a mighty force.
She heard Nico shout above her, his hands gripping her hips so tightly, he was sure to leave bruises. But she didn't care, seeing them there would bring back nothing but wonderful memories.
She dropped her head, her breathing erratic, her heartbeat pounding out of her chest. Nico dusted kisses along her shoulder, her nape, down the center of her back, his breathing just as ragged.
He slowly pulled out, and she flopped to her side. The bed dipped, and she felt his heat at her back before his arm came around her, pulling her close. "You okay?"
"Wonderful." She sounded drunk, that single word slurring into several additional syllables.
He chuckled in her ear, and she savored the sound. His hand was back, stroking her belly, but now, fully sated, it was a comforting touch connecting the three of them together.
A yawn escaped, and she quickly tried to cover it.
"Try to get some sleep, tesoro."
"I missed out on my surprise."
"It'll keep until next week."
"I liked this surprise better." She was starting to drift, her thoughts floating away and her mind shutting down.
But she did hear him say, "Me too, tesoro mio, me too."
Chapter Thirty
Olivia wasn't sure what had woken her. The room was dark and cast in shadows. She looked at the bedside clock—one-thirty. She could see enough to tell the bed beside her was empty. Nico had told her he'd be working late, but it was really late.
She heard another noise and reaching over, clicked on the light. A figure stood in the middle of the room, startling a small squeak from her, and she panicked for the few seconds it took her to realize who it was.
Al.
Bringing a hand to her chest, trying to slow her racing heart, she said, "God, you scared me."
"Sorry, I couldn't find the light switch."
"What are you doing in here? Is something wrong? Is Nico okay?" Her mind was still jumbled from sleep. Her thoughts scattered this way and that.
"You need to come with me."
She threw off the covers, sliding her legs off the side of the bed. "Give me a minute to get dressed."
"Hurry." He backed out of the room.
She raced as fast as she could to the closet, drawing her nightgown off over her head in the process. With no time to think about it, she grabbed the red sundress she'd worn earlier that day, throwing it on and pulling it down over her enlarged belly, sliding into a pair of flip-flops at the same time. She yanked the closest sweater off its hanger—knowing there'd be a chill in the May evening air—not caring that the light-yellow cashmere would clash with the bright red of her dress. The whole process had taken only a minute.
Al was waiting for her when she opened the bedroom door. He took her by the hand, which she thought was strange, but didn't have time to dwell as he was already rushing her to the stairs. He was more cautious leading her down, making sure she didn't miss a step, gripping her hand tighter for support.
"Please tell me if Nico's okay." She panted as they reached the bottom
step.
"He'll be fine, but he wants me to bring you to him."
Oh God. Was he severely injured? Was that why he couldn't come to her?
"Come on, we've gotta hurry," he said, opening the car door for her and helping her in.
She fastened her seat belt as Al got in the driver's side. Starting the engine, he raced down the driveway and out the gate.
* * * * *
Nico let himself into the house, flipping on the foyer light. It had been a long night, and he was tired—both mentally and physically. His monthly meetings with his father tended to do that.
All was quiet, as it should be for two in the morning, until it wasn't. First, he heard scratching, next, a whine, and then a sharp yap. He turned his head to his closed office door. He never closed it while he was gone.
A cold tingle formed on the back of his neck.
Another high-pitched yap ending with a whine had his feet moving to the door. Testing the handle, he found it unlocked and pushed the door open.
Their two seven-month-old German shepherds flew out the door, barking as they raced for the stairs.
Olivia.
Nico took the stairs two at a time. His heart raced and his breath was choppy, but it wasn't from exertion. It was from worry that escalated to fear as he reached the top of the stairs to discover their bedroom door wide open. An anomaly.
The bed was empty except for the two dogs now sprawled on it. "Olivia." He looked to the sitting area. She'd been having trouble sleeping lately, and many times he'd wake to find her on the couch either reading or watching TV. The couch was vacant, too.
He checked the bathroom next. Empty. "Olivia."
The door to the baby's room was ajar. Breathing a small sigh of relief, he knew he would find her there.
But she wasn't. "Olivia!"
One of the dogs barked. It was his only response.
He whipped out his cell phone. Olivia's line rang, then he heard her phone ring from the dresser.
Fuck.
He hung up and tried Al. One ring then it went to voice mail.
Fuck!
He wanted to throw his phone. He took a deep breath instead. Then called Marco. It rang once before it was picked up. Thank Christ. "Olivia is missing, and Al's not answering his fucking phone."
"I'll be there in a few minutes."
"No. I can't fucking wait. Call some of the boys and meet me at Carmine's." Nico hung up before he could hear Marco's protest.
Then he left to go find his wife.
* * * * *
Olivia looked out her window. They'd left the city, and the view was nothing but moonlit barren-desert landscape. "Where are we going?"
They'd been driving for at least twenty minutes. She looked over at Al. He hadn't said a word since they'd left even though she'd asked him again whether Nico was okay. And now he still didn't answer her.
"Al, what's going on? Where are we going? I need to know if Nico's all right." She knew he wasn't a conversationalist, but come on, she needed some answers.
She must have finally gotten through because he sighed and said, "Nico's at a warehouse, and we're going there to meet him."
"Is he okay?"
"Yes," he said but didn't elaborate.
She sighed and looked out the window again. At least he'd told her something.
They pulled up in front of an old, gray building about ten minutes later. The place was rundown—peeling paint, water stains, and graffiti coated the outside—and looked deserted. They came to a stop, and she unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out of the car. She pulled her sweater closed, crossing her arms. The wind was chilly and the gusts strong with nothing to deter them in the vast emptiness surrounding her.
Al came around the front of the car and took her arm, leading her to the door. She didn't protest, though the place was eerie. She slowed her step, having second thoughts, wondering if she should have tried calling Nico instead of blindly following Al.
Al's grip on her tightened. "Come on. We need to hurry."
She shook her head. Al may be a little odd, but he was loyal to Nico and Nico trusted him. She pushed away her doubts, figuring she was just spooked by the environment.
Al opened a rusted metal door, leading her into a large, open space dimly lit with long tubes of fluorescent lighting intermittently spaced along the ceiling. The warehouse looked dirty and abandoned but not completely empty. Piles of trash littered the floor, boxes lined the walls and in clusters throughout the room, and spare machinery parts were scattered throughout.
Al walked her across the vast space. The sound of his dress shoes tapping on the concrete floor and echoing off the walls was the only sound as they neared the back of the room to another door. Al knocked twice, paused, then knocked three more times before he pushed it open.
Olivia came to a sudden stop in the doorway. The room, while still large, was vastly smaller than the one they'd just come from. More concrete lined the floor. White-washed block walls surrounded her. A beat-up metal, four-drawer filing cabinet and an old wooden desk were shoved into a corner.
And standing right in its center, next to a lone metal folding chair, was Travis Scott.
* * * * *
A flash of headlights in his rear-view mirror drew Nico's attention as he sat outside Carmine's property in his Porsche, contemplating the best way of gaining entrance.
Nico had visited Carmine's house once before. Some party a few years back—he couldn't remember what for now. The house wasn't as big as Nico's, but it did sit on a large piece of property enclosed by a stone wall and security gate.
He got a text from Marco.
Here. How do you plan to get in?
Nico was quick to reply.
I'm going to knock really loud.
Marco's reply was quicker.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Nico didn't respond. Marco would find out for himself soon enough.
He clicked on his seat belt and fired up his car, backing as far from the gate as space would allow. Then revving the engine a few times, he let his foot off the brake and hit the gas full throttle.
He felt the body-jolting impact before he heard it. Arms locked, his hands never left the steering wheel, wanting to keep the car straight. The collision of metal against metal zinged through his ears then the whoosh of the airbags followed suit.
Time seemed to slow as he struggled to orient himself, making sure nothing was broken or that he hadn't seriously injured himself. He seemed in one piece.
The driver's door flew open, and a pissed off Marco stood staring in at him. "What the fuck was that?"
Nico pushed the deflated airbag out of his way before stepping out. He looked over the damage. His car was fucked up, the front end mangled like an accordion. Then he looked at the damaged gate, slightly ajar and tilted funny. "That was me knocking really fucking loud." He walked around to the passenger's side and opened the door. "Come on. Help me push this out of the way."
* * * * * *
Olivia took a hasty step back, but Al's hold on her prevented her from going any farther. "What's going on?"
Travis smiled. "Olivia, it's been too long, my dear. Aren't you going to say hello?"
Olivia pulled her eyes from Travis to look at Al. His expression was stone, his gaze fixated on Travis. In a low voice, she asked, "Where's Nico?"
But it was Travis who answered. "Nico's not here." He gave her a sly smile when she looked his way. "It's just us... for now."
What did he mean by that? She didn't ask because she wasn'
t sure she wanted to know. Olivia shifted on her feet, her lower back starting to ache from standing on the hard floor.
"Come, sit down. This chair is for you." His eyes fell to her rounded stomach. "You really shouldn't stand too long in your condition."
She didn't have a chance to protest or argue as Al dragged her to the chair and forcefully sat her down. Travis pulled a roll of duct tape from behind his back.
Olivia was fast to react, trying to stand from the chair and yank her arm from Al's grasp. But he held her tightly, even adding his other hand to her other arm, stepping in front of her, and forcing her arms back behind the chair. "Why are you doing this?" Her question was directed at Al, who squatted in front of her, his face in line with hers.
She felt Travis get to work, wrapping her wrists and securing her to the chair. She knew it was pointless to struggle. Al's strength was way beyond hers. Plus, she was getting pains in her stomach and worried she'd overtaxed or hurt herself. She didn't want to take the chance of causing any further harm.
Of course, Al didn't answer her question, but he did smirk. A new emotion started to simmer under her fear.
Anger.
Eyes sparking, she looked right into Al's. "Nico's going to kill you both."
* * * * *
Men with guns drawn spilled from the gate just as Nico and Marco got the Porsche pushed onto the street. Shoes grinding on gravel as he stepped around his car, Nico pulled his own gun out and aimed. His men followed suit, standing at his back. "Where's Carmine?"
Stephen, Carmine's second-in-command, shoved forward to the front of the group. "What the fuck is this about, Conti? Tell me why I shouldn't shoot you right here, right now?"
"My wife is fucking missing, and I know Carmine took her."
Stephen looked slightly confused before he lowered his weapon. Nico still had his up and drawn, not taking any chances since the rest of Carmine's men still had their guns trained on him.
Stephen made a "hold" signal with his hand to his men before saying, "Carmine is here, but your wife is not. He didn't take her, Nico, I know this for a fact."