“God, Tommaso … Tommaso…” Her body bucked and jerked with the force of her orgasm, but Tommaso, coming with a groan inside her, flipped her onto her stomach and pushed gently into her ass. Bo clenched the sheets as he took her—she had never been fond of anal sex, but with this man, God, he sent her flying—and she came quickly again, her entire body vibrating with pleasure.
Tommaso kissed her tenderly as they recovered their breath, and Bo stroked his face. “Well,” she said, with a grin, “that was even better than I had imagined it.”
“You imagined it?”
“Oh, yes,” she laughed. “Many, many times.”
Tommaso grinned. “Me too. God, your body … it’s heaven.”
Bo blushed. “Thank you … I get told so often to lose weight that it’s nice when someone appreciates it the way it is.”
“You are not overweight in any way. Who wants to fuck skin and bones? Look at Inca; she’s all curves too.”
Bo frowned. Why was he bringing up his sister-in-law? He saw her face and looked vaguely sheepish. “Sorry. Look, you might as well know. Inca was my girlfriend before Raff’s.”
That did surprise her. “So, you and Inca have slept together.”
Tommaso looked away from her gaze. “A long time ago. Everything worked out for the best.”
Suddenly Bo felt a little awkward. She sat up and reached for a bottle of water on the nightstand, taking a cool long drink. She studied him. “You’re not still hung up on her, are you?”
Tommaso shook his head. “No, I promise. And … how about you? I know Kit Mallory meant a lot to you.”
“He did. He does, of course. He always will, and I still have a connection to that family. I still miss him. But it’s not going to bring him back.”
“I know. Perdita—that’s Matteo’s mother—I still can’t believe she is gone. I mean, before Raff and Inca’s wedding, I hadn’t seen Perdy for … well, five years.”
“And she turned up at your wedding?”
Tommaso’s face darkened. “It was my father trying to ruin Raff’s wedding by turning up with his ‘son’.”
Bo felt confused. “Wait … Raff’s son?”
Tommaso grinned wryly. “Perdy was Raff’s girlfriend.”
Bo gaped at him. “Wait … do you two share all your women?”
He held his hands up. “I know it seems like that, but no, I swear, both occasions were very different, and everyone is with the person they should be with now. Perdita actually left both of us after we cheated on Raff. My father—our father—is a manipulative piece of work. He wants to control our lives, but we cut him out completely after he tried to kill Inca.”
Bo was very uncomfortable now. “He tried to kill her?”
“He tried to rape her, and she stabbed him with some scissors. Made him mad.”
“Good for her.” Bo felt furious on behalf of her friend. “Bad ass.”
Tommaso shook his head. “You have no idea. So, yeah, Edgar Winter is scum, and that’s how I ended up being reunited with Perdita and my son. Then we had the accident. “
“I’m sorry, Tommaso.”
He nodded. “Thank you—coming from you, it means a lot, just … life sucks, sometimes.”
She laughed softly and stroked his chest. “And sometimes it doesn’t.”
Tommaso smiled and kissed her. “And sometimes it doesn’t.”
In the morning, they got up early to be back at Raffaelo’s villa before the kids were awake. Their plan was foiled though; as they arrived, they heard the boys shrieking with laughter, and the sounds of water splashing.
Raff greeted Bo and Tommaso with a smile.
“They’re in the pool with Inca.”
“Hello, Mummy,” Tiger called, and she waved at him, delighted to see his joy-filled face. Tommaso called out to Matteo, who looked at his father hesitantly, then gave him a small smile and wave.
“Progress.” Tommaso was obviously pleased. Bo watched as Inca threw a football to the boys, and they sent it back at with such force it made her shriek—they were obviously ganging up on her.
One of Raffaelo’s chefs was laying a breakfast buffet out on the outside table. Bo grinned at Raffaelo. “I’m sure you Italians just try and fatten me up all the time.”
Raff grinned. “We love our food, it’s true.”
They all feasted and, after breakfast, Bo went with Inca as she showered and dressed. Tommaso was right; Inca was slim, but curvy, full-figured. Because she was petite though, Bo had always thought of her as skinny. But seeing her now, she realized she’d been wrong and felt more comfortable with her.
“So?” said Inca, dragging her underwear on, completely uninhibited in front of Bo. “Tell me everything.”
Bo laughed out loud. “Inks, you know what happened … even, I believe, what it was like.”
Inca blushed. “Sorry, I should have told you. But it was a long time ago, and it’s not important now. You had a good time?”
“Very. Tommaso is … incredible.”
Inca looked delighted, and she hugged Bo. “I’m so glad.”
“All down to your machinations, Inca Winter. God. Inca Winter…”
Inca broke into peals of laughter. “Oh, I know. That’s why I went double-barreled. I wanted to take Raff’s name, but there was no getting around it. But, stop changing the subject … so you think …?”
Bo’s smiled faded. “Sweetie, I don’t know. I have such a full schedule, and I’m all over the place. It’s hard enough to make sure Tiger doesn’t have too much disruption … add in an international boyfriend and …”
Inca pouted. “I get it. I do. It would be a shame, is all. You two are so right for each other.”
Bo grinned. “And you can tell from just one night?”
“Oh, yes. Look, Bo, life is short. We, all of us, have had experience of that. I just want you both to be happy.”
Later, Raffaelo and Tommaso decided to take the boys to the marina, and Inca and Bo wandered around the boutiques in the city, chatting idly.
It was getting late in the day, and as Bo handed the store clerk her purchases, she looked around for Inca. Her friend was nowhere to be seen. “Have you seen my friend?”
The store clerk shook her head, but called over to her assistant. “She went outside with an older man,” the other woman said, looking nervous. “She didn’t look happy.”
Bo felt adrenaline spike through her. She went outside and looked around, but couldn’t see Inca anywhere. She circled the area twice before she saw Inca’s bag lying on the ground. She darted over to it, and picked it up. Heart pounding, Bo called Tommaso. “Tommaso … it’s Inca. I think someone has taken her.”
At home, Raffaelo paced around like a man in torment. Bo settled the kids in bed—they went quietly, knowing something was very wrong.
“It’s Edgar,” Raffaelo spat. “He’s determined to take his revenge. Oh God …”
Tommaso, his handsome face hard, was talking to the police, his tone fierce. “He’s gone too far this time … if anything happens to her …”
Bo waited until he had finished talking to the police, then hugged him. “I know she’ll be okay. Bad ass, remember?”
He leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m scared for her, for Raff. He won’t survive if anything happens to her.”
And what about you? she wanted to ask, but pushed the thought away. That wasn’t fair; even she would be devastated if Inca was hurt, and she hadn’t known her nearly as long.
“Why would she go with him?”
Raffaelo looked like a broken man, and they had no answers for him.
It was four a.m. when the police pounded on the door. Raff steeled himself for bad news as he opened it.
She’s dead. She’s dead.
Instead, the police officer smiled at him. “We’ve found your wife, Mr. Winter.”
Raffaelo almost collapsed, and Tommaso had to hold him up. “She’s okay?”
“She’s been taken to the hospital, but s
he should be fine. As we suspected, she was abducted by Edgar Winter. She told us he had a knife and forced her to get into his car.”
“Is she hurt?”
“Slightly … defensive wounds. We believe Mr Winter intended to kill her and dump her body, but she fought back.”
Raffaelo moaned, and Tommaso held him tighter. “She’s okay, Raff. She’s okay.” He turned to the officer. “Is she upset?”
The police officer smiled slightly. “More angry than upset. Mr Winter definitely came off the worst in that fight. He’s in custody now. We’ll charge him with attempted murder and kidnapping.”
Raffaelo’s shoulders slumped. “Look, I need to get to my wife.”
“Of course.”
Bo hugged him. “We’ll stay and take care of the kids. Tell Inca we love her.”
“I will, thank you.” He left with the police officer, and the house was quiet again.
Tommaso took Bo in his arms. “Life is short.” She nodded. This whole thing had brought back memories of when Kit had died and now, with the relief of knowing Inca was safe, she began to cry, for the life she never had with Kit, for the life she so desperately wanted with this incredible man …
Tommaso held her until her sobs became hiccups, then she smiled up at him. “Sorry. That’s been a long time coming.”
He nodded, his eyes serious. “Bella, I don’t know what is going to happen in the future, or how we can possibly make this work. I just know, I want to make it work. If it means me and Matteo coming to England to live, so be it. The boys already adore each other, and being with Tiger has brought me and Matteo closer. It’s still not everything it should be, but we can work on that. And as for you and me … I like the way it’s going—don’t you?”
Bo smiled, feeling her heart lift. “I do. So, what are you saying?”
Tommaso smiled and kissed her. “I’m saying … let’s not waste any time. Let’s try to work this out. I want you. I want to be with you … what do you say?”
Bo Kennedy looked at him and knew exactly what her answer would be …
Two years later …
Tommaso gripped her hands in his and pressed his lips to her forehead as she panted for breath. “It’s almost over, my darling, almost over.”
Bo dragged in some more air, her face creased with pain as the doctor called out to her,
“Time to push again, Bo. One more time, hard, now …”
Bo let out a banshee cry and she bore down hard, trying to ease their child’s birth. And, when she felt the blessed release as their daughter was born, she began to cry with happiness. Tommaso couldn’t stop kissing her as the doctor put their newborn child on Bo’s chest.
“She’s beautiful, she’s beautiful…” Bo couldn’t stop staring at her daughter, who opened her mouth to squeak and yawn, her tiny fists kneading at her mother. Tommaso kissed her small head, then pressed his lips to Bo’s, tears rolling down his cheek. “Wait till the boys meet their sister.”
“Can they come in?” Bo didn’t care that she was covered in blood and goo, she wanted their family to be complete in this moment.
Inca led the boys in, and Bo waved at her to stay. Inca smiled down at the newborn. “She is precious. Bo, Tommaso, congratulations.” She didn’t stay, not wanting to intrude, but blew kisses at them both.
Tiger and Matteo climbed on the bed—hurriedly cleaned by the nurses—and stared down at their sister. “She’s really small,” said Tiger, vaguely unimpressed.
Bo grinned at him.
“I’m very pleased about it too, in a way I’ll explain when you’re older. Matteo?”
Matteo was staring at his sister in wonder. “She looks like Papa. Can we keep her?”
Bo saw the tears in Tommaso’s eyes at that. “Of course we can. From now on, it’s the five of us forever, right?”
“Right,” said the boys, and laughed, stroking their sister’s tiny head.
Tommaso kissed his lover again, gazing into her eyes.
“Thank you for making me the happiest man,” he said gently, “The happiest. The luckiest man.”
“I’m the lucky one,” Bo whispered back and, as he kissed her again, she knew, finally, she had found her place in the world …
The End
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Dirty Money
The one thing Aulora Greene is terrified of is wealthy men. Her rich father abandoned her as a child and she never recovered from the trauma. Every time a business man in a two thousand dollar suit looks her way, she panics.
So how's she going to react when billionaire Weston Calloway, the most powerful business man in the city, starts pursuing her relentlessly. He sees her, he wants her, and he always gets what she wants.
Collateral Damage: Part one
‘It looks like it might rain’, Aulora thought as she idled at a stoplight. She waited for the green arrow to signal so then she could turn into the parking lot where she worked, becoming more frustrated with each passing moment that the road on both sides stayed empty and that the light stayed red. “C’mon,” she mumbled to herself. “I’m gonna be late.”
Finally, mercifully, the green arrow appeared and she turned across the wide street into a sloped parking lot outside Tackleman’s, the grungy sports bar that had helped her pay her bills for the past two years. The gravelly noise in her engine was back, she noticed, as she situated herself in her favorite parking spot. It’s just because it’s cold, Aullie told herself. She couldn’t afford any significant repairs.
The dated, blue Accord was on its last legs and she was firmly in denial about it. It wasn’t like she had the money for a new car.
Twisting the keys out of the ignition, she snatched her black, canvas, serving apron off the floor from under the passenger seat, amidst an array of discarded receipts and crinkled plastic water bottles. The door creaked as she opened it and again as she slammed it behind her and manually locked it.
The air was crisp and cool, making her snuggle into her fleece-lined hemp hoodie as she crossed the mostly empty parking lot. ‘Great…’ she thought as the chill bit the tip of her nose, ‘…another slow night’.
The front door, a heavy, scuffed monstrosity with fading brass handles and a white TACKLEMAN’S decal, peeling off from the dingy windows, groaned as she yanked it open and a blast of heated air warmed her chilly cheeks. Inside, feel-good music played quietly on a constant loop in the dimly-lit bar.
Tackleman’s boasted thirty-six beers on tap. They were usually out of about twelve of them. A full wet bar, all house liquors, loomed behind a colossal wooden bar plastered with tacky sports memorabilia, flickering neon signs and celebrity mug shots. Worn tables, most with an aged and peeling finish, were scattered around the bar in a sort of ‘wherever it fits, it goes’ design. A low stage sagged into the back corner, near a small, pathetic excuse for a dance floor. It was usually lonely, except for the wretched weekend nights when local bands of graying wannabes did their best to rupture Aullie’s ear drums.
“Hey, Aullie!” a baby-faced blonde called out, galloping up to the front of the bar with an enthused smile. Dammit, Aullie thought, she had really been meaning to learn the new host’s name.
“Hey,” she said vaguely, with a half-assed smile, hoping the girl wouldn’t notice that she hadn’t said her name back.
She didn’t. The girl just rested her elbows on the weathered wooden podium used as the hostess stand. The dusty chalkboard on the front advertised the daily specials in colorful chalk, and whoever had done it that day had some very big, very loopy handwriting done in pink.
“Long time, no see! Am I right?” Blondie tried for a lame, over-friendly joke. Aullie wanted to roll her eyes but resisted the urge. “But hey, look. You’ve got, like, a really good section tonight.”
“Yeah, I would hope so. I told Napoleon I would come in early and close tonight,” Aullie said,
peering over the host stand to scan the table chart. Five tables, all large, somewhat clean booths near the bar, plus whatever came in after everyone else was cut. She could work with that.
“Hopefully it gets busy, I’m sooo bored,” the other girl whined.
“Yeah,” Aullie replied bluntly, breaking off the conversation and making her way past the bar and around the tables, to the back.
Some Tackleman’s guests weren’t even sure the bar had a kitchen because it was tucked way back in the far-right corner. There was a short, metal expo line where the kitchen served up the food. Around the corner, it opened to a semi-cramped kitchen that had probably once been pristine and white but was now stained, yellowed and dirty.
One by one, the on-duty cooks acknowledged her, their greetings ranging from ‘Yo, Aullie!’ to a sultry ‘Hey, girl!’ and she nodded or waved in return. Most of them had worked there as long as she had, and some were even like family.
The kitchen backed up to another partial wall, behind which were the manager’s office and two rows of coat hooks for the staff. Several jackets and various sizes of backpacks hung from the hooks already and Aullie wriggled out of her sweatshirt and hung it off one of the hooks on the lower rack. She tied her apron around her waist, securing the strings with a double-knotted bow under her belt buckle and tucking it under the flap. She checked her pockets; coasters on the left, order book in the center, and a cluster of pens in the right. She was good to go.
The door to the manager’s office was most often closed but not on that night. Through the opening, she heard a familiar voice call out, “Aullie, is that you?”
Dr. Orgasm (A Holiday Romance Collection Book 2) Page 40