by Bethany-Kris
“I’m not amazing,” Naz said. “I’m just me.”
“Maybe.”
He heard her unspoken words.
But not to her.
He was amazing to her.
“Naz?”
Hmm?”
She was still watching him in that way—like she was seeing him for the first time all over again, and nothing else mattered.
“You know I didn’t come here just to look around your place and talk, right?”
Naz kissed her softly. “Yeah, I know. But it’s all on you, girl. Whatever you want, whenever you want it. I love you, so it’s always on you.”
Roz’s blue eyes darkened. “Do you really?”
“What?”
“Love me that much.”
So very much.
His hands came up to cup her throat and jaw, so he could keep her looking at only him. “Let me show you, Roz. Can I show you how I love you?”
His lips were on hers again when she whispered, “Please.”
SEVENTEEN
Roz was acutely aware of cool air whispering over her skin the very same way Naz’s mouth followed the same path. Her skin prickled with goosebumps every single time his lips touched down in a new place. Her bare shoulder, the column of her throat, and then her chin. His tongue would strike out to taste her, too, with each kiss.
It was slow.
Soft.
Deliberate.
It had to be deliberate. Because with each touch of his hands sliding along her curves and removing clothing, and every kiss finding new places on her skin to taste … the heat pooling in her gut intensified. It sent warmth shooting down between her thighs, and it made her shake.
So breathless.
She was so caught up in the way he was taking his time to learn her body that she barely realized she was now standing in nothing but a light blue lace bralette and panty set. That he’d somehow removed all of her clothes, and mostly his, too. So fucking distracted by him, in fact, that she didn’t know they were inside his bedroom until the backs of her legs hit the bed.
Oh, my God.
“Naz,” he murmured against the hollow of her throat. “Not God. Naz, babe. And you can say it as loudly and as often as you want tonight.”
Roz blinked.
Had she said that out loud?
Damn.
And then his lips left her throat but only so that he could get her mouth crushed against his instead. Roz barely even felt the softness of the sheets grazing her legs as she was pushed down against the mattress. It was easy to forget where she was when all she wanted was him, and more.
Too easy, really.
His rough palms soothed her shaking thighs with warm strokes. Up, and then down. Up, and then inward. Roz found widening her legs to let him slip in between was second nature. No hesitancy, and no fear.
She thought she would be nervous.
Shouldn’t she be?
It was easy with Naz.
Like breathing.
She expected him to lower to the bed with her, but instead, he went to his knees. Roz sucked in a sharp breath when his mouth ghosted over her navel, and then lower still. His knuckles grazed her inner thighs and sent shivers racing over her skin.
It was only him moving between her thighs from his position kneeling on the floor that sent her racing out of that daze he’d put her in. No one had ever, ever, ever done what she thought he was going to do. And that was enough to make her nervous.
“Wait, what—”
“Shh,” Naz murmured, “there’s a hell of a lot more to fucking than fucking, Roz. You see, if I just wanted to fuck, it’s not going to be good for you at all. At least, not this time around. It’ll be too fucking much, and it’ll hurt. You don’t want that, and neither do I. Right?”
She sucked in a sharp breath when those knuckles of his slid over the line of her panties, and sent shocks jolting through her nerves. “Right.”
His dark gaze lifted to find hers and he echoed, “Right, babe. So, I’m going to make you feel amazing first. Get you feeling high. Because this here …” Two of his fingers slipped under the gusset of her panties, and slid along her center. Soft strokes of his fingers against her clit had her lips falling open, and noises crawling out of her that she hadn’t heard before. “Yeah, this here needs loved, and I’m going to enjoy doing that. It needs to be ready, Roz. And then it’s only going to feel really fucking good. Okay?”
Roz wasn’t even sure how the word slipped past her lips given the fact she felt like she couldn’t take in air, but it still did. “Okay.”
“That’s what I wanna hear.” Naz leaned in, and that teasing mouth of his edged around her center while his fingers played. Those fucking fingers of his were working her into another daze, only this one was sure to end beautifully. “And I want to hear you, Roz. You make the best music with your fingers, but I bet what comes out of your mouth is going to be something else entirely. And I want to hear it.”
Fuck.
His fingers came out of her long enough to pull the panties down her thighs, and then they were right back where she wanted them to be. Along with his mouth, too.
Roz hadn’t been expecting it to feel like that.
Like his mouth was touching every single part of her all at the same time, except it was really only on one part of her. His fingers teased, and his mouth stroked. Tasting, and driving her higher and higher.
“Please,” Roz breathed.
Her shoulders hit the bed, and her back arched high. Fingers tangling into his hair because she needed something to hold onto. She knew what was coming, that orgasm … but it’d never quite felt like that before.
Never so sudden.
Never so strong.
Never so … everywhere.
And when she did finally fall from that high, high place … she wasn’t sure what she had expected. Certainly not for Naz to climb up over her with his legs pinning her to the bed as his hand circled her jaw, and he tilted her head back before his lips came down on hers. All the while, his hand was still working between her thighs. Harder, and faster. Pressing into a spot that had her shaking and whining even as he kissed her with the taste of her sex still on his mouth.
Maybe that was what made her come again.
Her taste on him.
The wildness in his eyes.
His hand holding her down.
Soft, and harsh, and way too much.
It still wasn’t nearly enough.
He had been right, though. More than, even. Once she had finally stopped trembling like a little leaf in the hurricane that was him, she was so fucking ready. It ached between her thighs, but not because she was hurting. Because she needed more. Something else entirely.
So fucking wet, her thighs were slick.
Crazy.
That’s how she felt.
Crazy.
So much so, that she pushed him back to the bed, and straddled him. Under the thin cotton of his boxer-briefs, the hard ridge of his erection pressed against her center when he reached for her again. Soft hands, but a tight hold.
He handled her like she was precious.
Careful, but firm.
His mouth was against hers again, whispering and promising. “It’s all on you, babe. It’s all you.”
It took but a minute for Naz to find a condom in the bedside table, and slide it down his length after pushing his boxer-briefs down before he was back where she wanted him the most. It was only once she had him in her hands, and pressing between her thighs that she finally felt like she could breathe again. There was no pain when she lowered down on him, only an overwhelming sense of fullness as she was filled in a whole new way.
It took a second.
And then two.
His hands on her face, and his mouth on hers. A shuddering exhale dancing across her cheek when he was all there, and she just needed a minute.
She was never going to get this moment back. This one perfect moment. It would never be exactly like this a
gain even if it did only get better.
So, she wanted to feel it.
Remember it.
Naz’s thumb drew a line down Roz’s trembling lips. His gaze drifted over her face, slow and knowing. “Fucking look at you, huh?”
“I don’t know what to—”
“Move,” he murmured. “Don’t fucking ever worry about me. It’s about you, babe.”
Roz watched him through lowered lashes. The clench of his teeth when she shifted her hips, and the way his sounds deepened when she grinded against him. He might not have wanted her to worry about him, but her view was so much better when she did.
This was how she learned.
By sight.
And she liked what she was looking at.
She loved it.
“You make me crazy,” she told him.
“I know.”
EIGHTEEN
“I’m sorry, what?” Cross asked. “I’m going to need you to tell me that again, Nazio.”
Naz stared up at the ceiling and wished it would swallow him whole. He was not the type to make these kinds of fuck-ups, but here he was. And his father was in no way going to let him get away with it like it hadn’t happened at all. Cross just wasn’t the type, and frankly, he knew his son only really learned from his mistakes when he was forced to face them head-on.
This wasn’t quite the same.
He knew why he screwed up, and it wasn’t going to happen again. He really didn’t need his screw-ups pointed out in front of a bunch of other people, but here they were.
“Why did you miss grabbing those racket payments for the Capos?” his father asked. “And the bookie on the west side, too? Why?”
“Busy,” Naz said, offering nothing else.
Quiet murmurings colored the restaurant behind Naz. It wasn’t often he was invited to tribute because, at the moment, he wasn’t a made man. That was the entire purpose of tribute. It wasn’t for every man. It was only for the boss, and his men.
Naz was there because he fucked up for two different Capos in one week. It didn’t matter that he had corrected those errors quickly. The fact remained the same, he’d still done something wrong.
“Naz,” his father said quietly. “Look at me, huh?”
His gaze drifted to his father. It had been far easier to just stare at the wall of the restaurant while Cross scolded him than to look at his father directly. He didn’t find anger in his father’s stare—not that he expected to; Cross wasn’t the type to get angry with his son—but he did find confusion and concern staring back at him.
Maybe a little disappointment.
Shit.
That was just as bad as anger.
If not worse.
“I fucked up,” Naz said, “but I fixed it. It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Cross returned, “but that isn’t what I asked. I asked why. You haven’t given me a proper answer yet, Naz.”
He sighed. “I would rather not—”
“I didn’t ask what you would rather do. I asked what I asked because I said what I said, Nazio. And you’re going to give me an answer because that’s what you do when your boss demands one.”
Yeah, fuck.
Because right now, he was not dealing with his father at all. He was dealing with the Donati boss. A Cosa Nostra Don. It was a delicate line to balance, he thought. He really didn’t know how his father managed it, but Cross did. And he did it well. Plus, it wasn’t often his father had to pull rank on him anyway. Nazio was a good little soldier for famiglia. He knew what he had to do, when to do it, how to fucking do it, and not to ask questions.
He was just …
“I got a little sidetracked,” he muttered.
He was entirely off his game, more like it.
Cross straightened in his chair, and his gaze drifted to the men who were still eating and chatting behind him. Despite the fact their conversation was low, that didn’t mean anything. They were having this conversation here for a purpose. Because those men could hear the conversation, and Cross wanted them to. He wanted his men to know he handled issues when they came up, even if it was his own son who caused the problem.
No doubt, his father couldn’t afford for anyone to think he let shit slide. Not even if it was Nazio who made the shit fucking happen.
It bothered Naz, but not for reasons people probably expected. For one, he hated that he put his father in this position at all. He knew better than to be doing nonsense like this. And for two, because he wasn’t a fuck up. A lot of these men had watched him grow up, and he spent a good portion of his childhood in this very restaurant with his father every single tribute.
Why?
Because he was the principe.
The Donati prince.
He knew better.
And he hated this just as much as his father did.
Cross likely knew it, too.
Not that it would change this whole meeting, or what his father had to do because of Nazio’s mistakes. It wouldn’t. Nazio couldn’t be treated any differently than any other man trying to get his button for the family. He certainly had the privilege of being the son of a boss, but that didn’t extend him very many special allowances at the end of the day.
And Naz didn’t want it to.
“But why?” his father asked again. “Why the distraction? What happened? This isn’t like you at all.”
Roz.
Or … mostly her.
Two weeks had been spent with him trying to get as much time with her as he could. In his bed, and out of it. She was like a hungry little kitten. All claws, and softness waiting for him day after day. It was fucking addictive. Naz hadn’t really considered some of the shit he was letting fall to the wayside because his brain wasn’t the type to fail him in that kind of way. He kept up on everything. Distracted or not.
Apparently, not this time.
“I got caught up in other things,” he offered to his father instead of outing the name of the daughter of the man sitting right beside Cross. Zeke wouldn’t appreciate that, and frankly, Naz hadn’t even had a decent conversation with the man since he started dating Zeke’s daughter. He figured today was not the day Zeke wanted to hear this kind of shit, or have that conversation. It was the respect of the matter. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again, boss.”
Cross’s jaw tightened. A sure sign his father was irritated that he wasn’t getting the answers he wanted from his son. But that was the thing about Naz, and his father knew it all too well.
Twins, right?
They were too alike for their own good.
Naz was stubborn as fuck. A brick wall when it came right down to it. If he didn’t want to say something, not even a gun to his temple was going to make those words come out. That’s just how it worked for him.
His father was the same.
Cross cleared his throat, and straightened a bit in his seat. “Fine, then. Since you know you set us back a bit this week, then you won’t mind picking up the slack for the other Capos’ men who have helped you this week to correct your mistakes. You’re to take on a duty from each of them, and handle it until the wedding, Nazio.”
He blinked, and did the math in his head.
That was ten guys, at least.
And the wedding—his sister’s—was a month and a half away.
Not impossible, as Naz could make anything work if he put his mind to it. Or rather, like in this case, he wasn’t given much of a fucking choice. But that meant he was going to get a hell of a lot less time with Roz, and he really didn’t know how to tell her that. None of this had been her fault. It was his screw up, and he should have remedied it before it got this far.
“Okay,” Naz said.
Cross eyed his son for another few seconds like he was trying to figure something out before he flicked a hand. A silent dismissal if Naz had ever seen one. He knew better than to linger after his father did something like that.
Outside the restaurant, Naz found a comfortable sp
ot leaning against the brick and patted the pockets of his jacket until he found what he wanted. It wasn’t often that he smoked, but sometimes, shit just called for smoke and nicotine.
Today was one of those days.
He’d just lit up the cigarette and took a heavy drag when his father slid in beside him against the brick wall. For a time, Cross said nothing, and allowed Naz his silence and peace while he smoked. He was grateful.
It didn’t last too long.
“You’re distracted by her, aren’t you?” his father asked. “That’s what it is, and what you didn’t want to say. Rosalynn.”
Naz coughed, and took another drag from the smoke before shrugging. “Her father’s sitting right there. What, you want me to discuss private matters about her in public with Zeke sitting right there, or …?”
“No, not particularly.”
“There you go, then.”
Cross shifted a bit in his stance so that his shoulder rested to the brick, and he was staring sideways at his son. “It’s not like you to get overwhelmed with something, Naz.”
“Quite aware, yeah.”
“Tone down the attitude.”
“What do you want me to say? I fixed what I messed up, and I’ll handle the rest like you just told me to do. There’s nothing else to say. It’s done.”
“Mmm,” his father hummed noncommittedly. “I know this is all new to you—love. And like everything that’s new to you, and that fucking brain of yours, you need to throw yourself head first into it so that you know everything there possibly is to know. But here’s a secret for you, Naz. Love isn’t like everything else in life. You never stop learning with love, and that’s part of the beauty of it.”
He glanced over at his father, and wondered how Cross seemed to just know shit when it came to his son without needing to be told. Because fuck him for hitting the nail right on the head.
Cross continued on like Naz wasn’t staring at him as though a second head had sprouted out of his neck. “The woman you fell in love with the first time isn’t going to be the same woman when she’s twenty-five, or thirty-two. She’s going to change, and you’re going to change. There will be more things to learn because that’s what life does to you. So, I know this is hard for you to understand being your nature is just to absorb everything, and run with it … but you can’t learn everything about love. It teaches you on its own time, Naz. You’ll do well to figure that out. Find a balance. It’s the only way you’re going to make this work.”