by Sam Mariano
Mia sits up, sighing and pushing up off the lounger. “I’ll be your next victim.”
“Oh, good,” Meg says, plucking another cherry and putting it in a second glass. “Do I have to compliment you, or will you just patronize my free bar because you’re my friend?”
“I’ll take pity on you,” Mia tells her, accepting the beverage. “You don’t even have to offer to lick my abs.”
“I only touched Vince’s abs. I’m saving the tongue for Mateo.”
Mia grimaces. “Ah, gross. Gross, gross, gross.”
Vince smirks, winking at Meg over Mia’s head to let her know he appreciated that.
Mia shudders at the mental image of Meg licking Mateo’s abs, abandoning the bar and heading back to the lounger beside me.
“Come on, Francesca,” she says, flashing me a cheerful look. “You’re up.”
“Nope, I’m good,” I tell her, closing my eyes to really sell how relaxed I am.
“You look like a goddess sunbathing over there. That long dark hair is seriously ridiculous. Salvatore is one lucky man.”
I wish that lucky man would hurry up and finish his conversation so he could join me out here. I was looking forward to spending the day with him, and he’s spent the whole afternoon in with my brother. Mateo’s probably managed to win Sal over like he does everyone else. They’re drinking cognac in the study, relaxed with air conditioning while we all sweat out here by the pool.
“Oh, thank god,” Meg suddenly says, then I hear what I assume is a kiss. I tilt my head back and see Mateo has finally come outside, and with him, Adrian and Sal.
Excitement courses through me and I rise from the lounger, going over to greet my man.
“There’s the Morelli I wanted to see,” Sal comments, smiling as his gaze drifts down my body, lingering on the tiny triangles of fabric gingerly held together by little turquoise strings. It’s hard to enjoy being checked out by my sexy fiancé while Meg tries to suck Mateo’s face off right next to him, though. I grimace at her before turning my attention to the much lovelier sight of Salvatore. He’s still dressed in jeans and a light blue, short-sleeved button down that he wore to his mom’s. I’m kind of glad he hasn’t shucked his clothing in favor of pool wear like I suggested; I’m not nearly as cool as Mia with Meg hitting on my man, even if only for the sake of doling out poolside beverages.
Once she stops kissing him, Meg pulls back and flashes Mateo a pretty pout. “Nobody wants my pink ladies.”
He rolls his eyes. “I can’t imagine why.”
“What’s so wrong with the name? God, Morellis are the worst.” Turning her attention to Sal, she says, “Hey, kung pao friend. Would you like a pink lady?”
“Nope.”
Meg rolls her eyes, turning her attention to Adrian. Unlike Sal in his semi-casual outfit, and Mateo, dressed to the nines as usual, Adrian is dressed for the pool in a T-shirt and long swim trunks. He doesn’t swim, but Elise is in a bikini top and a colorful wrap, so presumably she’s going to try to convince him to. Since he adores her, he probably will. “Adrian. Adrian Palmetto. Can I say how much I love you dressed down? You in a T-shirt—”
Elise interrupts, stepping in front of Adrian to grab two glasses. She raises an eyebrow at Meg. “No.”
“But—”
Elise shakes her head again, stepping back to hand Adrian his drink and loop her free arm around his waist. “Nope.”
“You’re no fun.”
“Adrian thinks I’m plenty of fun,” Elise says, not even subtly suggestive.
Adrian has a shit-eating grin on his face right now. It’s adorable.
“We need to find Alec a fun girl,” Meg announces.
Alec isn’t even here. He’s probably out with some fun girl right now, actually enjoying her since he doesn’t bring any of them onto the Morelli radar.
“I think you’re enough fun for the whole family,” Mateo states, picking up one of her drinks, frowning at it, then putting it right back down.
“Oh, come on,” Meg says.
“Nope. That looks like something sorority girls drink.”
Mia holds hers up in the air and shakes it, as if to prove his point. “They’re actually really good.”
Mateo nods, smirking. “Like I said.”
“I’m not in a sorority,” Mia replies, tilting her head to look back at him.
It’s enough to win his attention. He abandons Meg by the bar to approach Mia’s lounger. He makes absolutely no attempt at subtlety as his dark eyes rake over her body, scantily clad in a tiny pale blue bikini.
Vince’s humor understandably evaporates. Sal leans in to kiss the side of my face, but really it’s just so he can whisper, “Goddamn.”
“I know,” I murmur back. His arms wind around me from behind and I sigh happily, leaning back into him, still watching the show.
Since Mateo is still standing there looking her over, Mia takes a sip of her drink and meets his gaze. “You’re blocking my sun.”
A slow smile claims his lips. “My apologies.”
“You look incredibly sorry,” she says lightly, leaning over to put her drink down—and give him a nice view of her cleavage.
He’s gonna ruin the pool party, isn’t he?
I glance back at Meg. Her back is to Mia and Mateo as she scrolls through a playlist on her phone, looking for some mood music. I glance at Vince next. He’s sulking at a table in the corner, glaring at Mateo’s back.
Sal is in my ear again. “Do we have seats, or should we bail before Vince pushes Mateo into the pool?”
“He won’t, he’ll just pound pink ladies and take it out on Mia.”
“Your family, man.”
I nod, securing my hands on the arms he still has wrapped around me. “They’ll be yours now by marriage. Aren’t you psyched?”
“Is it too late to back out?” he jokes.
“Hell yes it is,” I shoot back. “No returns, no exceptions. You should’ve read the terms of service.”
“You know I’m just kidding. I’d tolerate these nutjobs every day if it’s the only way I got to have you.”
I turn my head and lean back to give him a little kiss. “I love you.”
My attention is pulled back out of our little moment when I hear Mia suddenly saying, “What are you doing? No, no, no. Mateo, put me down.”
I’m a little floored to see Mateo has picked Mia up bridal style and approached the edge of the walkway by the pool. It only lasts a moment before he tosses her in. Then he stands there smirking as Mia comes up out of the water like an angry, drenched kitten.
“What the hell, Mateo!”
“You looked hot,” he says lightly.
She bobs in the water, then pulls her hair over her shoulder and wrings it out as she glares up at him. I can’t tell if she’s flushed because of the double entendre he just delivered, or because she’s so annoyed at being thrown in the pool. “You’re an asshole.”
Hands shoved into the pockets of his dress pants, he shrugs nonchalantly. “Not like it’s the first time I’ve made you wet.”
That one can’t be ignored. Mia’s jaw drops as fast as mine does.
Mateo winks at her and turns around, looking directly at Vince for several seconds before heading back inside the house the way he came.
We’re all a little stunned. It’s not that Mateo would never flirt with or reference fucking Mia in front of people, but doing so in front of both Vince and Meg was certainly unexpected.
Time stands still for a horribly awkward moment, then Vince finally stands and storms away from the pool.
Mia mutters, “Fuck,” as she swims over to the ladder and climbs out, then follows after Vince. She catches up to him and tries to put a hand on his shoulder, but he swats it away and keeps on walking.
Sal and I both look at Meg, since she’s the only one left to respond.
Laughing a little, she flashes a semi-apologetic smile and says, “He’s a rascal, isn’t he?”
---
&nb
sp; “Harder.”
Sal’s grip on my hips tightens and he pulls me into his next thrust.
My head falls back toward the mirror of my bathroom vanity. I groan and pant in alternating intervals while also trying to hold onto the sink so I don’t fall off while he fucks me.
Sink sex is not my first choice, but the delicious friction of Sal’s cock moving inside me makes it worth it. With each powerful thrust, his perfect cock drives me closer and closer to falling off the sink, but also toward blissful satisfaction.
“I really like this bikini,” he informs me, his gaze drifting to my breasts. They bounce in time with his thrusts, and he shakes his head like I’m just too sexy to handle.
“I really like your cock,” I toss back.
“Sweet Jesus,” he says, leaning in to kiss me even as he brings his hips forward, giving me every inch of him. I grind my pussy against him, wrapping my arms around his neck and deepening the kiss myself. He pauses, lifting me off the sink, and switches positions, backing me up against the wall. There’s nothing to hold onto so I don’t try, but I don’t have to, because Sal is plenty strong enough to hold me as he slams his cock up inside me.
I throw my head back, then curl into his shoulder as his purposeful, rapid thrusts drive me over the edge. My pussy contracts around him as I hold on for dear life, my body milking the orgasm right out of his.
He lets me down gently, pulling me against his chest, but leaning against the wall for support while he recovers.
I nestle into him, tucking my head under his chin and leave a trail of lazy kisses across his chest while my heart slows down.
After a minute, I tell him, “We can go to my bed now.”
Nodding against the wall, he murmurs, “Okay. Let me get my pants.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling. “We could’ve done this in my bed and we’d be cuddle-ready. My brother is not going to watch that, I promise.”
“I’m not taking any chances,” he states, releasing me so he can collect his clothing.
I only have to collect my bikini bottoms. I let him leave the bathroom first so I can pee, then I open the door and allow myself a moment to enjoy the sight of him in my bed. It’s been my bed for so many years, so many of those years spent all alone in it. It makes me happy to see the man I love lying there.
He glances over and sees me watching him, so he smiles slightly. “What?”
“Nothing,” I say innocently, sashaying my hips until I get to the bed. I hop on and crawl up beside him, then I snuggle up against his body. “I can’t wait until we’re in the same bed every single night.”
“You and me both,” he replies, curling an arm around me. “Though, if I’m being honest, Sundays here aren’t so bad. There’s entertainment, food, drinks, sex; we can come every week if you want to.”
I grin up at him. “Bet you never thought you’d want to hang out with the Morellis.”
“What can I say, you’ve corrupted me,” he returns lightly.
“We have a tendency to do that,” I admit, nodding. “At least you’re in good company.”
“I prefer this company,” he tells me, giving me a little squeeze.
“Me too,” I agree, closing my eyes and just resting there with him for a few minutes.
When he yawns, I tilt my head to look up at him. I haven’t been with him every night, so I can’t speak to the nights he’s alone, but from what I’ve seen, he hasn’t been sleeping well. I don’t know if it’s the death of his dad, his mom’s disapproval, or some combination of things, but he’s been extra tired lately.
“How did your visit with your mom go?” I ask, watching his face.
He replies nonchalantly, “Not bad. I don’t think she’s going to come to the dress thing this week, though. Sorry.”
I shrug. “It was a long shot. Just thought I’d offer.”
“I appreciate the effort,” he tells me.
Another minute passes, then I ask, “Were you ever going to tell me that Mateo named Luca?”
A benefit to lying on top of him is that I can feel when he tenses beneath me, so even though he keeps his face clear, I know better. “Sure,” he says, easily. “After I killed him, I would’ve told you.”
“Why wait?” I ask. “You think I’d try to save him?”
“Didn’t want to risk it. Women have a tendency to get weird about that stuff.”
I crack a smile. “Have you murdered a lot of your girlfriends’ ex-lovers?”
“Nope, this’ll be the first.”
“Well, I wouldn’t try to stop you. As long as you’re safe, but I assume you know what you’re doing. He’s a monster; I don’t have a problem with him being put down. I only refrained from telling you because I never thought Mateo would let you do it.”
“To be fair, I wasn’t sure either, but when your brother isn’t being a pain in the ass, he has it in him to be reasonable.”
“He’s very reasonable,” I agree, nodding.
“Aside from trying to make Vince want to murder him,” Sal adds. “That’s not terribly reasonable.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what that was,” I admit.
“I’m not sure if ‘hey, remember when I used to fuck your girlfriend?’ or ‘hey, remember when I used to rape your girlfriend?’ applies, but either way, it was pretty fucked up and a good way to make Vince homicidal.”
“Vince knows better,” I assure him. “Mateo may piss him off, he may even hate him, but Vince knows that Mateo is… to use Mia’s word, ungovernable. He’s the king around here. His word is law. He takes what he wants; he does what he wants—you’ve seen it. We can balk and complain all we want, but that’s it. No one can do anything about it. Ultimately Mateo can treat any of us however he wants to. Makes it more special when he decides to be nice, I guess.”
Sal does not appear to be impressed, but he doesn’t remark upon it. Maybe he would if we were home and had a reasonable expectation of privacy, or maybe he wouldn’t because he doesn’t like to fight with me about my brother.
Whatever his reason, I’m happy to let it drop. “I should probably pick out a dress to wear for dinner.”
“I should probably mentally prepare to keep my mouth shut. I bet it’s gonna be hard.”
“Salvatore Castellanos, defender of women,” I say dramatically.
“I mean, they can’t punish him so they have to blame Mia, right?”
“Most likely,” I verify, nodding. “Mia’s a lot stronger than she looks though, she’ll be fine. She knows the drill.”
“That’s terrible,” he states.
I nod, dropping a kiss on his lips before announcing, “You’re right, you should start mentally preparing now so you can keep quiet at dinner.”
As I roll out of bed and go to my closet, Sal calls out, “Your brother’s an evil dictator.”
I step back into the doorway, peeking around the frame to remind Sal, “An evil dictator who is giving you the opportunity to cross a name off the top of your ever-growing hit list.”
Sal scowls. “Damn. You’re right. I guess he’s not so bad.”
I grin and give Sal a little wink. “There you go. Just drink the Kool-Aid, babe. Just drink the Kool-Aid.”
Chapter Forty Five
Francesca
The dinner routine begins about as well as can be expected. The men take their drinks in the study while the women cook. I don’t know if I want to keep a better eye on Meg and Mia, or Mateo and Vince, but since I determine the latter pairing to be more potentially explosive, I do the pre-dinner drinks.
Mateo is for the most part unaffected, but why wouldn’t he be? Mateo provided the stimulus; Vince is the one being tested.
As any one of us could’ve hypothesized, Vince sits in his wing chair, pissed off at the world and unable to do a damn thing about it. All he can do is radiate anger and drink, so that’s what he does. I try to keep his alcohol consumption in check, but he doesn’t allow it tonight. When I conveniently forget to refill his empty drink
glass for the third time, he gets up and goes to fill it himself.
Mateo’s gaze flickers in Vince’s direction as he does, and I swear I catch him faintly shake his head to himself before turning his attention to his own drink.
I don’t know exactly what Vince’s test was, but I think he’s failing.
After I fill the last glass, I make my way to the kitchen to check on things there. Even though Meg prides herself on her utter lack of jealousy, I can’t help watching her for signs she’d like to rip Mia’s spine out. I don’t find any, though. Meg’s poker face is pretty good. If she’s annoyed, it’s impossible to tell; she looks as cool and content as ever.
Mia doesn’t. Mia has no poker face; she wears her heart in her eyes, and right now those eyes are solemn. Once the men come to the table, anxiety joins the mix. Vince eyes her as he takes his seat at the table, and the look she gives him is guarded at best. Her words about being a little afraid of him come to mind and anxiety gathers in my chest.
On our way back into the kitchen to grab salads, I lightly touch her arm to get her attention. “You good?”
“Mm hmm,” she murmurs, nodding and offering a brief, joyless smile. “All good.”
We grab salads for ourselves and our men and head back to the table. I wasn’t sure we’d make it through salads without someone sniping at someone else, but Vince and Mia are silent while everyone else chats so things remain civil.
By the end of his salad, though, Vince picks up his empty drink glass and shakes it for Mia. “Empty.”
She glances at him, then pushes back her chair and grabs both their plates to clear them. She didn’t get to finish hers, but I don’t think she cares. Clearly she’s uncomfortable. I don’t know if she’s eager to get dinner over so they can leave, or dreading leaving because once they pull out of Mateo’s driveway she’s on her own.
She does give Vince more to drink—even though he certainly doesn’t need it—but she also brings him a glass of ice water. He grins when she puts it down and looks up at her.
“Trying to tell me something, sweetheart?”
“Don’t call me that.” She freezes as soon as the words spill out, like she’s hearing them for the first time with everyone else. Her face flushes and she hesitates, but instead of backpedaling, she simply puts a hand on his shoulder and gives it an apologetic squeeze before sitting down.