Nothing Else But You

by Elle Wright

  Gio was surprised his father had shared that with him, and he was so relieved he’d felt his lungs relax. He’d had visions of Walter Randall bleeding out in a prison shower after being shivved on Gio’s father’s orders.

  He gave his father a chin lift.

  “Your mother and I are taking both your sisters to visit family in Sicily. We leave on Wednesday. I’ll be gone for a week. Your mother and Aurora will be there for the summer, and Sofia will be staying. She will be attending school in Vittoria and living with your mother’s cousins Enzo and Valentina. They have a daughter, Mia, who is about the same age as Sofia.”

  Yesterday, Sofia would have fought this relocation plan tooth and nail. Yeah, she went to an all-girls Catholic high school here, but she hadn’t lived under lock and key the way the nuns’ schools were in Sicily. Today, no way Sofia wanted to face anyone she knew for a long, long time, especially gossipy, bitchy high school girls. This was better.

  “Good idea.”

  His father actually chuckled. “So glad you approve.”

  Gio shot a side-glance at the old man, who was trying to hide his smile.

  “Until we leave, you stay with her. She trusts you.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  His father clapped him on the shoulder and Gio had nearly fallen over. Not from the impact, but from the gesture. Since Gio’s eighth birthday, when he’d learned who his father really was, and his father had learned that Gio knew, all his father’s affectionate displays had been curtailed to handshakes and the occasional shoulder squeeze.

  “While I wished you would have come to me, I understand why you didn’t. You’re good to her, and Aurora. I’m glad of that.”

  Parallel universe much? That was as close to a ringing endorsement as Gio had ever gotten from his father. They turned back toward the house and didn’t say another word about any of it.

  Gio had slept in Sofia’s bed on top of the covers every night until she left for Sicily. He’d cooked her breakfast and made her eat it. They’d laid out by the pool, swam a little, and he’d had food brought poolside so he could be there to make sure she ate lunch. At night, they had pizza and watched all the Die Hard movies in the pool house.

  Neither of them had commented on the extra security. They knew who the men were and why they were there. Sofia seemed comforted by their presence.

  Gio rode with his family to a private hangar at Logan Airport, where his father, mother, and sisters, plus four of the men who had been guarding their home for the past few days, got on a private jet. Gio had shaken his father’s hand, hugged his mother really hard, kissed Aurora on the cheek, and told her to wear sunscreen.

  When everyone but Sofia got on the plane, Gio dropped his head and shut his eyes for a brief moment.

  “You are the best,” she whispered while tears ran down her lovely face.

  “You’re better.”

  They hugged until she stopped crying, then he tucked her wispy light brown hair behind her ear and kissed her on one cheek, then the other, and back to the first cheek. “I love you with everything I am.”

  “I know. It’s why I’m going to make it.”

  She got on the plane and Gio waited until the door shut and the stairs were pulled away before he got into the car.

  On the way home, Gio sat in the back of the blacked-out SUV with Tony Garibaldi and they talked about the Red Sox’s chances this year.

  The next day, Gio read texts from his friends but didn’t answer any of them, tried to sleep, and succeeded for about four hours. On Friday, he drove down to Brown to clear out his room. Howie was there. Gio figured his roomie had waited for him.

  “She okay?”

  “Physically, yeah. It’ll take her a while to get level again.”

  “No doubt. You need anything?”

  “Nah. But thanks, man. Really. I’m going pack up and head back home.”

  “Got plans for the summer?”

  “I do. I’m heading out west.”

  “Good deal. Enjoy, bro.”

  They hugged and Howie held on a little longer than he had to before he turned and walked out. Then Gio heard some clunking and stuck his head out of his room to see Howie carrying Vanessa out of the quad and into the hall. Some shit defied description.

  Gio had planned to ring the airline Saturday morning to change his flight.

  Then Ace had called.

  6:05 p.m.

  Logan Airport

  Mirabelle

  The flight had landed on time, and they’d taxied off the runway with no problem. Then they stopped and were at a complete standstill for ten minutes until the gate was ready. Whatever that meant. Sitting quietly and waiting patiently took more control than Mirabelle had. Now she understood what the word overwrought felt like.

  As strange as it sounded, the closer they got to Boston – yep, she’d tracked their progress on that stupid fucking little screen with the cartoon airplane – the more her body hummed. Vibrated. Sang. It knew what it wanted. Needed. Gio Di Caro. All of him lying up against all of her without a fiber between them.

  The moment the plane came to a stop, the click of seatbelts unfastening in anticipation of the “ding” that signaled the mass rise-and grab-your-bags-from-the overhead-compartments-without-killing-other-passengers made her want to scream at everyone to stay in their seats so she could pull out her backpack from below the seat in front of her, swing it up on her shoulder, and charge down the aisle unimpeded.

  Yeah, yeah. And Tinker Bell was waiting to touch her wand to Mirabelle’s head so she could fly through the terminal right into Gio’s arms.

  Officially, Mirabelle had lost her mind somewhere over Pennsylvania.

  Finally, when she hit the gangway and caught a whiff of real air, her blood seemed to settle back into her arteries and veins. Onward to the bathroom. Nature called, as did a finger-comb, re-banding her ponytail, and pulling it through the back of her BoSox cap. Then a touch of lip gloss. Vanity demanded minor primping.

  Moving through the herd that made its way to the terminal exit, she had to keep it together enough so she wouldn’t break into a mad dash. One of the be-cool lectures she kept playing in her head was why she’d made this trip – the shooting, his sister, and what she knew was his shattered heart.

  This would not be a throw-herself-into-his-arms-and-kiss-the-ever-loving-shit-out-of-him greeting. She had to be chill and follow his lead.

  As she rounded the corner to the down escalator, she hoped she’d see him before he saw her. She wanted a moment to bask in all things Gio. To do a little girly gushing before she had to put all that emotion back into its box and be as close to a normal, compassionate human being as she could manage while she was standing in front of the man who owned her soul.

  6:25 p.m.

  Logan Airport

  Gio

  The moment he saw her, the pacing, standing, cursing, waiting, waiting, waiting, faded away. It’d all been worth it.

  He looked up when she stepped onto the escalator and held his breath as it crept down to his level. Holy fuck. She was a goddess. Tall. C-u-r-v-y. What a rack. Lush, bitable lips. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he knew they were fantastic. He would have thought her exquisite no matter what she looked like because she was his girl. Ace. The one person who knew him and liked him for who he really was. But this? This magnificent specimen walking toward him was a goddamn gift. And she was his.

  “Gio,” she breathed his name in that husky voice he’d memorized.

  “Yeah, baby.” He took her hands, so soft, her fingers so long, no rings, not a one, and brought them to his lips. He pressed his mouth against her skin and inhaled. Everything that had been rolling around inside his stomach, his brain, his heart, settled. “How’d you know it was me?”

  “Long story. I’ll tell you when we get where we’re going. ’Kay?”

  “Yeah.” He tugged lightly, bringing her body next to his, and took her backpack and put it over his right shoulder as he draped his left arm over her
shoulders. God, they fit. Perfectly.

  She smelled amazing. No perfume. No flowery shampoo. Earthy. With a hint of lemon. She wrapped her arm around his waist, hooked her thumb through a belt loop, and stuck her fingers into the back pocket of his jeans.

  Somehow, his feet knew where they were going and guided them to the parking lot, then the row where his car was parked.

  He didn’t want to let go of her.

  They stood, her leaning against the passenger door, him leaning against her, and he pushed up the brim of her battered BoSox cap to see her beautiful hazel eyes framed by spikey mascara’d lashes. She looked up at him as if he were the most amazing thing that roamed the earth. Then she smiled and his heart stopped in his chest. A phrase from an old song played in his brain. Nothing compares to you.

  Slowly, he stepped back, beeped open the car, reached behind her – holy hell that ass – and opened the door. He held her elbow as she lowered herself into the seat, closed the door, quickly went around to the driver’s side, opened his door, and tossed the backpack on the ledge behind his seat. After he started the engine, he reached for her hand and placed it on the gearshift, then cupped his hand over hers.

  And drove that way until they got to the Fairmont.

  Fairmont Hotel

  Mirabelle

  She wasn’t in that much of a daze that she didn’t notice the magnificence surrounding her. Gold ceilings. Crystal chandeliers. Marble floors covered by enormous area rugs filled with red, blue, and gold patterns. Marble columns. Silk-covered chairs. And Gio. His fingers twined through hers. Leading her to the elevator. Leaning into her as they rode up. His bright, so bright, amazing blue eyes locked with hers as he pulled off her BoSox cap.

  There were too many things she couldn’t wait to do to him, with him, so she began to sort them into categories based on body location.

  She needed about ten minutes to sift her fingers through his thick, wavy black hair. Jet black. Shiny. A little longer on the top than the sides. One hunk flopped onto his forehead, and periodically, he pushed it back. She was jealous of the motion. She wanted to do that.

  Fifteen minutes to trace her fingers over his cheekbones, down his straight nose, over his thick black brows, smoothing his lids, up and around his ears and those juicy lobes. Back and forth over that wide sinful mouth, and then to dip down into the cleft in his serious chin.

  A half hour to smooth and squeeze those really broad shoulders. Lacrosse had bulked him up just enough to make him buff without pushing him into iron man territory. Then down those arms. His biceps showing off, stretching the black t-shirt that fought to contain them.

  And hoo-boy. That chest. That chest was leaning against her and it was rock solid. And ripped. She’d need about an hour to survey that chest, and those abs.

  She hadn’t heard the elevator notify them they’d reached their floor, but Gio had stood and she looked up at the loss of his body heat. He gave her a lopsided grin and gently tugged her hand to get her to follow him into the hallway. They went to the right and walked silently on plush carpeting to the end of the corridor. Gio touched a card to the door’s panel and they entered the living room of a suite decorated in blue, white, and taupe. The height of understated elegance.

  He dropped her cap and backpack on the sofa and kept going around the entertainment center through French doors that stood open to the bedroom. More blue, white, and taupe, and a bed as wide as a lake waiting for them to muss it up.

  She walked into his arms, pressed herself against his incredible body, looked up, and smiled. He lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. Thudding banged against her eardrums as he did it again, this time lingering before he moved his lips to right below her ear, where he pressed him mouth against her skin and barely touched her with his tongue. Then those lips moved back to hers, brushing a little harder, lingering a little longer before he moved to below her other ear and repeated the tongue touch.

  Mirabelle was vibrating with need and she clung to him, her hands fisted in his t-shirt.

  When he brought his mouth full on hers and ran his tongue along her bottom lip, she sighed and opened for him, and he slid into her for the first time.

  Spicy, warm, strong, his arms wrapped her up as his control slipped and he groaned when her tongue touched his and began to duel as they fought for more of each other. Her breath hitched when his hands came up to the sides of her face to hold her in place as he feasted on her mouth. His fingers speared into her hair and moved to the back of her head where they pushed the band away, loosening her ponytail until her hair fell down her back.

  He fisted one hand in the length of her hair and tilted her head back as his mouth traveled down her neck, his nose pushing her button-down aside as he nibbled and nipped his way down to her collarbone. Licking the sting away, his tongue moved across her throat then back to her mouth.

  She slid her hands beneath his t-shirt and up the thick muscles of his back. Smooth, tight skin, warm and supple beneath her palms, made her want to touch all of him with an urgency she’d never known.

  As if reading her mind, his hands moved off her body to reach over his shoulders. In a swift yank, his shirt was over his head and tossed on the floor. When he moved to come back in, she put up her hand, rested it on his abs, and shook her head. She had some exploring to do, and given the state of her knees, she pushed him so he fell back on the bed. He scooched back, and she climbed over him, straddling him, her core mere inches above the thick bulge straining behind the zipper of his jeans.

  She sat on his thick thighs and leaned forward, running her hands up and down his sculpted torso. He pulled a pillow down the bed and stuffed it beneath his head, his smirk saying, better to see you with, my dear. His olive skin gleamed, and his chest seemed to expand each time her fingers teased through the light smattering of black hair dusting his pecs.

  He watched her with an intensity that in any other setting would have been too much to endure. Scrutiny beyond measure, a mapping of her facial expressions as she enjoyed every inch of him.

  The temperature in the room hadn’t been altered, but her internal thermometer had ratcheted up incrementally, and now she was at boil. Sitting back, she s-l-o-w-l-y unbuttoned her shirt, starting at her wrists, then moving to the bottom, she worked her way up. Gio’s gaze lasered onto her fingers, his breathing syncing with the removal of each button from its hole. When she’d undone the last one, she peeled back the panels, and he gasped as she revealed her lace-covered breasts.

  Smug? Yeah a little. Gifted with Rubenesque DNA, she’d never be a slender woman, but her assets were evident and ample.

  Shrugging off the shirt, she allowed him to take in his fill.

  Bed

  Their suite

  Fairmont Hotel

  Gio

  Slow and measured exited the room, took the elevator to the lobby, and left the building. Gio’s hands fisted in the duvet and he tried to keep the drool from running down his chin. Plush ample breasts called to him from behind a white lacy bra, through which he could see large dark pink nipples. Count to ten. Think about baseball. Fuck it. He raised his torso and placed his arms behind him. He wanted…god, how he wanted to rip that bra off and shove his face between those glorious tits. Instead, he looked up to see her watching him, her eyes dancing. He lifted his chin, and she nodded. Thank you, Jesus.

  He sat up and reached behind her to unhook the bra. This was no small, wispy garment that was more for show than utility. This thing had a job to do ’cause those puppies needed serious containment. He dragged the straps down her arms and made fast work of throwing the thing over his shoulder. Damn. His girl was not shy. She didn’t try to cover up. No, not Ace. She arched her back, thrusting herself into his face.

  Far be it from him to turn down a lady’s invitation.

  He held the weight of each breast in his hands and marveled at how soft they were. And heavy. Moving his face between the pair, he drew in a deep breath and loved the musky scent of her. She’d
been traveling for a while and these fine ta-tas had been contained for all that time.

  Her skin was slightly damp, and he licked her from her stomach up the center of her sternum. Then he moved her breasts together and flattened his tongue, sending it on an excursion from one nipple to the other. His dick was squashed behind his jeans, especially in this position, but he was grateful. Unencumbered, he wouldn’t be able to hold back the come stacking up in his balls.

  Slowly, he ran the tip of his tongue around the rim of her nipple, loving how the bud puckered, as if begging for attention. On it. He grazed his teeth over the nub and bit down just enough to make her squirm. Oh yeah. He was in the pocket and warming up for the main event. Sucking her into his mouth, he couldn’t believe after months of fantasizing about this moment, how much better the reality of it was. His girl was everything.

  He was pulling at her now, and her long fingers were yanking his hair as she began panting while grinding against his thighs. He lay back, taking her with him as his lips traveled up her neck and over her chin to get to her mouth. Kissing her, his hands holding onto her juicy hips, he urged her forward until she was moving the heat of her over his dick. Yeah, he was going to come in his pants and he didn’t give a shit. This was too fucking good to stop.

  Abruptly, she pulled away and scooted off the bed. When he saw she was toeing off her Keds and reaching for the button on her jeans, he leaned over, opened the nightstand drawer, and pulled out a strip of condoms. She stopped what she was doing and gave him a million-dollar smile. Gio had never gotten out of his clothes so quickly.

  When she was naked, she stood beside the bed, letting him look at all the wonderful curves of her body. Her waist tucked in over round hips, and she had a baby Buddha belly. Cute. Sweet. Inviting. His gaze dipped to her sex, which was smooth, naughty, and sexy as fuck. She kept her gaze locked on his as she crawled up the bed until she was over him, then she reached up and tore a packet off the strip, opened it with her teeth, pulled out the condom, and rolled it down his dick, which obligingly stood at attention for her.