by Lisa Cardiff
Without even thinking, my fist found his face again. One. Two. Three times. Blood splattered the floor. The metallic scent hung in the air, fogging my brain. I was like a shark in a feeding frenzy, only stopping when I heard the floor creak behind me.
I whirled around, blood coating my knuckles. “Mila, what the fuck are you doing in here?”
Her eyes shifted to Sal on the floor, grunting and whimpering like a pussy. “The car will be here in an hour. I thought we could talk before I leave.”
The fight drained out of me. Considering the crap the Rossis had pulled last year, my sister didn’t need to witness any more violence. “Meet me in the kitchen. I need to clean up.”
Mila’s lips contorted, and I knew there were a hundred things she wanted to say to me. In the end, she turned and left. She’d been in my life long enough to know better than to interfere. It wouldn’t end well.
I stared at Sal for a beat, then shook my head. “I think we understand each other now.”
He glared instead of responding. I burst out laughing. He looked like a giamope with his swollen eyes and bloodied face.
I smacked him on the shoulder. “Right, good talk, buddy. Now pack up your shit and Johnny will escort you out of here.” I spat on the floor. “If I ever see your face again, it’ll be too soon.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Emilia
Unable to sleep, I crawled out of my bed when I heard Mila and Marcello moving around in the living room. I wanted to say goodbye to Mila anyway. I didn’t know when I’d see her again. If everything worked out between Marcello and me, hopefully it wouldn’t be long.
I threw on an oversized sweatshirt that hit me mid-thigh and headed down the hall. When I rounded the corner, Mila and Marcello were talking in hushed voices.
“You have to fix this before it comes out.” Mila brows were scrunched together, her voice low and barely decipherable. “She won’t like this. You know it, and I know it. Don’t fuck this up again.”
“Back off.” Marcello’s hand sliced through air. “I have everything under control, Mila.”
“This will bite you in the ass. Does she know? Did you even bother to clue her in?”
I leaned forward, and the hardwood floor popped, drawing Marcello’s attention to me. Caught spying, I smiled awkwardly. “Hey. Sorry to interrupt. I…um…wanted to say goodbye.”
They both stood still, their faces blank. Indecision and awkwardness rippled through me. My stomach clenched with regret. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped on them. I already knew nothing good came from spying. When I spied on Lettie and Sal all those years ago, I had torn my whole life apart and destroyed Gavin’s life in the process.
Mila broke the tension by smiling. She strode across the room, wrapping me in a tight hug. “I’m gonna miss you. I know we didn’t spend much time together, but, well…” She released me and shrugged, a smile dancing on her ruby red lips. “I’m rooting for the two of you.”
“Madone, Mila, mind your own business.”
She rolled her eyes and flipped Marcello off. “Turnabout is fair play. You always have your nose so far in my business I wouldn’t be surprised if it was rubbed raw.”
“I’ll stop interfering when you learn how to run your life without steppin’ in piles of shit all of the time.”
Mila burst out laughing, and I couldn’t stop myself from following her lead. “Whatever. You like cleaning up my messes. I mean, what would you do all day? You’d be bored out of your mind.”
“I’d get some work done.”
“Uh huh.”
A car horn invaded the room. “That would be my ride.”
Marcello pulled her into a quick hug. “Call me when you land.”
“Got it.” Mila took two steps, then ran back and gave me another hug. “No matter what happens, don’t give up on my brother. He does dumb shit sometimes, thinking he’s protecting the people in his life, but—”
“Mila, shut up.”
She shook her head and kept talking. “And he’s really hard to read, but trust me, he cares about you. Maybe he even loves you. I don’t know. He’s not one to share his feelings. He’s worth it, though. Even when he’s annoying me with his overprotectiveness and stoic silence, I know he does it because he cares. That counts for something, ya know?”
I smiled weakly, trying to read between the lines because I knew without a doubt there were messages hidden in her words. I wanted to follow her outside and drill her for more information.
The car horn blared again, this time a little longer, broadcasting the driver’s impatience. I didn’t blame him. Who the heck wanted to be up this early? I should be in bed sleeping away the day while my body recovered from all of the alcohol I had ingested in the last two days.
“Let’s go before Johnny drags his rude ass in here.” Marcello picked up Mila bags, and they were out the door before I had the chance to say anything.
Ten minutes and one cup of coffee later, Marcello returned, determination mixed with mischievousness on his face.
“Let’s go back to bed.”
“But it’s morning and I already drank my coffee.” I lifted the mostly empty mug. “I have to call Brandon and talk about—”
“You can deal with him another day. Today we have to make up for lost time.” Before I could process his words, Marcello jerked me flush against his hard chest. With the palm of one hand, he cradled the back of my neck and guided my mouth exactly where he wanted it, his lips colliding with mine. Ownership and possession transmitted in every stroke, brush, and tease. The shock of his mouth moving against mine scattered like dandelion seeds in the wind when he licked my lips, demanding me to give in to him. To us.
His tongue plunged inside the moment I opened to him. Groaning, he slanted his head to the side, deepening the kiss. The smoky sound zipped around us, sending a hum of desire straight to my core.
Gentle and tender weren’t on the menu. He gripped a handful of my ass, urging me closer. I tightened my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs around his hips. The coffee mug slipped from my fingers, shattering on the hardwood floor. I buried my hands into the thick waves of his hair, then traced the bulge of his shoulders and firmness of his chest, desperate to relearn every inch of him.
My back slammed against the log-paneled kitchen wall. Unbidden, a moan climbed up the walls of my throat, passing through our linked mouths like a current of electricity.
Marcello rolled his hips, his thick erection rubbing against my panties. Pleasure built through too many layers of clothing, wrenching me in a direction I wouldn’t have dreamed possible when we were both mostly clothed. He orchestrated each of his movements like a symphony conductor. I couldn’t concentrate on anything except my own release.
With my heaving breasts crushed against his chest, my pulse raged out of control. I glanced to the side, and the sunlight caught something on the table. My heart tripped when I realized it was the sapphire ring Sal tried to give me last night, and my muscles tensed for a whole different reason.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Wait,” I said, breaking our kiss. My fingers tangled feebly in the front of his wrinkled shirt. “Where’s Sal? Is he gone?”
A devil-like chuckle tumbled from his swollen lips. “Don’t worry. He won’t be bothering you again.”
I blinked multiple times, trying to gain some composure and willing my body to ignore the throbbing in each one of my extremities. I didn’t want a repeat of last night with Sal barging in, demanding who the hell knew what. “But—”
He pressed a finger to my lips. “We’re not talking about him right now.”
“What if…I don’t know…I don’t want him to…”
Not listening to my rambling, Marcello carried me to my room, thankfully one I never shared with Gavin. No memories were there to haunt me. The shades were still drawn, and tiny slivers of light peeked around the edges, spilling onto the hardwood floor.
“Just tell me what happened with Sal. I need to know,” I dema
nded as he set me on the bed and tugged my sweatshirt over my head.
“He’s gone and he won’t be coming back anytime soon. That’s all that’s important.”
I tugged the bottom of my sweatshirt out of his grasp. “Un-fucking-believable.”
“What’s unbelievable?”
“Men, but you in particular. Why is it that every man in my life thinks I need to be kept in the dark? Am I really that pathetic?”
Marcello studied me through the shadows for an instant before averting his stare, and I swore I saw the flash of his overly bright smile.
Damn him for being so cavalier.
“I’m sorry. I don’t recall saying anything funny.” I didn’t attempt to disguise the bite of sarcasm in my voice. How did he manage to make me go from lust to anger in less than sixty seconds with nothing more than a stupid smirk?
“You’re cute when you get flustered.”
“Flustered?” Ugh. Seriously? “And cute?” What a bastard. I had a strong aversion to being called cute. All of my life I was cute. Carmela was the sexy cousin with all of her curves and sultry smile. When I was younger, I wondered at what age my body would blossom into something resembling hers. We were blood, after all. It never happened.
I was so pissed I jumped to my feet and rammed my shoulder into him as I passed. Given that he was a good foot taller me and likely twice my weight, he didn’t even budge an inch. I, on the other hand, stumbled sideways. Marcello snaked an arm around my waist and kissed me, not accepting no for an answer.
Like the idiot I was, I opened my mouth and let him in. My rebellious body was too intrigued to reject him. I tasted warmth, coffee, and best of all, him. Within seconds, my body sagged against him, silently begging him for every kiss, touch, and stroke he granted me. He stole my breath, my will, and my common sense. Because who was I kidding? I had always been his. Even when I pretended to be Sal’s or Gavin’s, every cell in my body belonged to him. It was as though he had embedded himself into my DNA or something.
He pulled my sweatshirt over my head, and this time I didn’t object. He picked up where he left off, kissing me, devouring me, and tattooing every inch of my skin with his name. His fingers speared my hair, tugging on the short ends, and right then, I missed my long hair, wanting him to wrap it around his fist and claim me.
Without missing a beat, he kicked off his shoes, pulled his shirt over his head, and unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor. My breath stalled inside my chest. He really was a striking man.
Slowly, he brushed his fingers along the top of my panties, from the plain elastic band, over my mound, and along the lacy edge between my legs. Just that simple touch and I was already panting and ready to shatter.
“Please. I need you.” I hardly recognized the frenzied strain in my voice. I tugged at his navy boxer briefs, desperate for him to be inside of me again.
“No.” He swatted my hand away and guided me onto the bed. “Let’s take it slow this time. There’s no rush. Nowhere we need to be. No one waiting at the door.” His finger slipped inside my panties, pressing against my clit.
He lowered to his knees, positioning his head between my thighs, and yanked me closer to him. So close that I felt the warm press of his damp mouth against me. The flimsy barrier of silk covering me did nothing to dampen the feeling. I pulled in a weighted breath, stilling myself for his next move, and I didn’t have to wait long. He moved my panties to the side, and his tongue circled my clit in light, measured strokes. My hips jerk almost involuntarily.
“No more teasing,” I half mumbled, half whimpered.
He answered me with a chuckle that shot knee-weakening vibrations through me. He pulled his head back, gazing at me with a look I could only describe as passionate devotion. He slid my panties down my legs, then coaxed me to widen them again before diving back in. His mouth was so warm, so confident.
Every moment, every feeling, every fear, disintegrated into nothing. Groans, moans, and incomprehensible sounds escaped my parted lips. Madone, he knew what he was doing. My thighs shook. My eyes watered. My insides pulsed.
He slid one finger, and then two, inside of me, while his mouth continued circling. The sensation was mind-blowing. My hips pumped up and down, chasing the pleasure skittering centimeters out of my reach. Then I was hit with a fierce, tumbling spasm that had me pinning my eyelids closed and Marcello’s name falling from my lips like a divine blessing.
His eyes were sleepy and lust-clouded. His sooty eyelashes splashed barbed shadows on his razor-like cheekbones as he climbed up my body. He halted for a moment with his erection positioned at my entrance. I raised my body and rubbed against his cock, urging him to continue. On a groan, he pushed inside, scarcely an inch. Still a little sore from the last time, I dug my nails in his shoulders, and he slid all the way in.
“Emilia, you’re mine,” he murmured, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear. The sensation coupled with the deep timbre of his voice sent goose bumps down my arms. He buried his mouth in the crook of my neck and bit me, marking me as his. My spine arched with desire.
Mine.
After all of the back and forth, running and hiding, I wanted nothing more than to be his.
He popped open the clasp at the front of my bra, sliding the straps down my arms with feather-like touches that left me fevered and wild for him. For more. I couldn’t count the number of times I dreamed about Marcello touching me, me touching him without reservation, doubt, or worry. Now that was a reality, and I couldn’t get enough.
“Please,” I begged, desperate for more contact, more friction.
“I’ve got you, baby.”
He rotated his hips in restrained circles, brushing my clit expertly. Taunting hints of pleasure buzzed through me. The bed creaked with every undulation of his body. I rotated my face against his arm, burying my cheek against the rigid muscle of his bicep. I trembled violently, nearly coming out of my skin when he pulled me closer and sucked one nipple into his mouth, then switched to the other. He whispered how good I felt. How beautiful I looked. How he wouldn’t let me go this time. It was excruciating and amazing at the same time.
Finally, when I wondered if I’d die of want, he picked up speed, moving faster and harder over and over. His hands clutched my hips, burrowing into my skin like he planned to fuse us into one. Like I’d float away if he didn’t stop me. My breaths were his breaths. My heart hammered in tune with his. My eyes locked with his. With our bodies joined in every way possible, I gasped and writhed, flying higher and higher until his face contorted with pleasure as my inner muscles detonated around him in delirium. I bit down on my lower lip to muffle the scream ripping from my throat, and I was a goner.
My whole body slackened. His forehead rested on mine, strands of hair sticking up at all angles. His ocean-colored eyes stared into mine, scooping up my secrets and stealing my affection. He gently pulled out of me, and the evidence of our lovemaking leaked down my thighs. I knew I wasn’t being smart about this or him. I wasn’t on birth control. I didn’t know his history, but I knew deep in my gut Marcello would never do anything to hurt me. Even when I had convinced myself I hated him and wanted Sal, I knew he wouldn’t hurt my soul or my body.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Marcello
My phone buzzed on the nightstand for the fourth time in the last twenty minutes. I glanced at the caller and sighed, an angry wave of heat rolling through me. I’d ignored the real world long enough, and I was damn lucky everything hadn’t burned to the ground in my absence.
I kissed Emilia’s forehead and got out of bed. “I need to take this call.”
“No, not yet.” Emilia pulled the sheets to her neck, a soft smile on her face. Guilt sliced through me. We had been through too much to fuck it up now, which was exactly why I needed to take this call. “This is our last day here. Let’s stay in bed as long as possible.”
“I won’t be long.” I dressed quickly, snatching my gun and phone from the nightsta
nd.
“You promise?”
“I promise.
I stepped out of the house and hiked a good hundred yards away from the front porch. I didn’t want to risk Emilia or anyone else eavesdropping on my conversation. I jabbed my finger against the screen, waiting for him to answer.
“Rossi,” I barked, the name sour on my tongue.
“I’ve been hearing lots of fucked-up rumors lately,” he said, not bothering with the pretense of polite conversation. It suited me just fine. I had little patience for this guy and his family. Even less now that Emilia was back in my life.
“I don’t read minds. You’re gonna have to be more specific.” Just because I knew exactly where he was going with this didn’t mean I wanted to come right out and say it.
“I heard you’re off with that Trassato woman again.”
Frustrated, my nose flared, and I scraped my knuckles along my jaw. “You have someone clocking me, old man?”
“Eh, until the deal’s done, I’m gonna make it my business to know what you’re up to.”
Fuck this prick. I was so sick of him thinking he could tell me what to do just because he had a few years on me. “Yeah, well, back the fuck off, and stop fuckin’ lighting up my phone. I’m busy.”
The line went absolutely silent, and for a second I thought he had hung up. I needed to hurry up and unwind my deal with him. I wouldn’t live my life with this cafone looking over my shoulder.
“So is it true? Are you negotiating with the Trassatos again? Because you only have one hand to offer, not two. You better not fuck us over.”
I wanted nothing more than to tell him I wanted out. I didn’t care if I had to go to war again, but I couldn’t deal with the fallout while I was in another state. It was my job to make sure the Masciantonios came out unscathed, and burning the truce down over the phone wouldn’t get me anywhere.
“Rossi,” I growled, “mind your own fuckin’ business.”