There had been a chill in the bedroom, but the rest of the apartment was warm. Beverly was in the kitchen, wearing her white robe open over an old nightshirt. He’d bought her lace and satin, silk, even some leather. And she’d worn it all, beautifully. But she loved her shabby, terrycloth robe and her ridiculous t-shirts.
He’d come to find them sexy.
She looked up and saw him leaning on the hallway wall, watching her, and she smiled brightly. “Good morning! I just put cinnamon rolls in the oven.”
“Cinnamon rolls? How long have you been up?” He crossed the room and came into the kitchen.
“Um…since about three-thirty. I’ve only been baking for about half an hour. I did some thank you cards before that.” Gifts had started coming in more than a week ago. She hadn’t been able to wait to open them. The guestroom in his apartment was stacked with household goods.
“Bella.” He laughed and pulled her away from the sink, where she’d started to rinse her baking dishes. “We have a long day today. You need rest.”
They were getting married in the late afternoon, then a formal dinner and reception. There would be no casual, barefoot reception for his bride, and not only because it was November. He wanted this day celebrated for the wonder it was. Someday, she would be Donna Pagano. Today, she’d be his queen.
“I know. I’m too excited. But I’ll lie down for a little at your mom’s house.”
All the Pagano women and Beverly’s friend Skylar were meeting at his mother’s to get ready. Beverly’s mother had not returned phone calls or replied to her invitation.
Uncle Ben was walking Beverly down the aisle.
Nick was due at Uncle Ben’s, where the Pagano men were gathering. The tradition was to get the groom drunk, but the men would be disappointed in that endeavor today.
Her hair was caught back in a big plastic clip. He took the clip out and tossed it on the counter, then fluffed her waves over her shoulders. “See that you do. I don’t want you falling asleep in your wedding cake tonight. I have plans for you for later.”
“You do? What kind of plans?” She slid her hands up his bare chest, leaving tingling tracers of desire behind. He’d had a mind to fuck his woman when he woke up, and he hadn’t changed that mind.
“Surprise plans. But I’m gonna need you wide awake to appreciate them. So promise me—a nap today.” He kissed her throat, sucking lightly until she moaned and curved into him.
“I promise.”
“Good. How long do those muffins bake?” He lifted her t-shirt and slid his hands over her smooth, warm skin.
“Rolls.”
“Whatever.”
“Forty minutes.” She kissed his chest, running her tongue across his pecs and down to flick back and forth on his left nipple.
With a harsh groan, he pushed his hands into her hair and pulled her head back. “That’s plenty of time. I want you back in bed. I can get you off at least three times before breakfast.”
Her eyes flared wide at that. “I thought you wanted me to be rested.”
“I do. I’m gonna make sure you take that nap later.” He picked her up and carried her back to bed.
~oOo~
Nick sat alone in a room off to the side of the nave at Christ the King. He was still a little buzzed, but not too much. He’d found himself much more amenable to all the toasting from his cousins than he’d expected. He was in a damn fine mood. And now he was waiting, alone.
He’d sent Matty, his best man, out because the asshole was driving him crazy, checking his pockets for the rings every fifteen seconds, like he was paranoid that Nick would slit is throat if he lost them.
Actually, Nick wasn’t so sure that was paranoia. But he hadn’t lost the rings…yet.
Yeah, he might slit his throat if he lost them.
For the last time in his life, he was alone. He closed his eyes and took a breath. Everything would be different. In moments, he would marry. Tonight, he would give his wife a wedding gift. Tomorrow, he would take her to Italy and Greece for their honeymoon. And then, when they came back, their life would be different.
There was a light knock on the door.
“Come.”
His mother opened the door and peeked in. He smiled and stood. “Hi, Ma. You look beautiful.” She really did. She looked elegant and regal. He went over and led her all the way into the room, then kissed her cheek.
She beamed at the compliment and smoothed the skirt of her long gown. “Thank you, Nicky. I just wanted to let you know everybody’s here. We had a little drama with Bev’s dress, but it’s all taken care of.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, caro. We had to take her dress in a just hair at the last minute. She’s lost a little bit of weight since the last fitting. But everything’s fine, and she is a vision to behold. That dress—my word. She looks like Grace Kelly.”
He’d paid for the dress, but he hadn’t yet seen it. Beverly had been adamant that the first time he’d lay eyes on it would be when she was standing at the end of the aisle.
He’d thought she was losing weight again, but she’d been happy and light, and he hadn’t noticed her skipping meals. Then again, she’d been working long hours at the bookshop, and doing planning for a five-hundred-guest wedding in barely more than two months. He hadn’t been with her all that much.
His mother fussed with his tie. “You’re a vision, too. Her handsome prince.”
Seeing her eyes get moist, Nick put his hands on her shoulders. “Ma, don’t.”
She dabbed at her eyes. “I’m your mother, Nicolo Pagano. If I want to cry at your wedding, I will. I want to say something right now, and I know I’m going to cry, and you’re just going to have to deal with that.” She took his hands in hers. Her wedding and engagement rings glittered on her left hand. His parents had had a complicated, volatile marriage with a lot of heartbreak and pain. But they had loved each other fiercely, even through the worst of it.
“I’m so proud of you, Nicky. You know that?”
“I do. Thank you.”
She shook her head. “It’s not a compliment. It’s the truth. You are such a good son. You saved me. From the day you were born, you saved me. You’ve always saved me.” Letting go of one of his hands, she cupped his cheek. “You were strong when I wasn’t. You were strong for me and for your father. You’ve been strong for us since you were too young to be.” Her tears topped over.
He pulled his face away. “Ma, no. Stop.”
“Today, I want you to remember. I loved your father since I was a girl. I love him still. And he loved me. But I don’t want you to be a husband like he was. I want you to be a good husband like you’ve been a good son. I don’t want you to bring your business home. I don’t want you to let pain poison love. Treasure her, Nicky.”
He was angry and offended. He’d lived most of his life with the mission to take what was good about his father and learn from the bad. To be a better man. And he certainly would be a better husband. He didn’t need his mother to tell him to treasure his wife.
But she was crying and trying not to smear her makeup. He was her only surviving child, though she’d wanted a big family, and now she lived alone in a big house. And she had borne the weight of his father’s weaknesses.
It was his wedding day. Instead of telling her off, he hugged her. “I will, Ma. I already do. I’ll treasure her until I die. And I’ll always take care of you.”
~oOo~
“Where are we going? Did you book us a suite somewhere?” Beverly sat at his side in the limousine, her enormous white skirt covering his legs and the entirety of the seat. His mother had been right—she did look like Grace Kelly. Her lace bodice and this gigantic, embroidered satin skirt glittered in the passing streetlights. Hundreds of little crystals were sewn into the embroidery.
Her hair was done up in a wide bun, circled by a crown, and his mother’s sapphire and diamond earrings sparkled from her lobes. She was indeed his queen, and her wedding had been
fit for her.
“A suite? Something like that.”
“You’re just not going to tell me, are you?”
“Nope. Maybe you need a lesson on the word ‘surprise.’”
She laid her head on his shoulder. The little crown dug in, though, to his shoulder and apparently her head. She sat back up straight. “I’m so ready to get out of all this stuff.”
“You’re beautiful, though. Just spectacular.”
She grinned and plucked at her skirt, making the crystals twinkle. “It really is pretty, isn’t it?”
“The dress is lovely. But I can’t wait to get you out of it. You’re the vision. You glow.”
“It took three people to get me into this thing. There are buttons everywhere. I’m not sure you’re up to the task.”
“Sounds like a challenge.”
“Are you up for it?”
“I am.” He pulled her hand to his crotch and showed her.
The limo stopped. Beverly peered through the windows. “Where are we? Not a hotel.”
“No, not a hotel.” The driver opened the door, and Nick stepped out, then turned around and held his hand out for her. She took it and, after some negotiation with the miles of satin and lace she was wearing, got out and stood at his side.
She looked up, her forehead creased. “Okay. Is it still a surprise? Because I don’t get it.”
They were parked on the circular drive of a large, two-story, shake-shingle house at the top of a hill. It wasn’t Greenback Hill, but it wasn’t far from it. The back of the house faced the ocean. The beach was at the bottom of a fairly steep rise of sand and beach grass—all the sea sounds, the sea view, but none of the beachgoers to invade privacy. But Beverly didn’t know all that yet. Right now, they were looking up at the front of the house. All the lights were on.
“It’s empty.”
“Mostly, yes.”
She scanned the front of the property and then saw the real estate broker’s sign. “Oh, my God. Did you buy this?”
“No. I rented it for the night. I wouldn’t buy a house you hadn’t seen and agreed to. But I think you’ll like this one, so all the papers are ready, and the seller has already agreed to my price. If you like it, it’ll be ready for us when we get back from our trip.”
“My God.” She turned that fantastic smile on him. “You’re amazing.”
“So are you, bella. So are you.”
Then she frowned again. “Wait. We’re spending our wedding night in an empty house? That’s…I don’t know.”
The driver had their bag in his hand, and Nick waved him up and took it from him, then sent him on his way. They’d have no more need of him tonight. “Not exactly empty. Come see.” He took her hand and led her to the door.
Once inside, he ushered her forward. “We can poke around to your heart’s content in the morning. Right now, follow me.”
He led her up to the second floor and down to the end of the hallway, her dress swishing and rustling all the way. Then he opened the door to the master suite.
And then, feeling an old-fashioned romantic impulse, he swept her up and carried her through. Her elated laugh at that heated his blood.
The suite was furnished with a king-size, four-poster bed, dressed in luxurious linens, a linen-covered table laden with snacks and drinks, and a bathroom ready for bathing or anything else one could think of to do in a tub and a shower, both built for two.
“All the amenities of a fine hotel, but perfect privacy.”
He set her down and watched her take it all in, her mouth open, its corners turned up in pleasure. She spun in place, making her confection of a skirt puff up even more. “This is…this is so beautiful and perfect I don’t know what to say. It’s so romantic!”
He caught her hands. “I want you to feel the way you feel right now every day of your life. Ti amo, Signora Pagano.”
She shook his hands from hers and threw her arms around his neck. “I love you! I love you! I love you! Now get me out of this dress!”
Laughing, feeling content and complete, he did her bidding.
~oOo~
There were, indeed, a lot of buttons, long lines of them at her wrists and all the way down the length of her spine. Tiny satin buttons. But what was underneath was brilliant.
First, there was a full underskirt that seemed to be made of about a hundred layers of netting. It cinched at her waist with lacing. He untied it slowly and lifted her out of the mountain of fabric that was her dress and that skirt. He carried her to the bed and laid her down. She smiled sexily up at him and stretched, arching until her breasts came up out of her corset.
The corset was ornate lace, strapless and stopping just at her hips. Below, she wore a matching lace thong and a garter belt holding shimmery stockings on her beautiful legs. He trailed his hand down the center of the corset—it was tight and stiff, but there were no hooks. It laced up the back.
“Roll over.”
Her grin stretched to brilliance, and she rolled onto her belly. Nick stripped down to his tuxedo pants, kicking his shoes off, tossing his clothes carelessly away, and then climbed onto the high bed and straddled her.
He bent over and kissed her back, just above the line of stiff lace below her shoulder blades. When he licked the same spot lightly, she purred. Then he sat up and undid the bow at the bottom. Working slowly, making each movement languorous and sensual, he eased the narrow, satin lacing completely out and then tossed it to the floor at the side of the bed. Beverly had pillowed her head on her crossed arms, so the unbound corset fell open at her sides.
Her back was striped with dark red lines. “Oh, bella. It hurt you.” He brushed his fingers down one red mark, and she took a deep, sharp breath.
She lifted her head and looked at him over her shoulder, her smile bright. “Not hurt. Uncomfortable. I think Sky might have been feeling a little jealous when she tightened it. But I had great posture all day.”
He pulled the corset out from under her and added it to the discards on the bedroom floor. And then, feeling an urge even stronger than the urge to fuck her, he soothed her sore skin. Sitting astride her hips, holding his weight in his legs, he caressed and massaged her back until the red marks were gone. Every now and then, he’d lean forward and kiss a shoulder or nibble on her ear. By the time he was satisfied that the pain in her back was gone, she was moaning and writhing between his legs, and her hands had come out from under her head to clutch fistfuls of the down pillows.
He eased his body down her legs, leaving a line of kisses down her spine as he went, until he was standing at the foot of the bed. She was still wearing her dainty, shimmery shoes, and he slid each one slowly off its foot, letting his thumb trace her arch as the shoe came off. At the head of the bed, Beverly moaned.
“Nick…” she breathed.
“Shhh, bella. I’m taking my time tonight. I want to revel in you.” He dropped her second shoe and climbed back up to straddle her legs again. Now he slid his fingers under the garter strap down the center of each thigh and popped it open. She gasped. He did the same at the straps at her sides, then pushed his hands between her and the mattress and opened the last.
“Bend your knees up.” She did, and he slid the stockings off her beautiful legs. Before he tossed the silky wisps away, he pulled them through his hands. He would have loved to be able to bind her arms to this bed with her wedding stockings. Blindfold her and excite her to screaming. He had only begun to show her such delights when she’d been attacked. She had responded energetically.
She’d probably never be able to enjoy that again. He tossed the stockings away and shut those thoughts from his mind. This night was for bliss, not regret.
He pushed his fingers under the lace of her garter belt, catching the thong as well, and eased both over her hips and down her legs. Again, he stood at the foot of the bed. Now she was naked. This time, he shed the last of his clothes.
Before he got back onto the bed, he wrapped his hands around her feet and massa
ged gently, then began to move up her legs. Circling his thumbs over her skin, feeling the silky texture under his fingers, loving the way her muscles moved under his touch as she writhed and moaned, Nick had no impulse whatsoever to be forceful. He felt overrun with love and need, and yet his usual urge to roughness had given way to this.
“Nick, please.” Beverly lifted her hips as he reached the tops of her thighs. With a chuckle, he bent and kissed each round globe of her wonderful ass.
“Hush. Feel.” He kept on with his journey, easing his hands over her ass, up her sides, across her back, following the path with gentle kisses and light nips. He eased her arms down to her sides, linking their fingers when his hands arrived at hers.
Deep (The Pagano Family Book 4) Page 31