This Thing of Ours (The Gamblers Spin-off Novel)

by Sarah Curtis

  “I didn’t realize you lived so far away.” Hearing her voice, Fred poked his head through the front seats, and Gabby absentmindedly gave him a scratch behind the ears before telling him to go lay down.

  Marco directed a small smirk her direction. “Yeah, it’s a bit of a shithole neighborhood, but I want to stay close to my nonna. She has a house a few blocks away I can’t get her to move from.”

  He clicked a remote on the visor, and they idled while waiting for the garage door to open.

  She didn’t know much about his family other than what he’d shared with her about his parents and that he had a sister who lived in New York. “So, you see your grandma often?”

  “As often as I can.” He swung into the garage and put the car in park. “My dad might have been a shit while I was growing up, but she always tried to do right by my sister and me.” He unclicked his seat belt and popped the trunk with a button under the dash.

  “She’s your dad’s mom?”

  “Yep.” He got out of the car, and she followed suit, opening the back door and grabbing Fred’s leash before meeting him at the back of the car. She reached for her bag, but he got to it first.

  “Do you have any aunts or uncles?”

  “Not on my dad’s side, and if I do on my mom’s, I don’t know about them.”

  Gabby came from such a large family, she couldn’t imagine any way different, even if she did sometimes take them for granted. It also explained why he took loyalty to his made family so seriously.

  Slamming the trunk, he took her hand and led her to a door that opened into a small enclosed patio between the garage and the condo that was filled with potted plants and a small wooden table and chairs. Setting her bag down, he pushed a button on the wall to close the garage door.

  “Come on. There’s not much to see, but I’ll give you a tour,” he said, dipping to pick her bag back up.

  Gabby unclipped Fred’s leash to let him roam free.

  Marco was right, the place was small, but it felt cozy rather than cramped. They’d come in through the patio sliding door that entered directly into the living room where a sectional couch, coffee table, and entertainment center filled all the available space. To the left, a kitchen could be clearly seen, with a breakfast bar the only thing dividing the room. A set of stairs lead up to a fully visible loft.

  Marco pulled her that direction. “I only have the one bedroom, but I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  Gabby eyed the bed. It was probably the biggest thing in the whole condo. “There’s plenty of room. I don’t mind sharing.”

  “Best not to tempt me, streghetta. Though we’ve known each other a long time, we’re still new. My goal is to not fuck you anytime soon,” he said, tossing her bag on the foot of the bed.

  Well, that was… blunt. And a little—okay, a lot—disappointing. How long was he going to make her wait? She felt as if she’d been waiting a lifetime already.

  “I’m going to grab a quick shower. Make yourself at home. Unpack. Watch TV. If you can’t find the remote, it’s probably stuffed between the cushions of the couch. That’s where I usually find it, at least,” Marco said, sliding open a mirrored door revealing a closet and grabbing a fresh suit and shirt. He tossed everything on the bed next to her bag and headed for the attached bath, stripping off his shirt on the way. She caught sight of his arm before he’d fully closed the door, and she didn’t think twice about opening it and barging into the bathroom.

  He was in the process of undoing his pants, and his head popped up when she entered. “What—”

  She didn’t give him a chance to speak, just grabbed ahold of his wrist and said, “You didn’t tell me you were hurt.”

  A large patch of his forearm was burned, the skin red and angry with a small scattering of blisters at its center.

  He tried to pull his arm away. “It’s fine.”

  She was really growing sick of that word. She also suspected they had vastly different definitions for it. “It’s not fine. I’m not a doctor, but this looks like a third-degree burn. I know I read somewhere if left untreated all sorts of bad things could happen.”

  He turned to face her and brought the hand of his uninjured arm up to cup the side of her face. A small smile pulled at his lips. “Cara mia, I promise, it’s not a third-degree burn. It’s barely a second-degree one.”

  “It looks bad.” And she hated seeing him hurt.

  He shrugged. “It’ll heal, and I’ll be fine.”

  So, his definition of “fine” meant he would live. Good to know for the future.

  Worries eased, she realized how close he was and that she was eye level with his chest. His naked chest. Her eyes drifted over his rock-hard pecs, broad shoulders, and bulging biceps. He was more muscular than he appeared in his suits and every muscle was well defined.

  Her eyes traveled lower, over the ridges of his abs to the open fly of his slacks. The waist rode low on his hips, and the open flaps showcased the outline of his manhood that strained against the tight cotton of his underwear. It twitched and grew larger before her eyes, the tip protruding from the elastic waistband.

  “Streghetta.”

  His thumb found the underside of her chin, applying pressure, and she reluctantly raised it. She was met by a heated gaze. She licked her lips.

  “You don’t play fair.” His voice had an edge she’d never heard before.

  “I didn’t know I was playing.”

  His growl was the only warning she had of his impending impact. Taking a bracing step back, she tightened her hold on his wrist just as his lips crashed down on hers. With no prelude, his tongue invaded her mouth, and the hand cradling her face slid through her hair to the back of her head where he fisted it, tilting her head. Her hand found his back and his muscles flexed and rippled under skin that was smooth and warm to the touch.

  His other hand grabbed her waist, and she let go of his wrist to clutch his shoulder, the width so wide, she could barely get her hand around it.

  His hand didn’t stay planted on her waist long. It roamed up her ribcage stopping only when it landed on her breast, where it squeezed.

  Her back hit the wall, her head protected from the same impact by his hand. He dipped his body lower, never losing contact with her mouth, his fingers playing with her nipple through the layers of fabric that made up her t-shirt and bra.

  She moaned, and he swallowed the sound, replying with a groan that she readily consumed.

  The smoky scent that clung to him ratcheted up her need to get closer, reminding her she was fortunate he was standing before her. Fear and desire mingled, creating a frenzy of emotions that had her clawing at his skin. She wrapped a leg around his waist, drawing him in closer.

  She lost his mouth then as he surged against her, her cheek landing solidly on his chest. He ground himself into her, and she whimpered as her pleasure built.

  “Fuck. You’re gonna make me come.” His words echoed through the bathroom.

  She was close, too, and desperately gripped at his shoulder and back when she felt him try to pull away. Thrusting her pelvis forward, she rubbed herself along his length until, with an uncontrollable shudder, an orgasm rippled through her.

  Barely able to breathe—and not caring one bit—she panted into his chest as Marco stilled against her, his hot breaths hitting the top of her head.

  He kissed her temple, stepping back, and her leg fell to the floor but was totally useless in supporting her.

  “Shit. I didn’t mean for that to happen.” He was out of breath, too.

  She followed the direction of Marco’s eyes and saw the wet spot on her t-shirt just above her navel. She plucked at the cotton, detaching it from her skin, and looked back up at him. His cheeks were red. “Are you blushing?”

  Her question made the blush spread and darken. “It was a juvenile move. My only excuse is that it was you, and it’s been a really long time.”

  “How long is really long?” She had a feeling guys equated a long time withou
t sex the same as in dog years. One month felt like seven.

  “Since your eighteenth birthday.”

  “What?” She barely got the word out, and even then, it came out as a croak. He hadn’t had sex in four years? “Wh… why?”

  He gave her a why do you think look before saying, “Because contrary to what you women cackle about when us men aren’t around, we can keep it in our pants when motivated to do so.”

  “And you were motivated?”

  This time the look he gave her had her heart racing and goose bumps sprouting on her arms. “Very.”

  “And I was your motivation?” She wanted to be one-hundred percent sure. No assuming for this girl.

  “Yes, streghetta.” He traced a thumb over her bottom lip. “That day, when you walked in and saw me with that other—”

  Her hand shot up and covered his lips. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  He wrapped a hand around her wrist, pulling her hand down. “Cara mia, the hurt I saw in your eyes, I never wanted to see it again, and I definitely didn’t want to be the cause of it. So, I swore to myself, I would never give you reason to hurt like that again.”

  “But if I wasn’t around, I wouldn’t have known.”

  “I would have known. I saw you as a woman for the first time that day, and you did something to my heart.”

  Her own heart beating fast, she asked, “What did I do to it?”

  “You stole it.” At her indrawn breath, he continued, “And you’ve had it ever since.”

  Was he saying he loved her?

  It took a few moments for the distant sound of her ringing phone to penetrate her ears. “I better get that. It could be news about Dad.” She opened the bathroom door to grab it from her bag. “But we’re not done with this conversation.”

  “Of course, we’re not,” he said with a smirk.

  She grinned at his tone as she answered the phone. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Your father’s going in for surgery.”

  Thoughts of possible love declarations flew from her head, and she turned startled eyes to Marco before saying, “Is he okay?”

  “The x-ray showed his femur was fractured. They need to go in and fix it.”

  “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

  “We?”

  Gabby looked sheepishly at Marco before saying into the phone, “Marco and I.”

  Her mom was silent a moment before she said, “Guess a lot has happened since the last time we chatted.”

  “I’ll fill you in when we get to the hospital.”

  “We’re at Southside. I’ll meet you in the third-floor surgical waiting room.”

  “Okay. See you soon. Tell Dad I love him and give him a kiss for me.” Gabby hung up and slid the phone back into her purse.

  “Everything all right?”

  She nodded. “Dad has a broken femur and is going in for surgery.”

  “Let me jump in the shower then we’ll go.”

  Gabby looked down at her shirt then back at Marco with a small smirk. “Guess I’d better change.”

  Marco called over his shoulder before closing the bathroom door, “Only if you don’t want to start World War III.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  By the time they’d gotten back to Marco’s place, Gabby could barely keep her eyes open. To say it had been a long day and night would be an understatement. Her run-in with Derek at school felt like days ago rather than just that morning. Add to that the mental and physical highs and lows from the explosion and her dad’s surgery, and it was a wonder she hadn’t crashed hours ago.

  She’d tried to sleep at the hospital—especially when Marco had practically made it an order, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and bringing her head to his chest—but sleep hadn’t come, worry for her dad keeping her awake.

  Nico and Olivia had already been at the hospital by the time Marco and Gabby had arrived. Angelica had been passed around but ended up spending most of her time on her grandma’s lap, and from the look on her mom’s face, she’d taken comfort from her sleeping grandchild being there.

  Between comforting Olivia, Nico had either talked with his men who had popped in and out throughout the night or had been on the phone while pacing outside of the room.

  Marco hadn’t left Gabby’s side the whole night. She’d even asked whether he had something he needed to do, and he’d told her he was doing it. She hadn’t said anything, just snuggled as close as their chairs would allow, but she’d smiled on the inside.

  When the news had come that her dad was out of surgery but wouldn’t be allowed visitors until the following day, everyone, except her mom, had packed up and left. Nico had tried to convince Dona into going with Olivia and him to the hotel, but she wouldn’t leave her husband’s side.

  Stumbling into the condo like a drunken sailor, Gabby couldn’t even find the energy to bend over and pet an excited Fred who yapped at her feet.

  Marco’s hands landed on her hips as he came up behind her and steered her toward the stairs. “Time for you to go to bed.” His lips nuzzled her ear as he spoke sending shivers down her spine.

  Gabby yawned and leaned back, giving Marco most of her weight as they climbed the stairs.

  He grabbed a pillow from the bed and a blanket from the closet.

  “You know, you can share the bed.”

  “Told you I wasn’t fucking you yet.”

  “We don’t have to… you know,” she did a little wave of her hand between them, “we can just sleep. The bed is plenty big enough.”

  “I sleep next to you, I’ll want to fuck you.”

  “Oh. Well, um, just out of curiosity, when do you think we’ll be doing that?”

  “We’ll be doing that,” a small smirk played on his lips, “after I take you out on a few dates.”

  Gabby laughed. “I didn’t take you for a three-date rule kind of guy.”

  Marco shook his head, frowning. “I didn’t know there was such a thing, but if it’s anything like it sounds,” he shrugged, “I guess with you I am.”

  “With me?”

  “Listen. I’m new to this shit, but if there’s some kind of rule, we’re following it. I’ve never been in a relationship, never taken anyone out on a date, and I’ll probably fuck it up, but I want to start out right with you. You’re special. You deserve to be treated that way.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him he was special too, but he stopped her words with a thumb on her lips.

  “Let’s be real. You gotta know you’re getting the short end of the stick.” He tossed the blanket and pillow on the bed and held his hands, palms up, out in front of him. “These hands that you want touching you, they are not clean. They’re covered in the blood of the many men I’ve killed. I want you to take these next few days to think about that.”

  She again opened her mouth to speak, but, yet again, he got there first. “I know I’ve said this once before, but I need you to be perfectly clear on what I’m saying. Once I have you, you’re mine. No turning back. No stopping. I won’t ever let you go so make damn sure I’m who and what you really want.” He grabbed the pillow and blanket off the bed.

  “Marco—”

  “No, cara mia, don’t say anything now. Think about it for a few days and then we’ll talk again.” He leaned down and kissed her lips. “Now, get in bed. Go to sleep. We’ll go on our first date tomorrow night. The sooner we get three of them over with, the sooner I can fuck you.”

  She watched him descend the stairs, call to Fred, then slip out with him onto the patio. Once they were out of sight, she went to her bag and pulled out a t-shirt to sleep in. As she changed in the bathroom and brushed her teeth, she thought about everything Marco had said. She’d walked into their relationship with her eyes wide open, knowing exactly the kind of man he was.

  Sure, she didn’t know all the nitty-gritty details of what The Family did, but she wasn’t naïve. She knew what kind of business they were in, and it wasn’t selling sunshine and rainbows. Oh, she k
new they had their legit businesses they filtered money through, but she also knew for every lawful enterprise, there was at least one illegal one—if not more.

  So, Marco was very wrong in thinking she needed to make a decision. Her decision had been made when she realized he had feelings for her, as well. She just needed to convince him of that fact.

  She had nothing to wear. And though every woman has said that exact phrase at least a hundred times, ninety-nine percent of the time they hadn’t meant it. But Gabby really did. She stared down at the bed, and the clothes she’d brought from home scattered about its surface and sighed.

  “What’s wrong?” Marco asked, materializing at the top of the stairs.

  She turned her head, looking over her shoulder at him. “I don’t have a dress for our date tonight. Or shoes. Or accessories.” She spun on her heel and placed her hands on her hips. “And it doesn’t help you won’t tell me where we’re going.”

  Marco chuckled and came to her, stopping when he got within touching distance. Then he did just that by covering her hands with his. “And as I’ve told you the last three times you’ve asked, I want it to be a surprise.”

  He pulled her forward by the hips, and she stumbled into him. Without the use of her hands, she was at his mercy, and she mumbled into his chest. “Technically I didn’t just ask you again, it was a statement.”

  “Fine, then technically I’m not obligated to answer.”

  “Whatever.” He chuckled again, the sound rumbling through her ear. “It still doesn’t change the fact I have nothing to wear.”

  He pushed her back a little so he could look down at her. “I’ll take you shopping.”

  “You will?” She could’ve reminded him that it was just as easy—if not easier—to stop by her place where she had several dresses to choose from. But what sane woman would do that when a new dress was in their sights?

  “Yep.”

  She inwardly smiled. “Well, in that case, I really should know where we’re going so I know what to buy.”

  Marco gave her a tight smile. “You didn’t actually think I’d fall for that did you?”