The Woman in the Trunk

Home > Romance > The Woman in the Trunk > Page 22
The Woman in the Trunk Page 22

by Jessica Gadziala


  "Well, I mean, it is a little soon to be talking about that, but I like the idea of it. So, what do you think about this one?" I asked, holding up a gray swatch.

  "With those new wood floors?" Celeste asked, brows pinching, giving me a "you know better" look.

  We spent the afternoon poring over the magazines, hemming and hawing swatches and paint colors and wallpaper.

  It was the closest thing to having a mother I had known in a really long time.

  "Hey, what's the matter?" Lorenzo said, coming into the kitchen after having said goodbye to Celeste at the door.

  It wasn't until then that I realized I was blinking back some rogue tears.

  "I just really love your mom," I admitted, giving him a watery smile. "It's nice to sort of... be a part of a family again."

  "There's no 'sort of' about it," he told me, pulling me up onto my feet, dragging me against his chest. "You are a part of this family. And I'm glad you love my mom."

  "She insisted I decorate the house. But, of course, I am going to run it all by you. It's your house."

  "Nope. I don't need to see it. You cover the decorating shit. I cover the making the money and keeping us safe shit."

  "What if I picked a pastel pink for the master bedroom?"

  "Well, we can fuck with the lights off," he decided, giving me a smile before pulling me up for a quick kiss.

  "What did the doctor say?" I asked, having been more worried about his head than he had been. Because, apparently, big, powerful mafia dons didn't worry about pesky things like bullet holes and brain surgery and medically-induced comas.

  "He said the same shit the doctor at the hospital did. I might still get some headaches. He said there was always a chance of issues with attention span or seizures. Don't see any of that shit happening, though. I feel fine. Ready to get back to working out. But he wants me to give it another couple weeks. You know what, though?"

  "What?"

  "He said no running. He didn't say shit about dragging my woman upstairs and fucking her until she can't see straight."

  "Well, then he must think it is perfectly safe to do so," I told him, smiling, mostly because we had already been spending more time with our clothes off than on some days, and he was no worse for the wear.

  "That's what I'm thinking," Lorenzo agreed, swooping low, tossing me over his shoulder, and taking me upstairs.

  Lorenzo - 1 Month

  You'd think it would get old.

  Having a woman in your space all the time.

  But it seemed like with each passing day, I was enjoying seeing her there more and more.

  She usually snuck out of bed right before sunrise—a lifetime of habit from working at the bakery—and went downstairs, turned on the coffee, got something sweet started in the oven. By the time I noticed her familiar weight wasn't on my chest anymore, the house was already filling with scents of warm vanilla, oatmeal, chocolate, apples and cinnamon, whatever combination she was playing around with that day.

  It was chocolate that day, I realized as I stepped down onto the main floor.

  The work was already underway, a small group of men painting the walls in the dining room with Brio perched on the sideboard, legs kicking, cleaning under his nails with an unnecessarily large knife, being as intimidating as he could be without outwardly threatening any average civilians.

  He gave me a head nod as I passed. "That woman, she's got it all, man. You gotta lock that shit down," he told me, shaking his head like it was absurd I hadn't put a ring on Giana's finger a month after officially starting to date.

  What can you say? Brio was a character.

  I made my way into the kitchen, finding Giana poring over a recipe book, her arms perched on the counter, her ass sticking outward in a pair of barely-there silk pajama shorts.

  I didn't even pause to think about it, just walked up behind her, dragging her shorts and panties down, exposing her ass, my hand slipping between her thighs.

  "What are you doing?" she hissed, body tensing. "We can't."

  "This is our house. Sure we can," I told her, fingers plunging into her pussy, making her hips buck.

  "There is a crew of men and Brio in the next room," she told me, trying to sound forceful, but her hips were already rocking against me, begging for more.

  "Then I guess you are going to have to try to be quiet then," I told her, my free hand pulling out my cock as my fingers left her drenched pussy, slipping up to work her clit.

  "Lorenzo we can't," she insisted as my cock slid up her cleft, pressing against her pussy for a short second before plunging inside.

  "And yet we are," I told her, lazily thrusting into her, knowing that if I got too hard or too rough, she would have no control over her reaction. And as much as I was liking the idea of claiming my woman with my men only a couple rooms away, I didn't want anyone hearing what she sounded like when she was begging for my cock. That was just for me to hear. And I did. Frequently. So while I wasn't typically someone for sweet sex, that was what I was giving her this morning, pumping into her tight pussy slowly, taking every inch of her, then rolling my hips at the deepest point, feeling her walls tighten at the sensation, then withdrawing before doing it all over again.

  I thought it would take her longer, but her legs were already starting to shake, her breathing was quick, ragged, her hands were curled into fists on the counter.

  "Lorenzo, I can't..." she started, voice getting louder.

  My hand clamped over her mouth as my hips thrust inward, jerking up, making the orgasm crash through her system, her walls spasming around my cock, milking my orgasm from me as well, leaving me half-folded over her, panting, trying to bring some reason back into my system.

  We hadn't been great about the protection thing, I realized as I slowly pulled out of her, tucking myself away, reaching to pull her panties and shorts back into place, the smell of sex mingling with the chocolate in the room. It wasn't normal for me to not use a condom. In fact, I'd only ever fucked without one once before, when I'd been too young and too stupid to think about consequences. When Santi knocked up his high school girlfriend, though, I smartened up. Never fucked without one. I didn't want to settle down. And that was exactly what I would have to do if I got someone pregnant.

  That said, if Giana happened to skip a cycle, if she came to me with a stick and uncertain eyes? Yeah, I would be good with that.

  It was soon, sure.

  But when you knew, you knew.

  She was the one.

  She was going to take my ring, take my name, take my future.

  I was going to give her safety, give her stability, give her a home and a family and half a dozen babies with her sass and my eyes.

  So it didn't matter if we weren't careful.

  You could be a little reckless when you knew you found the one.

  "If you made me burn the eclairs, I am going to kill you," Giana declared, eyes going wide, rushing toward the stove, grabbing oven mitts as she went.

  "Yeah, boss man," Brio said, casually walking into the room. "I will kill you too. I've been waiting for those for almost an hour now."

  "Hey, do I smell chocolate?" Emilio asked, materializing behind Brio, still disheveled from bed.

  Giana placed the pans on the top of the stove, turning over her shoulder to give me a smile.

  I'd been itching to get the house to ourselves.

  But Giana had told me she liked it like it was, busy, chaotic, full.

  And I guessed I could deal with that.

  Until I could get the house filled with babies, at least.

  Giana - 1 Year

  "I'm going to slice it off in your sleep," I told him, grabbing his hand so hard he winced.

  "Hey, now, you like my cock just as much as I do," he reminded me, reaching to wipe my brow with a damp washcloth.

  "Nope. Never again. I hate it. It did this to me. And now you will have to pay for it," I told him, feeling the contraction finally start to ebb.

  "Hey, how's
it going?" Celeste asked, breezing back into the room, looking like she was going to a runway in her emerald green sundress, instead of helping us welcome her second grandbaby into the world. "Uh oh," she said, grimacing when we both shot her looks. Mine, frustrated. His, worried. "Is she at the point where she is threatening you?" she asked, looking at her son.

  "Yeah."

  "Well, knowing her track record, maybe you should go take a lap. I will sit with her," she said, moving to take Lorenzo's seat as he shot me an uncertain look.

  "More ice," I suggested, knowing he didn't want to leave, didn't want to be useless during all this. It was interesting, I had to admit, to watch such a powerful man look so powerless, knowing he had no control over what was happening to me.

  To that, he nodded, glad for a mission, disappearing out into the hall.

  "It's always funny to see a strong man look so terrified of childbirth, don't you think? Art turned green, passed out, came to, and ran out of the room when I was having Lorenzo. It's not the prettiest affair, I'll admit, but the end result is nothing like you have ever experienced before. Your little boy is going to be worth all of this, I promise," she told me, grabbing my hand, giving it a maternal squeeze.

  "He better be. Because he is going to be the only one. I already told Lorenzo he is getting castrated," I told her, watching as she let out a laugh.

  "You are going to be so in love with him. Nothing else will matter. Not all this pain. Not the recovery from it. Not the sleepless nights coming your way. You are going to be such a good mom, Giana."

  I wished I could have my own mother here with us, saying these things as well, but my heart swelled, and the pain became suddenly more tolerable having Celeste there, knowing she loved me like her own daughter, that it was her who had taken Lorenzo ring shopping the week we found out I was pregnant. Which, admittedly, was very soon after we started dating. She was the one to help me decorate the nursery. She was the one who sat up with me late at night, quelling my fears about childbirth.

  I think I had all but forgotten how important family was until they welcomed me into theirs with open arms.

  "You're right," I agreed, giving her a weak smile. It felt like I had been in labor for years. And, last I asked Lorenzo, it had been fifteen hours since my water broke.

  "Just coming in to check," the nurse declared, giving us a warm smile as she moved in near my legs. "You know what, Mama? I think we are about ready to push. Where did Daddy go?"

  "I'll get him," Celeste said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze before rushing off to find Lorenzo.

  "He is pacing the halls looking very scared," the nurse told me, eyes dancing, likely seeing men like him all the time. "There you are," she said when he rushed in, coming over to the side of the bed, slipping an arm under my back, grabbing my hand. "Are you two kids ready to meet your little boy?" she asked.

  And, God, yes, we were.

  The next part was somehow the hardest and easiest at the same time. The pain was something I could never describe to someone who hadn't experienced it, but our son was making his way into the world.

  All eight pounds and six ounces of him, coming out screaming bloody murder as I collapsed back onto the bed.

  He was placed on my chest just a couple moments later, wrapped in a blanket, all squishy and new.

  Lorenzo scooted onto the side of the bed, wrapping an arm around both of us, protecting us like I knew he would never stop doing.

  Milo Alexander Costa.

  Named after his uncle Emilio.

  His uncle Brio had dibs on the next one.

  Yes, there were going to be more.

  Celeste was right.

  Everything was all but forgotten except this little human being we had created.

  "Lorenzo?"

  "Yeah?" he asked, looking at Milo for another moment, eyes filled with wonder. When he glanced up at me, though, the look was still there.

  "I didn't mean it."

  "Didn't mean what?"

  "I won't cut it off. Because I want a dozen of these," I told him, beaming.

  "Well, I think we can arrange that," he said, reaching up to brush some sweaty hair off my forehead. "I love you, hellcat," he told me, eyes warm.

  I loved him back.

  More than I ever could have anticipated.

  More than I even knew I was capable of.

  "I love you too. Even if you are a sauce hog," I told him, smiling.

  Sure, it wouldn't be all smiles and declarations.

  Wars were starting on the streets.

  Between the families.

  Life would never be easy.

  But it didn't need to be.

  Because we knew we could handle it together.

  Also by Jessica Gadziala

  If you liked this book, check out these other series and titles in the NAVESINK BANK UNIVERSE:

  The Henchmen MC

  Reign

  Cash

  Wolf

  Repo

  Duke

  Renny

  Lazarus

  Pagan

  Cyrus

  Edison

  Reeve

  Sugar

  The Fall of V

  Adler

  Roderick

  Virgin

  Roan

  Camden

  West

  The Savages

  Monster

  Killer

  Savior

  Mallick Brothers

  For A Good Time, Call

  Shane

  Ryan

  Mark

  Eli

  Charlie & Helen: Back to the Beginning

  Investigators

  367 Days

  14 Weeks

  4 Months

  Dark

  Dark Mysteries

  Dark Secrets

  Dark Horse

  Professionals

  The Fixer

  The Ghost

  The Messenger

  The General

  The Babysitter

  The Middle Man

  The Negotiator

  The Client

  Rivers Brothers

  Lift You Up

  Lock You Down

  STANDALONES WITHIN NAVESINK BANK:

  Vigilante

  Grudge Match

  NAVESINK BANK LEGACY SERIES:

  The Rise of Ferryn

  OTHER SERIES AND STANDALONES:

  Stars Landing

  What The Heart Needs

  What The Heart Wants

  What The Heart Finds

  What The Heart Knows

  The Stars Landing Deviant

  What The Heart Learns

  Surrogate

  The Sex Surrogate

  Dr. Chase Hudson

  The Green Series

  Into the Green

  Escape from the Green

  DEBT

  Dissent

  Stuffed: A Thanksgiving Romance

  Unwrapped

  Peace, Love, & Macarons

  A Navesink Bank Christmas

  Don't Come

  Fix It Up

  N.Y.E.

  faire l'amour

  Revenge

  There Better Be Pie

  About the Author

  Jessica Gadziala is a full-time writer, parrot enthusiast, and coffee drinker who has an unhealthy obsession with acquiring houseplants. She enjoys short rides to the book store, sad songs, and cold weather. She lives in New Jersey with her parrots, dogs, and a whole flock of chickens.

  She is very active on Goodreads, Facebook, as well as her personal groups on those sites. Join in. She's friendly.

  Playlist

  Playlist

  "Bad Moon Rising" - Mourning Ritual

  God's Gonna Cut You Down - Marilyn Manson

  "Every Breath You Take" - Chase Holfelder

  "One Way Or Another" - Until The Ribbon Breaks

  "Bury Me Face Down" - grandson

  "Everybody Wants To Rule The World" - Lorde

  "Yo
ur Heart Is As Black As Night" - Melody Gardot

  "The Devil Within" - Digital Daggers

  "Love Is A Bitch"- Two Feet

  "Horns" - Bryce Fox

  "Devil Eyes" - Hippie Savage

  "Hungry Like The Wolf" - Hidden Citizens

  "Wicked Ones" - Dorothy

  "Gun In My Hand" - Dorothy

  "Crazy" - 2WEI

  "Love Is A Battlefield" - Wrongchilde

  "In The End" (Mellen Gi Remix) - Tommee Profitt

  "NFWMB" - Hozier

  Stalk Her!

  Connect with Jessica:

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JessicaGadziala/

  Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/314540025563403/

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13800950.Jessica_Gadziala

  Goodreads Group: https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/177944-jessica-gadziala-books-and-bullsh

  Twitter: @JessicaGadziala

  JessicaGadziala.com

  <3/ Jessica

 

 

 


‹ Prev