“No one,” Alessia shot back in a hissed whisper. “Giada invites herself. Why does it matter to you anyway? It’s not like you’re planning some memorable bonding experience this afternoon.”
“It matters because she and both those sisters of hers never shut up. Growing up in their house had to have been like living in an aviary.”
Alessia rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t all that annoyed. It was just our dynamic.
She was the good girl who followed every rule, and I was the rulebreaker who failed to see the point. We were born on opposite ends of the spectrum, dissimilar in every way. She spread honey, hoping to win people over; I doused them in vinegar, praying they’d stay away.
I wouldn’t say I was friends with either of my sisters, but if there was any tenuous relationship with one, it would be Sofia. I saw pieces of myself in her. She was quieter, more calculating. Until recently, I had assumed she was a rule follower, too, but it seemed we were even more alike than I’d realized.
My littlest sister had a taste for the darker parts of life.
I welcomed her into the shadows.
Together, the four of us were a motley crew. Three mismatched sisters and a mother who could have walked off the set of Real Housewives of New Jersey.
Buckle your seatbelts Kleinfeld Bridal, the Genovese women are about to put you to the test.
“Oh my gawwwwd! This is so freaking exciting!” Giada dropped her small suitcase of a purse and plopped down on the kidney-shaped sofa beside Alessia. “Have I missed anything? Who’s going first?”
Yeah, you missed your invitation. Oh wait, you didn’t get one.
“You haven’t missed anything,” Mom said, perched on the edge of her seat. “Our appointment isn’t for ten more minutes; the girl who’ll be helping us is finishing up with someone else.”
“Perfect! There are two things we need to discuss before we get started. First, Maria. What. The. Fuck? Since when did you start dating Matteo De Luca?”
Giada and my sisters all turned to me with expectant looks. I did my best deer-in-the-headlights impression before glaring at my mother for help, but she just shrugged.
“Actually, it was kind of a whirlwind romance.”
Sofia’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t comment.
“That’s crazy!” Giada continued. “I know you keep to yourself, but I felt like we would have known if you were close to getting engaged to someone.”
I grinned at her mischievously. “Trust me, G. People don’t know anything about me unless I want them to know.”
She rolled her eyes and thankfully moved on. “Next on the agenda—my birthday is coming up, and I was hoping to do a girls’ trip. Now that we have two weddings on the calendar, I was thinking we could kill a whole flock of birds with one stone and do a Vegas birthday/bachelorette party! You three with me, Camilla, and Val—sorry Auntie Lotta, no moms allowed.” She turned from Mom and flashed a beaming smile at the rest of us. “What do you say?”
Oh, hell no.
“I’m totally in,” said Alessia; at the same time, Sofia chirped, “absolutely!”
As one, they all turned to me, eyes round with excitement and pleading.
“Oh, I don’t think so. My wedding is coming up soon—there’s hardly any time for a trip. You guys go. You’ll have a better time without me anyway.” I tried to flee faster than a cat in a bath.
“Maria Genovese.” Sofia’s voice lashed at my heels. “We have never, not once, done something as three adult sisters. Now things are changing, and we may not get many more opportunities. You’re going to do this for me, if for no other reason. Understood?”
Well, fuck.
This was a no-win situation. Say no, and I would be forever known as the bottom cheerleader who let the pyramid fall. Say yes, and I was in for a long weekend of estrogen overload. If I did the math, saying yes yielded a short-term punishment with the offset of lots of alcohol. Saying no would put me on their eternal shit list, without any naked men or alcohol.
“Fine.” I waved my hand in the air, signifying my surrender.
All four women, my mother included, threw their hands in the air and whooped with joy, just in time for our bridal attendant to arrive with a tray full of bubbling champagne.
Perfect. It was looking more and more like alcohol was going to be the only way I’d survive this debacle.
“Hey ladies! My name is Stephanie. Sorry for the delay, but I’m all yours now. I hear we have two brides in the family?” She was cotton candy and jelly beans all rolled into one, and I may have thrown up a little in my mouth.
I raised my hand. “Champagne.”
“This must be one of our lucky ladies,” she sang as she brought over the tray of liquid tranquilizer. “What’s your name, honey?”
It’s certainly not Honey. “Maria.” My lips were a thin line of protest.
“Well, Maria, how about we get started with you? Tell me a little about what style you’re looking for.”
“First, my wedding is in a month, so I need whatever can be ready to wear in that time. Second, I don’t care about the style, so long as it’s not white.”
“Ohhhh,” she cooed with exaggerated worry. “A month isn’t much time, but we’ll see what we can do. Were you thinking of a cream then? Or perhaps a pastel pink? We had a gorgeous Vera Wang that came in just yesterday—”
“Red,” I cut her off, saying the first color that came to mind. Cream was just another version of white, and I’d sooner wear nothing at all than pastel pink. “What do you have in red?”
Five pairs of eyes gawked at me while Giada threw her head back and cackled.
“Okay,” Stephanie recovered. “Actually, that makes our limited timeframe a bit easier. We can look at our evening wear collection.”
For the next hour, I scoured the racks and tried on dresses while Sofia did the same. If I liked a dress, my mom insisted it was too casual for such an important wedding. I refused to even try on anything she liked for fear I’d be smothered by beads and chiffon.
When I saw the dress, I knew immediately it was the one.
The full satin skirt—much fuller than I thought I would have wanted—was a rich crimson, savory and luxurious. A strip of the satin belted around my small waist, and the bodice front was artfully adorned with a light amount of beading trailing down from the scalloped neckline. My favorite part, however, was the back. Crimson mesh coated the full length of my arms, attaching at the nape of my neck. Below that, the mesh was cutaway in a gaping circle, exposing the entirety of my back down to the satin belt. The gown was sophisticated and elegant, totally non-traditional, and utterly perfect.
When I stepped from the dressing room, the chatter of conversation ceased.
Sofia absently stepped from the raised platform in front of the mirrors, relinquishing the spotlight with parted lips. “Oh, Maria.” Her words were a breathy benediction, an ode to the incredible gown.
“I had thought red might be too scandalous,” admitted my mother in an awed tone, “but that’s the one. It’s absolutely stunning, and it’s you.”
I swished the skirt from side to side, taking in its lavish movement and admiring the dress from different angles in the bright boutique lighting.
“Soooo, are we going to say yes to the dress?” Stephanie asked excitedly, dousing the moment in a spray of Kool-Aid flavored gasoline.
I glanced over my shoulder at her, attempting not to glare. “Yes, Stephanie, we’re saying yes to the dress.”
Sweet baby Jesus, thank God that’s over with.
We spent another hour helping Sofia search for something she liked. Being the creative type, she was a bit more particular and was unable to commit to anything just yet. I sipped on champagne and steered my mother away from the topic of grandkids … on multiple occasions. Giada was entirely focused on planning our girls’ trip, spending most of the time on her phone and asking questions like whether we wanted a butler and if a private pool was important.
My
mother suggested we finished our outing with dinner. Normally, I would have made my excuses and bowed out of a second round of family time, but I didn’t. The afternoon hadn’t been totally unpleasant, and after several glasses of champagne, I found myself suggesting a restaurant nearby. I felt a twinge of guilt when my mother’s eyes lit like a child at Christmas. The thing about not participating in family functions is you’re not around to see the disappointment.
I made a mental note, if at all possible, to make more of an effort.
Pick out a wedding dress, and all of a sudden, I’m a goddamn Girl Scout.
I shook my head and sighed just as my phone buzzed with a text.
I’m coming to your place this evening. Well, well, Matteo was being downright civil by announcing his plans. Next thing you know, he’d be asking instead of telling—then, what would the world come to?
Why? I asked in reply. It was no longer my birthday, and we weren’t exactly friends. Was he expecting to get laid? Because I could save him a trip.
We have a matter to discuss. Interesting. Something requiring more than a text or phone conversation. Knowing men, it was entirely possible the excuse was a ruse to get me naked, but I didn’t think that was Matteo’s style. He wasn’t the type to need tricks in order to sleep with a woman.
I’m about to have dinner with my sisters. Dinner was suddenly looking better and better.
I’ll be at your place at nine.
What if we aren’t done?
No excuses, Maria. I could hear the words in my head spoken in his gravelly voice. Just the memory of his commanding tenor sent a shiver skittering down my spine.
I fought against authority every chance I had, outside of my Lucciano superiors, but there was something undeniably sexy about a man who could wield power. The kind of man who was unwaveringly confident in his abilities because he was just that good. A man who would be worth the sacrifice of surrender.
Too bad Matteo was a Gallo.
No matter how sexy he was or how competently he commanded those around him, he would never be worthy of me.
***
I arrived at my apartment at nine o’clock sharp and found Matteo waiting for me outside my door. I’d had two martinis with dinner, and on top of the champagne, even food hadn’t been enough to counteract the alcohol. I wasn’t about to stumble in front of any trucks, but I was far more affected than I would have preferred.
It was my own fault.
I’d known I would see him. I’d known how important it was to be in possession of all my faculties in his presence, but I’d indulged in the drinks anyway. I had told myself it was my reward for spending a day with my family, but that wasn’t the truth of it. Deep down, in the darkest part of me that I refused to acknowledge, I wanted to drop my defenses.
All my life I’d kept the world at gunpoint.
It was exhausting.
The ease of letting go was shamefully alluring. He was my enemy. Of all people, he was the last person I should entrust with my protection. And yet … that’s exactly what I’d done. Handed myself over in a state of intoxication, unable to fully defend myself.
It was time to see if Matteo De Luca would keep me afloat or use those capable hands to hold me under.
He leaned his muscled frame against the wall in a statement of casual indifference, but his eyes betrayed him. Even with alcohol clouding my vision, I could still see the ruthless storm that raged in his oceanic gaze. A majestic tidal wave of temper and domination, looking to break on my rocky shores.
He would annihilate me.
Batter my jagged defenses until he’d smoothed all my hard edges and whittled me away to my foundations.
He pretended to be a simple passing storm in the distance, but I knew the devastation he could wreak. I could feel it, not just in my bones, but in my core where fissures of lust uncoiled and warmed me from the inside out.
I wanted to launch myself at him.
To kiss him. To kill him.
To end the debilitating torture of the unknown.
I wanted to experience whatever it was Matteo had to offer, and I hated myself for it. Unfortunately for me, my own self-loathing wasn’t enough to keep me from inviting the lion inside my den. Without a word, I unlocked my door, feeling his stealthy presence stalk behind me.
Chapter 8
Matteo
She was two minutes from being late.
I was almost glad she hadn’t been there when I arrived. It gave me the opportunity to witness her unguarded response when the elevator doors opened. Not that there was much reaction to witness. You had to be keenly observant to pick up on the slight flare of her nostrils. The flash of hunger that lit her eyes. The swell of her chest on a shaky breath.
There was an energy between us that flared to life when we shared the same space. It pulsed and crackled, surging each time our bodies drew nearer. In the empty hallway, our silence spoke far louder than any words could have. It echoed with temptation. Whispered sweet seduction.
Take me.
Touch me.
Own me.
I had to fist my hands in my pockets to keep from pressing her against the wall and shoving myself deep inside her. Those shapely legs quivered to wrap around my waist. Her full breasts begged to be squeezed. And her lips. God, her lips. Perfectly plump for sucking. Everything about her was an aphrodisiac.
She was made for me.
Her chemistry was the perfect complement to mine, drawing us together like a magnet to metal. Call it pheromones or whatever you like, but there was something intangible that bound us together. Something inconceivably strong that had sunk its devilish talons deep inside us.
I’d come to her place with a purpose, or so I’d told myself. That purpose hadn’t been sex, but the second my eyes raked over the soft contours of her body, I could hardly remember my own name, let alone my purpose for being there.
The black wrap dress she wore accented all her luscious curves, a simple tie holding the outfit in place. It practically demanded I yank the thin piece of fabric and expose the exquisite package underneath. I didn’t care how long it had taken her to do her hair and makeup; I wanted to make her filthy. Release her upswept hair and fuck her until the long strands bunched with tangles. Smudge those red lips with her fuck-me lipstick. Give her so many orgasms she cried black mascara tears.
My gut twisted with desire, blood rushing south, until nothing was left for brain function. I was dangerously turned on. My desire for her was lethal, but I wasn’t sure which of us was most in danger.
This was one big fucking mistake.
She left the door open in invitation but didn’t look back. I was faced with a moment of demarcation. A before and after. If I walked through that door, our trajectory would alter irrevocably. From enemies allied by a strategic marriage to … what? Something dark and consuming. Something that tasted like obsession.
I was a fucking idiot for thinking I could delve into her psyche and resurface unscathed.
Idiot or not, I followed her inside.
She tossed her small purse on the counter, turning to lean her hip against the black granite. “I found a dress.” Her voice was liquid sex, raw and carnal. “Surprisingly enough, I think you’ll approve.” Her lips twisted with a wry grin, and the hint of a giggle escaped.
I closed the distance between us, narrowing my eyes. “You’ve been drinking.”
Her eyes shone with the telltale glassiness of intoxication.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I hadn’t thought she could get any more tempting, but Maria loose with alcohol was more than I could bear. A bolt of lust burst down my belly and ricocheted into my cock, making it swell to the point of pain.
If she thought a little alcohol in her bloodstream was going to deter me, she was sorely mistaken.
“I’m not trashed, just a little tipsy. I had to do something to get me through the hours and hours of gossip and giggling and girlie shit. And it’s not even over. Now, I have to spend a whole weeken
d with them, but at least we’ll be in Vegas, so it won’t be totally awful.” She rolled her eyes and started to turn away, but I caged her with an arm on either side of her and pressed my throbbing erection against her core.
She gasped in a breath, drawing my eyes to her lips. Her perfectly parted lips.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I desperately tried to remain focused.
She was distracting me with words, and it was pissing me off. The only thing I wanted to hear was her screaming my name as her pussy milked my cock dry.
“Bachelorette weekend. Giada’s organizing it—I think she said we leave in two weeks. I don’t know. I didn’t really listen.” Her gaze had been concentrated on my chest where her nimble fingers toyed with the buttons on my shirt. Laying her hands flat against my chest, she peered back up at me coyly. “Vegas isn’t so bad, lots to see … and do. Last big fling before the wedding and all.”
She had a death wish.
That was the only reason I could come up with for why she would intentionally antagonize me. We didn’t know each other well enough for me to know if she was joking or if she actually planned to fuck some random stranger in Vegas.
The possibility made me rabid with anger.
Flames licked at the sides of my face.
My teeth ached from the pressure to crack.
Somewhere in her alcohol-induced haze, she registered the change in my mood. The pulse point in her neck surged to a fluttering beat, and her pupils dilated from the sudden awareness of the danger she was in. She was a butterfly trapped in the confines of my fist, unable to see her way out.
“Was that some kind of joke? You think it’s funny to tease me about fucking other men?” My voice wasn’t just guttural, it was positively feral.
Maria’s eyes blinked rapidly in a fight for sobriety. “I wasn’t … I don’t know what I was doing. But what does it matter? It’s not like we’re in love.”
That was it. With just a few simple words, she pressed the trigger and detonated my temper.
I spun her around, gripping her arms with bruising strength, but only for a second. With the instinct of a well-trained fighter, she dropped her legs out from beneath her, tumbling me forward. When my grip loosened, she yanked away and did a forward roll, snatching the comb from her hair the second she righted herself in a defensive stance. It was wicked sharp on one end, designed intentionally to be more than a mere hair accessory. Her wavy hair cascaded around her face, almost black in the dim light of her apartment.
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