by L. D. Davis
The conversation at lunch had bothered me for a little while, because I’d thought they were all purposely excluding me from that conversation about Marco and I sharing a bed, but how stupid was that? They’d been speaking their native tongue, in their own country where their language was dominant, not mine. Probably, in his mind, Sofia or Salina could’ve translated easily for me, and everyone knew that.
“It’s just been a really long day,” I explained. “And I’m out of my element, and it feels strange to be so far from home in a whole different country.”
Mandy kicked a leg up in the air. “My feet is sweepy,” she whined.
I pushed her leg down. “Then go to sleep.”
Instead, she cried.
Marco’s tone was soft but unyielding as he straightened Mandy up and covered her with her blanket. “Shhh, principessa. Non dire più nulla e chiudi gli occhi, piccolina.”
Still whiny, she turned on her side and snuggled into him. His big hand patted her little back as he continued to murmur to her. I watched this with fascination and a warmed heart, because the man was exceptional with her—as well as with the other kids. He was patient and kind but firm when he needed to be. He was going to be such a fucking good dad—he was a fucking good dad, and I swear I was about to cry right then and there just thinking about it. I managed not to break into tears, and Marco managed to get Mandy to sleep in record time.
“The older she gets, the bigger her personality gets,” I whispered and caressed her hair.
Marco sighed solemnly. “She will be a handful in a few years. We should probably leave her here for my mother to deal with.”
I raised my hand for a high five. “Agreed.”
He gave me my high five, but then captured my hand in his. He brought it to his lips and then to his heart and held it there.
“You know, I’ve been where you are now,” he said. “When I first went to America, the only English I knew was from movies. It has been twenty years, and sometimes, I still struggle with your vernacular.”
“I think you do very well.”
The corners of his mouth lifted with amusement. “I am very good at faking it, Tesoro. You seem to get along well with Sofia and Salina.”
“Oh, right. Salina invited me over for brunch tomorrow. Did you have any plans for me?”
“Not really. I did not make any concrete plans with Massimo being sick. We do have the celebration tomorrow, but that will be much later in the day. You want to go?”
He seemed surprised by that, which I could understand. I was surprised by that, too. I was rather prickly and didn’t make friends easily. I didn’t have any, really.
“I do. It figures I start to make friends for the first time in years, and they live halfway around the world.”
“I am happy you are making friends. I will take you to Giovanni’s tomorrow.”
I smiled sleepily, and my eyes began to droop. “Thank you, Marco.”
“Thank you, Lydia.”
“Hmm? For what?”
“For being here with me.” He gently squeezed my hand. “And for giving me another chance. I love you.”
I was too tired to speak anymore, but I felt the smile on my face as his fingers traced the outline of it.
Dinner was a casual, lighter affair in the family’s kitchen, but it was long. We sat around the table nibbling and talking for a couple of hours. I was so ready for bed afterward, but I made sure to help clean up, even with Elena yelling at me the whole time and trying to make me stop. I just smiled at her and kept going. Before we went to the second floor, she kissed the hell out of my cheeks.
Getting the kids down was an adventure I’d rather not repeat. They were all tired from a long, exciting day, which made them cranky. Gavi and Cora argued about silly things while Mandy yelled and swatted at everyone, having no real idea what was going on. I was tired and snappy myself, and beyond irritated that I would soon have another child to fight with at bedtime. All those fuzzy and warm scenes in movies and on TV of parents reading their kid a fairy tale from a big pretty book until the child gently fell asleep were bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. Realistically, the kid rarely fell asleep by the end of the story and just continued to issue more demands. Water, cover them up, uncover them, a toy, a different toy, they had to use the bathroom, and the whole “I don’t know how the toothpaste got out of the tube and all over the sink” conversation.
“Just turn off the lights and leave them,” Marco said, tugging at my hand. “They will settle eventually.”
We turned off the overhead lights, leaving one lone lamp to cast a soft light into the room. Marco led me through the door, down the corridor, and into his old bedroom and closed the door. We sat on the edge of the bed, talking in low murmurs about Massimo, who we had seen before dinner. He’d been asleep, so we’d only stayed for a few minutes. Of course, Celia had tried to intervene.
“Can you stay longer?” she’d asked in Italian.
Marco had pulled me into his side, an arm around my shoulders. “If I were alone, you know I would, but I have Lydia and the children to think about.”
Her eyes had flickered to me, as if she’d just remembered I was there. Then that smile, that sweet, sweet poisonous smile. “Of course.” Her eyes moved back to Marco. “Maybe later you can come.”
I’d almost given myself away and said, “Oh, sweetie, he will, but not with you.” But I’d managed to remain quiet and play dumb, even after he acquiesced with a nod.
“Do you think they’re finally done for the night?” I asked about twenty minutes after we’d abandoned the kids in the other room.
We’d heard voices and little feet running back and forth for several minutes, but now it was silent.
Marco stood and went to the door. He turned a small handle and a lock clicked into place. “I don’t know, but if they are awake, it is fine as long as they don’t bother us.”
My brows rose as he moved to the other door and locked that, too. “Oh? Are we going to be…busy?”
He stopped in front of me, pulled me to my feet, and kissed me hard before issuing a hoarse, one-word answer. “Very.”
He dropped to his knees and removed my brace. Without hesitation, he began to remove my jeans. The button slid through the hole like butter, and the zipper eased down without even the smallest catch. Then his hands were in the waistband, tugging the denim over my hips, my thighs, and my knees. I leaned on his shoulders as I finally stepped out of the jeans. Marco tossed them aside and got up slowly, running his hands up my legs as he went. When he was standing upright in front of me again, he concentrated on unbuttoning my blouse, even though his gaze was fixed on mine. Neither of us said a thing, and all I heard was the light sound of his fingers brushing against the fabric. After the last button was done, he pushed my shirt open and revealed a pale-green bra that matched my pale-green panties.
He finally let his eyes drop to my body and followed his hand as it moved across my chest, over the tops of my breasts, down my side, and across my stomach. Still, no words were spoken when he peeled the blouse off and let it fall to the floor. I stood before him, trembling with excitement. Again, he went to his knees, and while looking up at my face, he slowly began to pull my panties down. We didn’t break eye contact as the lace and silk slipped down my thighs, nor when I stepped out of them. Our eyes remained locked even as he moved forward and stroked his tongue through my center, but I threw my head back with a moan when his mouth closed over my clit and he sucked.
His hands closed over my backside, holding me in place while he dined on me like a decadent meal. My hands were in his hair, holding on for dear life as I rocked against his face. Every time I glanced down to watch him, I found him watching me, like he couldn’t look away if he wanted to. He lifted my bad leg, draped it over his shoulder, opening me more while leaving me to teeter on the other leg. I grabbed onto the tall bedpost and held on as Marco went deeper, groaning as he licked me from my entrance back to my clit. His mouth went back to m
y entrance and he stayed there for a long time, licking, sucking, fucking with his tongue, and drinking me in.
I tried hard to keep my moans low, but I could no longer help myself. Holding on to the back of his head with one hand, grinding and grinding, I cried out as my orgasm slammed into me, nearly knocking me off my feet. If it wasn’t for Marco’s steady hands and body, I would’ve gone down on the bed in a writhing mess. As it was, I stood on one wobbly leg, shaking and whimpering as he continued his ministrations. Finally, he eased my leg off his shoulder, gave me one good last lick, and quickly stood.
When he came in for the kiss, I didn’t hesitate to accept his tongue into my mouth. I could taste myself on him, smell myself on him, and it was erotic as hell, making me moan and hold onto him to kiss him deeper. With little work, he unhooked my bra and slipped it off. That landed on the floor with my panties as he lifted me into his arms. I wrapped my legs around him and tightened my arms around his neck as he moved onto the bed. He lay me down gently, his mouth still on mine. He didn’t stop kissing me then, nor when he quickly lined himself up and entered me in one long stroke.
When he finally broke the kiss, it was so he could put his face in the crook of my neck and speak for the first time in many minutes. “Amore mio. I’ve missed you. Mi manca essere dentro di te. Ti amo così tanto, Tesoro.”
He missed being inside me, and he loved me. I missed him being inside me, too, and I loved him, but I could form no words. All I could do was moan with each stroke of his cock and dig my fingernails into his back and his ass as he fucked me slow and deep.
His mouth came back to mine, our tongues sliding against each other as his thrusts grew deeper and harder. My moans became louder, and as he went harder and faster, I cried out, but his mouth was there to absorb the noise. The vibration of his loud moans against my lips and tongue was the sexiest thing.
I felt his body tense and knew he was about to come. I tore my lips away from his mouth and begged, “Harder, baby. Faster. Harder!”
Marco didn’t disappoint. With a couple quick motions, he put his arms under my legs, nearly folding me in half and nailed me to the bed with his cock. He grunted and moaned with his efforts, and it was so fucking good.
“Come with me, baby,” I chanted. “Come with me.”
I pulled his head down for another kiss and good thing, because he let out a sound then as he began to orgasm. It would have been a roar if not for our kiss. As it was, I felt it down in my own lungs. I went over the edge with him, moaning and squirming under him, unable to control my body as it rose to meet his final thrusts and to take his seed deep within me.
We continued to kiss, even as our breathing slowed, and he softened to his usual semi-hard state inside me. I kissed him until I was too tired to do much of anything anymore. He slipped out of me but didn’t let go. I rolled onto my side, and his arms went around me, holding me close, my back against his chest, our legs entangled, and his breath on my neck. I held on to his arms as tightly as I could, believing I could keep him right there with me through the night.
But when I woke later, just as the dawn of the new day began, I was cold. The whole bed was cold, and I knew I was alone. There was no doubt in my mind that after Marco had basically fucked me to sleep, he’d left. He went to Celia.
Chapter Seven
“Thank you for your help,” I told Sofia a couple hours later.
Her smile was sympathetic. “I am happy to help, Lydia. You were not good.”
Indeed, I was not good. Almost immediately after I’d realized my boyfriend had most likely spent the night comforting his ex-girlfriend, I was sick. It was worse than usual. Sofia had been standing in the short hallway between the two rooms when I’d exited the bathroom after another round of hug-the-toilet, and there was no way I could hide how I felt. I knew I looked like death—pale, pasty, and slightly green. Besides, she’d most likely heard my violent retching.
She’d immediately jumped in to care for the kids. By the time I was able to unfurl myself from the bed again, all three kids were bathed and dressed for the day. Now, I was about to take a shower, and Sofia was about to take the kids downstairs. She’d come by so early in the first place to see if Cora wanted to help with breakfast.
The concern in the girl’s face was sweet. She didn’t know me that well, but she seemed worried. “Will you be okay? Do you need a doctor?”
I waved that off. “I think I’m still adjusting. I really am fine.”
She totally didn’t believe me but didn’t question me, either. After another few minutes, she and the kids left me to my own devices. When I came out of the shower and into the bedroom a little while later, I felt better, though not much better. Nausea remained, but I didn’t feel the need to remain in the bathroom next to the toilet. I just finished getting dressed when the door opened, and Marco strode inside.
His hair was damp, and his clothes looked clean and unwrinkled as if he’d just put them on. As he drew closer, I could even smell the toothpaste and mouthwash he used. Well, what the Italian fuck.
When he reached for me, I pulled back. “Where were you?”
His eyes flickered over me. “What do you mean where was I?”
“Where were you?” I repeated slower. “When I woke up hours ago, you were already gone, and don’t feed me some bullshit line about not sleeping in the same room with me. I know your mom said it was okay. So again. Where. Were. You.”
With a sigh, he pushed his hand through his damp hair. “I was with my brother. Is that okay with you?”
I didn’t much like the irritation in his voice.
“Were you with your brother, or were you with his wife?”
“Does it matter? They are one and the same.”
“It does matter. They are married, but despite what the Bible says, they are not literally one flesh. So, no, they are not the same. So, which one were you with?”
He stared at me for a moment, his hands on his hips. “I was there for both. Sometimes I sat in my brother’s room, and sometimes I sat with Celia.”
Again, I took in his freshly showered hair and clothes. “Where did you shower?”
“In the bathroom down the hall. When I came in here earlier, you were already in the shower. I thought I’d let you have a few minutes alone, and honestly, I needed a few minutes alone as well.”
His face was like granite, but there was an iciness in the air between us, and it wasn’t just coming from me.
I stared at him for a good minute, with neither of us speaking. I didn’t know what to think. I thought we were over this, that he finally understood my previous reservations when it came to Celia the Snake, but apparently, I was wrong. Celeste’s words penetrated my mind.
“When it comes to his family, Marco can be blind. He loves you, Lydia, but he may not choose you in the end.”
I turned away from him, shook my head, and sighed. “I’m going downstairs.”
When I started to go around him to leave, he caught my arm. I felt like punching him, but I stood still, taking deep breaths and glaring at the door.
Marco spoke to the side of my face. “I did not mean to stay all night. I only meant to drop in to check on them, but…he is very sick, worse than he was yesterday. I was afraid to leave. Can you understand that?”
I closed my eyes for a beat. I had a better understanding of that now more than ever. Before, I hadn’t known Massimo, hadn’t seen how sick he was or how his illness affected those around him. Not that the situation wasn’t real to me before, but now it was very real. Yesterday Marco’s family had been kind and welcoming, but underneath all of that, I’d seen darkness in all of them, the looming cloud of Massimo’s condition and the shadow of death that was in the peripheral.
I understood, but was I supposed to remain silent about Celia? Regardless of everything else, her friendship with Marco made me uneasy. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt under the circumstances, but I honestly found that difficult and wasn’t sure how much leeway I was w
illing to expend.
Still, Marco was upset. It wasn’t written on his face, but I could feel it now as the ice began to melt away. When I turned my head and met his gaze, I saw it there, too.
I turned into him, wrapped my arms around his waist, and pressed my cheek against his chest. We didn’t speak for long minutes, just stood there and embraced. When I finally stepped out of his arms, his face was no longer blank.
“How are you, Tesoro?” The back of his hand caressed my cheek as he looked me over. “Sofia said you were not feeling well, and you look pale.”
I took a breath. Maybe it was time to tell him about the pregnancy. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time, but there didn’t seem to be a good time in this case. If I waited too long, he would think I was trying to hide it from him. Our relationship was in a strange place, and I was far from home, and his brother was deathly sick, but there would be no better time than now.
“Marco, I need to tell you something. A few days ago, right before the wedding, I woke up sick. I thought I had food poisoning and called Adam over in the middle of the night.”
His eyes sparkled with remembrance. Lily had told him I’d had a late-night visitor that night because he’d confronted me about it the following day. That conversation had not gone well, and suddenly, I was nervous about what I was about to tell him. I thought about how angry Gavin had been when I told him I was pregnant with Cora. An unreasonable fear of rejection made me freeze, my mouth open, my eyes wide and on Marco.
“What is it? What’s wrong? Is there something wrong?” His hands were on my arms, shaking me slightly as his panicked voice again asked me what was wrong.
Clearing my throat, I found my voice, though it was low and gave away the anxiety I felt. “Adam thought he knew what the problem was, and so he brought…provisions.”
His forehead crinkled. Bemused, he repeated the last word I’d said. “Provisions.”
