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Loving the Enemy (Enemy Duet Book 2)

Page 13

by Amy Cecil


  “Elliott should be here shortly,” Ricco says as we step into my office. I sit at my desk and rub my temples. Elliott is our man with immigration, and for some odd reason, he wanted to meet here instead of at the house.

  My intercom beeps only a minute later. “Mr. Vitali, Elliott Rivers is here to see you.”

  “Thank you, Laurel, send him in please,” I reply.

  A few seconds later, Elliott comes into my office. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me here, Michael. I had business in town and wasn’t sure if I would make it out to Long Island.”

  I laugh. “No problem. For a minute there, I thought you might have an aversion with meeting at the house. I mean, after all, it was shot to hell just a few days ago.” I make light of the situation, and Elliott laughs.

  “Naw, I know there is no safer place than inside that house,” he says.

  “So what can I do for you?” I ask as he sits in the chair across from my desk.

  “I wanted to talk to you about Romeo Gallardi.” He sighs. “Michael, we had to let him go.”

  “What?”

  “Well, it appears he’s not who he seems to be.”

  “Care to explain?”

  “Once we had him in custody, he informed us we were making a mistake. Told us we needed to talk to Hugh Auten, the director of the CIA,” he says. “When we contacted Mr. Auten, we were instructed to let him go.”

  “Fuck! Why?”

  “He’s working with the feds, Michael. We can’t touch him.”

  “So you mean to tell me that he fucking blows my house to bits and kidnaps my wife, and he just gets away with it?” I’m furious, and I want to fucking hit something. I can’t believe this fucking asshole gets to walk.

  “Mr. Auten was very vague, but he did say they were using him and his cartel to get a handle and eventually take down drug trafficking in the states. All I can say is it is a good thing you didn’t take that deal with him. They would have busted your ass for doing it.”

  “Holy fuck.” I can’t believe what I am hearing. It was a sting. A fucking sting designed to nail my family to the wall. Well thank fuck we have never nor ever will deal with drugs.

  “I’m sure you have plans to take the cartel down, but I am advising you not to proceed, Michael.”

  “I can’t do that,” I reply. “And you will do well to remember who pays your real salary.”

  “I know, I know,” he replies. “I’m not saying I’m gonna rat you out if you do. I’m just using my knowledge to ask you to think differently on it. It could end really bad, especially if you get him before he leaves the country.”

  I need to talk privately with Ricco, so I cut the meeting short. “Thanks, Elliott, I will take your advice into consideration.”

  Looking a bit disgruntled by my abrupt dismissive tone, he says, “Well, okay.” He stands and walks toward the door. “I’m on your side here, Michael. Remember what I said.”

  “I will,” I say.

  Elliott turns back around and leaves, closing the door behind him.

  “Well, what the fuck do we do now?” Ricco asks.

  “We proceed as planned,” I say.

  “But, Mikey, you heard him. He’s working with the fucking feds.”

  “I heard him, Ricco, but it doesn’t change anything. He fucking blew up my house. He had Zaira kidnapped and turned one of our own men against us. And I made a promise to Ice. He fucking dies.”

  “Do you have a plan?” Ricco asks, knowing it’s futile to argue with me. My mind is made up. Perhaps it’s a mistake, but I know if we handle this right, they will never be able to tie anything we do to him back to the Vitalis. I’ll make damn sure about it.

  “I’m gonna wait. I’m gonna let him get settled back into the safety of his own home. I’m gonna take Zaira on a honeymoon, and when I get back, we’ll make our move. Nobody fucks with the Vitalis and lives to tell the tale. Are you with me?” I know I don’t have to ask. Ricco will stand behind me no matter what. He always has, and I know he always will.

  “You know I am,” he replies. “Honeymoon?”

  I smile. “Zaira and I have reconciled. The divorce is off, and she is moving back into the manor as we speak.”

  “Oh, man, I am so glad to hear that. I knew she’d come around.”

  “I’m glad you did ’cause, hell, I wasn’t so sure.” I exhale in relief. “Come on, let’s get back to the house. I fucking hate the city.”

  On our way out, just as we pass Laurel’s desk, I ask Ricco, “Once Eric gets back from Edinboro, tell him to file a flight plan to Florence in the next day or two. I’m taking Zaira to Italy.”

  I know it’s another dick move, but in case she didn’t get the message earlier, I have now made myself perfectly clear.

  Once we get into the elevator, I tell Ricco, “Oh and have some flowers sent to Laurel with an apology from her dick boss. Send Gio to deliver them, they’d make a cute couple.

  Ricco laughs and nods.

  Chapter 23

  Zaira

  As I’m coming down the stairs, I see Michael and Ricco enter the house. Michael spots me immediately, and his smile tells me he’s happy to see me. I rush the rest of the way down and run into his arms. “You were out?”

  “Yeah, had some business in town. How was your day?” he asks as he kisses my forehead.

  “Productive,” I reply. “Vince had the boys move all my stuff in. I’m all unpacked and now have taken over your bedroom.” I giggle.

  “Oh, baby, that is music to my ears.”

  “I hope I didn’t overstep,” I say, worriedly.

  “Listen up, darling, this is your house now. I’ll be fine with anything you do. Well, except please don’t paint my bedroom pink.”

  “Oh but, Michael, I already did, and it’s now drying,” I tease, and he laughs. He’s known me long enough to know I’m not a pink kind of girl.

  “Come on,” he says. “We’ve got some time before dinner. Why don’t you show me my new pink bedroom.”

  He picks me up and carries me up the stairs. I can’t help laughing as I call behind us, “Bye, Ricco.”

  “Take care of those things we talked about, Ricco,” Michael says.

  Ricco laughs. “Got it.”

  When we get to Michael’s bedroom, he opens the door with me still in his arms. He takes me inside and flops me on the bed. Standing at the side of the bed, he says, “Hmmmm pink walls, huh?”

  I quickly defend myself. “But I didn’t. I was teasing.”

  He laughs. “You know, if it was what you really wanted, I’d live with it.”

  I smile, rising to my knees and inching my way toward the edge of the bed where he’s standing. “I love you, Michael,” I say, looking directly into his eyes.

  “You do?” he asks.

  “Do you even have to ask?”

  He thinks for a minute and says, “I think you need to show me.” He slowly undoes his belt, and the anticipation is killing me. I feel giddy.

  He is now standing next to the bed in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. Oh my God! He’s magnificent! There’s no other word to describe him. I think back to the skinny boy I grew up with. He was tall and lanky, but now, the man who stands before me is muscular with chiseled abs and the most incredible and defined V. He’s got a line of dark hair that travels from his belly button to past the hem of his briefs, and I can see through his boxers he’s already erect. He’s freaking delicious, and I can’t stop staring. He looks at me and catches me assessing him. He grins and pulls me into his arms. “Like what you see, babe?”

  “Mmm, I do,” I reply. His body feels so good against mine, and I can’t believe I went without him for so long. He bends to nuzzle my neck and whispers in my ear, “Fuck, you smell so good.” He takes a deep breath against my ear and goose bumps appear all over my body. I feel moisture pooling between my legs. Oh dear God, I want him. I want him right now!

  He directs me to turn around. Still on my knees on the bed, I’m now facing away from
him. Michael wraps his arms around me and presses his body flush up against me, with my back to his front. He holds me firm with his left hand, splayed across my belly, pulling me even closer against him while his right hand pulls my hair away from my ear. He presses his lips to my ear and says with a ragged breath, “So tell me, beautiful, are you really here for good?”

  My legs quiver at his words, and breathlessly, I answer, “Yes.”

  His left hand moves up my stomach, pulling my shirt up with it. With the edge of his thumb, he gently strokes the underside of my breast. I tremble. His touch feels so good. He undoes my bra with his right hand and slides his left higher up my body, tracing over my ribs until he has the full weight of my breast in his palm. He feathers kisses down my neck. He takes his right hand and slides it down my front toward the waistband of my jeans. He hesitates for a moment, as if he is asking me for permission. Then he whispers, “I’m giving you one last chance to change your mind. Remember what I said last night. There is no turning back.”

  “I’m yours,” I whisper. “I won’t change my mind, Michael, because I always have been yours, and I always will be.” I need him, and by the bulge pressing into my backside, I know he needs me too.

  I’m so desperate for him and want nothing more than for him to kiss me. I need to feel his lips fuse with my own. I lean back, hoping he gets the hint, and to my surprise he does. With no more hesitation, no more questions, he claims my lips with a need like I have never known.

  Before the next thought pops into my mind, Michael turns me around and has me flat on my back. He’s crawling up my body as if he’s a predator stalking his prey. I am his prey. His hardness presses against my body, and the pleasure he ignites makes me want him more. He continues to torment me with his lips and his hands. Breathlessly, I whisper, “Michael, I want you.” When he continues with his torture, I beg. “Please.”

  With my final plea, he pulls away from me. “How bad do you want me, Zaira?” He’s teasing me now so that I will continue to beg him for it. Okay fine, I’m not above begging.

  Anxious with anticipation, I reply. “I want you badly, Michael. If you don’t fuck me right now, I think I will lose my mind. I need you desperately.”

  Convinced, Michael quickly removes my denim shorts and my top and bra, which has been hanging loosely on my body. He draws my hand down to his boxers and presses my palm against his erection. “Touch me. I need to feel your touch, Zaira, please.”

  Trembling, my hand slides down the inside of his boxers. Michael groans as he jerks his hips, thrusting into my palm. All those years Michael was the man I was supposed to marry. Now, I’m his wife, and he is this beautiful man whom I know I will never be able to get enough of. I run my other hand over his chest, broad and thick with muscle, tracing the defined lines of his abs. My right hand continues to stroke his cock, as it lies heavy in my hand. Michael moans at the pleasure I am giving him.

  He bends down and takes my nipple between his lips. He sends shivers of need to my core as he rolls it with his tongue, and I feel the combination of the cool air on my skin coupled with his hot, wet mouth. I can’t help the moan that escapes or the instinctive arch to my back that offers him more.

  He releases my nipple and says, “That’s right, baby. Give it to me. Give it all to me.” He turns his attention to my other breast, placing his hands on my hips, and I ground the curve of my sex against his erection. The friction feels amazing, and my body is enflamed with need.

  I continue to rock against him, never getting enough; I need more than the tease he is allowing me to have. I tighten my grip on his shaft and work him as hard as I dare. I slide my hand up and down his shaft, being sure to touch him from balls to tip in a steady rhythm.

  He releases a tortured groan and demands, “Harder.”

  I don’t think I can get much wetter, but hearing the want and need in his voice, I realize I am wrong. He made me want him more.

  “Michael, please, I can’t take this torture anymore. Take me. Now.”

  “Are you ready for me?” he asks breathlessly.

  “Touch me and find out for yourself.”

  With my words, Michael palms my cleft and slides his fingers through my folds. He groans as he pushes one finger inside, and I immediately clench around him.

  “Oh God, baby, you are so wet. So ready for me.” He gets up from the bed, walks to his jeans, and pulls out his wallet. After digging through, he pulls out a condom and quickly removes the wrapper.

  Just as he’s about to sheath himself, I say, “No.” He looks at me as if I have lost my mind, but I continue. “No condom. I want you bare, Michael. I want to really feel you.”

  “But what if you get pregnant?” he asks.

  “Then we get pregnant,” I reply. “I want nothing more than to give you a family, Michael. Please.”

  He saunters back to the bed and crawls back up on top of me and says, “This is a first for me.”

  I look at him curiously. “A first?”

  “You, my lovely wife, are the first woman I’ve ever had sex with without a condom.”

  I nod and smile. I mean, really at this point, I am done talking. My body aches for him. All I want is to feel his hot hardness inside me. Michael enters me with one powerful thrust and stops. The only movement is his body shaking. I whisper, “You feel so good, Michael, so hard, so thick.”

  “Zaira,” he says breathlessly. He groans, and with a sense of purpose, he hammers into me. My hands dig into his flesh as I try to keep up with the frantic rhythm of his thrusts. He’s so deep, and I can feel every movement of his hardness inside me.

  We are both sweaty as our bodies slam together, the sound of our flesh slapping against each other. It’s incredibly erotic, and my orgasm builds quickly, heating my body even more. My muscles coil inside and out, and I feel as if I am going to combust. My undoing comes when Michael reaches between us and brushes his thumb against my clit. I explode with a low, guttural groan, shuddering around him. It’s too intense, but Michael continues to hammer into me. I see sweat beading on his brow. As he continues to find his release, another orgasm builds within me. Michael grows harder inside me, and as he reaches his climax, I do too. This orgasm tears through us both, and we ride it out together. When the last ripple of pleasure fades away, he collapses on top of me. He lies there for several minutes before he slowly pulls out of me and rolls to my side. Pulling me close to his chest, he murmurs in my ear, “My beautiful wife.”

  We spend almost an hour snuggled together in bed when Michael says, “So, Zaira, I realized earlier today that I owe you something.”

  Curious by his statement, I ask, “Owe me something?”

  “Yes, something that should have happened right after we were married but didn’t.”

  “Michael, I left right after we were married.”

  “Yes, you did, which is why I never gave it to you.”

  Now he has totally piqued my curiosity. What could he possibly be talking about? “So are you going to enlighten me?”

  “Maybe,” he says teasingly.

  I sit up and tickle him. “Michael Anthony Vitali, you tell me right now!”

  He’s laughing and I’m laughing until he finally says, “Okay, okay, no more tickling. I’ll tell you.” He grins at me. “So last week you asked me if you could go to Italy.”

  “Yes?” Suddenly, I’m not liking where this is going. Is he really going to send me away?

  “And remember I gave you certain stipulations to meet before I would allow you to go?”

  I’m not liking this one bit. “Yes. I remember,” I reply curtly.

  “Well, I realized this morning you met all the stipulations.”

  “Michael, are you sending me away?” I ask as I fight back the tears.

  “I am, Zaira. I’m sending you to Florence.” He pauses, and tears stream down my face. I try to hide it, but he grabs my chin and makes me look at him. “However, there is one more stipulation you have to meet before you can go.”
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br />   “And that is?” I ask cautiously.

  “You’ve got to take me with you.” At first I really don’t hear what he says, but then it registers. The tears that had begun to flow are now happy tears as I pull him into my arms.

  “You’re taking me on a honeymoon!” I exclaim.

  “Of course, my love, did you think I was talking about something else?” he teases.

  “Dammit, Michael. You scared me!”

  He laughs, and I’m so freaking happy. I can’t help but laugh too.

  Chapter 24

  Michael

  Zaira and I are leaving tonight. But now, I am meeting with Ricco and the boys, as well as Alex and Sal. I inform them of my plan to take Zaira to Italy and instruct Alex to keep an eye on Romeo, but I tell them to stand down regarding Gallardi.

  “Why are we waiting, Michael?” Alex asks. “We need to hit them while they are weak.”

  I shake my head. “They are not weak, Alex. Trust me on this. I want them to think there will not be any retaliation. If we hit them now, they will expect it. But if we wait, it will come as a surprise.”

  “I get that, but I think you are making a mistake.”

  “Listen, little brother, there are things about Gallardi you don’t know and that I am not at liberty to divulge. This is the right thing to do.”

  “If you say so. You’re the boss,” Alex says, and I see he is frustrated. I will tell him when it’s just him and me about Gallardi’s CIA connections, but I don’t want the rest of the boys to know. Right now, only Ricco and I are privy to that information and I want to keep it that way for a while. If they think we are gonna go against the CIA, we may have some issues I am not willing to deal with. It’s better they are left in the dark.

  “Alex, let Ice know the plan and make sure he doesn’t go all cowboy on us. I don’t expect him to, but just keep an eye on him and the MC.”

 

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