“Forget him. Are you happy?”
I shouldn’t be, but my honest answer was yes. Resenting him seemed petty, considering the facts. I’d already forgiven him in my heart. “I’d like to see my parents and sister more often.”
He glared at the floor. “Then do it. Just don’t expect me to tag along.”
“Why?”
“Because they hate me, and I hate them.”
“What do you have against Mia?”
“Nothing. It’s Alessio I have a problem with.” He soured, glaring at his desk. “He’s a coward. Left you to die.”
“I thought he was your best friend.”
“Not anymore.”
Michael’s arm hooked my waist, and he drew me onto his lap. Heat rushed into my face as he held me tightly, his anger vibrating through my back.
“He’s a dick. He abandoned you with that monster.” Devastation flickered in his bourbon eyes. “He didn’t give a damn about the consequences. He just left you there.”
“You’re being really harsh. I told him I was safe.”
“You weren’t, and he knew better. If you’d been my fiancée, I never would’ve done that.”
Honestly, I held zero animosity toward Alessio. We were forced into an engagement we didn’t want, and I’d run out on him. I’d fallen in love with another man. I’d had no desire to be chased by Alessio.
But flames licked my body when it was Michael.
I kissed him. Michael stiffened, and then he melted into me. Sparks danced across my skin as his fingers teased my waist. He slid me over the desk. His touch sailed up my dress, and he kissed me in long, torturous strokes that reminded me how much I loved being naked with him. It’d been forever—fuck—almost a week.
“Will we watch the movie, or are you kissing all night?” Mariette’s dry voice cut into the room.
We jumped apart as Mariette crossed her arms. Michael chuckled as he pushed the straps over my tingling shoulders. Then he took my hand, and we strolled into the living room covered in popcorn. He brushed kernels off the couch before we sat together. Matteo dove into the crook of his arm.
It was dark and peaceful. Michael’s heartbeat pulsed into my back. The swell of his breathing lulled me into closing my eyes. I sank into oblivion as he nuzzled my temple and whispered words that made my heart race.
“I love you.”
I still wanted a baby.
The desire grew into a full-fledged obsession by the time I’d left Mia’s house and arrived at our quiet, oak-lined street. It’d hit me hard as I’d played with my fourteen-month-old niece, who’d started walking.
The bubbles were almost gone. A floral scent saturated the lukewarm water. Heat lapped my neck as the soap fizzled. I’d disappeared into our bathroom, hoping he’d notice.
I didn’t wait long.
As soon as he put the kids to bed, the doorknob twisted. Michael’s Derby shoes slid into view, the rest of him hidden in the fogged mirror. The visual of my well-dressed husband stepping through steam tickled my skin with flames.
He approached the bath, wearing a smirk that licked my body.
The air was stifling, the bathwater boiling, and I couldn’t stand it. My toe snagged the chain blocking the drain and knocked it out of place. Michael grabbed a towel, taking his sweet time.
He held it toward me. I reached.
Then he jerked it away.
“I didn’t see that one coming.”
“Then why did you try to grab it?” Michael grinned as he dried me off. He patted my face and soaked the drops clinging to my shoulders. He wrapped me, kneeling as he wiped my stomach and hips. The cotton ran down my legs. Judging from the smile that turned feral, he assumed I was game for more than playful banter.
He was right.
Michael stood, the cotton sliding into my hair. He massaged my head. “You want to fool around?”
“I need more than fucking you once in a while, Michael.”
“We were going at it pretty often.”
“That was before I found out you were a liar. You’re not the man I was falling for.”
“Perhaps I am. I never pretended to be good. Ask me a question.”
“What?”
“You said you don’t know who I am, so ask.”
I couldn’t think while his pulse bumped my naked skin. “Tell me about your life.”
“I grew up poor. We didn’t have two nickels to rub together after my father died, so my brother dropped out of school to work. I returned the favor when I was older—trips to Italy, gifts, that sort of thing.”
“What were you like as a kid?”
“Like Matteo, but a lot meaner.”
“So, you were his opposite.”
“I was energetic. Always bouncing off the walls, causing trouble, wreaking havoc in classrooms because I couldn’t sit quietly.”
That side of him had passed on to Matteo.
Michael nudged me. “What about you?”
“My teenage years were uncomfortable. I had big boobs when I was ten, so I was fending off men from a young age. Dad never wanted me to date, so I didn’t. He told me to save my purity for my husband, which had never made sense. Why did I have to be pure? He sure as hell wasn’t.”
Michael laughed. “I stopped being pure at fifteen. Did it in the backseat of my brother’s car, which I stole to bang my girlfriend. He beat the shit out of me, but it was worth it.”
“Your brother hit you?”
“Yep. He resented quitting school to watch us. We fought constantly. When I was thirteen, he stabbed me in the thigh. I would’ve bled to death if he hadn’t wised up and called the ambulance.”
I rubbed his bicep. “God, I’m so sorry.”
“He was an asshole, but I still loved him.”
Thinking of my father, I nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“Do you?”
I met his gaze, startled by his tone.
Did I love him?
He leaned in, the smell of him enveloping me like a fog.
“Michael, I want to keep trying.”
The towel slackened. It struck the floor with a wet slap.
His palms scooped my face. “Thought you’d never ask.”
“I just want a baby. I’m not saying that I—”
“I don’t care.”
His grip settled on my hip. The other brushed my hair off my shoulder, and a violent shiver ripped through my skin. A feather-light stroke sailed down my abdomen as his breath skated my neck.
I whimpered.
Michael’s chest and groin pressed into me. He turned my head toward him, fingers clasping my jaw as his other hand drifted across my legs.
I gasped as he grazed my clit. The gentle pressure slammed desire into a body that didn’t worry about Michael’s crimes.
His lips crashed into mine.
He rubbed my clit in brisk circles, sliding up and down my seam. I moaned, arching against him. He unzipped his slacks and took off the belt, which landed with a jingle. He pushed me onto the bathroom counter, rubbing me harder.
My hands smacked the mirror, my limbs on the verge of collapse. His cock slid inside. I groaned as he filled me.
It’d been too long. I needed this.
God, did he make me feel.
With Michael, surrendering never felt like giving up. Not when he ran his tongue down my neck and lashed my breasts like I was made of sugar. Or when he parted my thighs and drank from my pussy.
Pure bliss.
I felt worshipped.
He fisted my hair and fucked me. A thrill launched into my heart as I watched us in the foggy mirror. He was goddamned beautiful, a spectacle of masculine power as he removed his shirt. He lowered himself, his mouth twisting into a snarl as he transformed into a rutting beast.
He was so hard. It was like being impaled. I hissed, but Michael didn’t take it easy on me.
He yanked me upright, his hand wrapping my throat. Michael’s growl reverberated deep as he stabbed into me. H
e squeezed, and a lightning bolt of pleasure shot into me. My breathing ragged, I bucked against him. My muscles tensed. He hammered me faster. My hands slipped off the mirror. He caught me before I dropped. The last thrusts were like two swift blows as he groaned.
He let me go. The air flowed into my lungs. I came with a shuddering moan, the sound broken by his pounding hips. I slumped onto the counter, trembling. He dragged his knuckles through my hair. A rumble resonated in his chest.
“I fucking love you.”
My eyes burned.
I wanted to say it back, but I needed the warmth that accompanied those words without the sting of fear.
I kissed him before realizing my mistake. Feeding his feelings was dangerous. I had to stop.
Sooner or later, they’d turn him mad as they had with Nick.
Love had ruined him.
And Michael—it would destroy him.
Twenty-Eight
Michael
Sundays used to be my favorite day.
Every weekend, I’d pack the kids into the car, and we’d head to Mom’s. Serena was usually sober enough to make it through dinner, even though I had to micromanage her wine intake.
Daniel’s empty seat weighed on my mind as we tucked into Mom’s gravy. The mood was somber, probably because Carmela took Daniel’s spot near the sliding glass door. I didn’t have the heart to tell her she should’ve stayed home, but she insisted on coming. Carmela wanted everybody to get along.
I loved that about her, but it was naive. I would never trust Ignacio with my children. I wouldn’t forgive Alessio or play nice with that prick.
My sister’s fork shrieked the ceramic as she spiraled her pasta. Mom stared at her plate and drank. At least she hadn’t burst into tears. Carmela coaxed Matteo into finishing his supper. His doctors wanted him to gain more weight, but he was a stubborn eater. Carmela had taken to blending vegetable soup.
“Don’t you want to be as strong as Daddy?” Carmela squeezed his little biceps. “They won’t grow if you don’t eat. Come on. One more bite.”
“No.” Matteo shook his mess of curls. “Not hungry.”
Carmela began anew with a different tactic, “You can’t leave the table until you finish.”
Liana watched with a lifted brow. My sister was a petite woman and practically a baby at only twenty years old. I considered her family, but we weren’t related. Mom adopted her after a mob assassination orphaned Liana when she was four. Daniel had raised her with a much gentler hand.
Liana’s gaze tore from Carmela. “Is Vinny coming?”
Not this again. “Vinny. He’d die if he heard you call him that.”
Hope swirled in her blue eyes that I wished would disappear.
“It’s what I’ve always called him.”
“He’s not Vinny. He’s the boss.” I ignored Carmela squeezing my thigh and speared a meatball. “Remember that.”
“Is he on his way?”
God, she wouldn’t let it go.
“No idea.” I dunked a chunk of bread in the sauce. “Why?”
“He hasn’t returned my calls.”
Of course, he doesn’t. “Baby girl. Put down the torch already. Vinn is not interested. Find somebody else before he breaks your heart again, and you become an old maid.”
Judging by the sudden absence of clattering knives and forks, I’d crossed the line. Liana turned a shade of beet-red and glowered.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
Good.
She knew damned well I didn’t approve. He would never, ever share her feelings. Daniel would tell me to knock it off, but I was tired of watching her agonize over my heartless cousin.
Carmela seemed to want to fill in for my brother. She seized my knee, dug in, and dragged up my thigh.
Hello.
I grabbed her leg. Carmela’s nails pierced my slacks. I pushed my chair back before she stabbed my balls.
“Michele. Your sister is just concerned.” Mom used the Italian pronunciation of my name whenever I was a shit.
Too bad it never worked.
“So am I. She has a crush on our cousin.”
“I don’t have a crush,” she seethed. “And we’re not related, you jackass.”
“Hey. Language.”
Mom took the bowl of gravy and passed it to Carmela, who heaped a second helping over her pasta. Liana shot away, disappearing in a blur of pink. Carmela grimaced into her glass of water, and Mariette raised her head, looking thoughtful.
“What’s a jackass?”
“Great.” I glared in Liana’s direction, my voice rising into a shout. “You see what happens when you curse at the dinner table?”
Carmela’s haughty disapproval deepened into disgust. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“I am?”
“Yes. Go apologize.”
Fine.
I left my seat, sighing. My sister sulked in the kitchen, tearing a napkin into fourths, pacing, her blue gaze spilling with tears. She was so sensitive. I never knew what to say. Our age difference sometimes made it feel like we lived on different planets.
“Li, I’m sorry.”
Liana crossed her arms.
“I don’t like hurting you, but you know I’m right.”
“Shut up and stay out of my life. You’re not Daniel. You’ve never acted like a big brother.”
Ouch. “I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”
“Believe me. I won’t. I watched you destroy yourself with Serena.” Liana threw silverware into the dishwasher. “I miss Vinny. I wish he came by more often. That’s all.”
He’d stopped dropping in a year ago, after Nico promoted him to acting boss. She’d probably only showed because she hoped Vinn might come.
God. “Why don’t you find yourself a nice guy?”
“Why can’t you see a therapist for your rage issues? Or your drug problem? Or whatever hole you’ve dug yourself into this time. I don’t need your advice. Mind your damned business.”
Well, that went well.
I shut my mouth and left Liana. My mother took over looking after the kids as Carmela gathered plates.
I kissed her cheek.
Carmela’s lips thinned. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“What?”
“You’re burning bridges with your sister.”
My insides squirmed. “Vinn isn’t good enough for her.”
Her eyes flashed with disapproval. “Did you have to humiliate the poor girl?”
“I hate that she pines after Vinn.” I helped her gather dishes, sighing. “She’s loved him ever since they were children.”
“So what? She’s a young girl. Give her a break.”
“That’s why I want to keep her away from Vinn.” I snorted. “He’s too thick to put it together.”
“Why not tell him?”
“That’s not my place.”
“But it’s your place to stop her from dating the man she wants?”
“He is a violent man with a drug addiction.” The cutlery rattled as I dumped them in a bowl. “I was married to someone similar. My sister is never going through that. Period. End-of-fucking-story.”
“Vinn seems healthy.”
“He’s been sober for years, but still.”
There was a lot more I could say, but I wouldn’t.
I loved my cousin. I did, but I’d never trust him around my sister.
Carmela carried everything into the kitchen. “Deciding that for her won’t work. Let her make her own mistakes.”
“No fucking way.”
My attention snapped toward the front door as a key scraped the lock. It swung open to admit a broad-shouldered man with a wide, chiseled jaw.
Fuck.
Carmela laughed as Vinn strolled inside, slipping the keys into his jacket sprinkled with rain.
Mom rushed to his side. “Sit down. Eat.”
“Hi, Zia Lena.”
“Are you hungry?”
“No, I’m good.�
� He bowed, kissing the air beside her cheek. “I’m here to talk to Mike.”
“You should eat. Sit.” Mom gathered a mountain of pasta and grabbed his elbow, steering him into the dining room.
“I’m full.”
“Refusing my mother is pointless,” I shouted, wiping the plate Carmela had washed. “She won’t leave you alone. Just say yes.”
Vinn dropped into the seat, as Mom whisked over a napkin, water, and cutlery. Within a few seconds, she’d gathered enough food to feed a football team and shoved it at Vinn, who seemed to have cut his losses.
A stampede of feet cascaded down the stairs. Liana appeared in the doorway, beaming. I cringed as she bounced over. Carmela’s grip dug into me, but I ignored her.
“Hey, Vinny. How’ve you been?” Liana slid her arm across his neck and hugged him. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Vinn glanced up, looking like he always did when confronted with the sheer force of my sister’s affection—deeply uncomfortable. He patted her. “Fine.”
Would it kill him to fake a little warmth?
Liana wasn’t dissuaded from his one-word reply. “Did you read my texts?”
“Yeah, sorry…Been super busy.”
Liana couldn’t take a hint.
Vinn’s gaze swept over my sister and found me. His eyes narrowed with a pointed save-me-from-your-sister plea, which I used to ignore because I loved how he squirmed. It stopped being funny when I realized Liana’s childhood crush wasn’t fading.
Six years ago when he joined the Marines, Liana had been a fucking mess. She’d called me every week, bawling. Vinn would get shot. He would die. She’d never see him again.
He returned home months later, kicked out after an incident he refused to discuss. Nobody would hire him after he was dishonorably discharged, so I got him a job as an enforcer. He booted his drug habit soon after, but he was never quite right again.
I rapped my knuckles on the wall. “Vinn and I need to talk business. Li, could you give us the room?”
Her arms disengaged from Vinn, who didn’t seem to notice her disappointment or catch her lingering stare. They were two of the dumbest people I’d ever met.
I sank into the seat beside Vinn. “What’s up?”
“Anthony’s been kidnapped, and you’re having Sunday dinner.”
Taken: A Dark Mafia Romance Page 17
