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Eternal Temptations (The Tempted Series Book 6)

Page 20

by Janine Infante Bosco


  “You wrote me a letter on my wedding day,” she says, pausing as Dad covers her hand with his. “I can’t say goodbye to you,” she lifts her eyes to his. “I can tell you I forgive you. I can tell you I love you and I always will. I can promise you I will live a good life and teach my children all the valuable lessons you’ve taught us. I can give you all those things and my solemn word you may leave this world but you’ll never ever leave my heart…I can’t say goodbye.”

  She turns his palm over and places the letter against it before closing his hand and bending her head to kiss it.

  “All the words I can’t bring myself to say are in that letter,” she whispers, dropping his hand to stand and walk around the table. She bends down and wraps her arms around him. “I love you, Dad,” she cries.

  Anthony and Michael walked over to the table, Mikey stands behind me, his hands bracing on the back of my chair as he keeps looking toward the door.

  Adrianna and my dad embrace for several minutes before she pulls back and Anthony extends his hand to my dad. Dad slides his hand into Anthony’s and stands up, shaking his hand and bringing him into his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” my father says. “You’re a good man and I’m proud to call you my son-in-law.”

  “I’ll always take care of your daughter, Vic,” Anthony declares. “I’ll give her all the love a man can give a woman.”

  “I know you will, been watching you do it since you first laid eyes on her.”

  My vision blurs as the clock ticks down and time closes in on us. The door opens and the guard steps inside holding the door open for my mother. She freezes in her tracks as she takes in the scene before her.

  “Gracie,” my father rasps.

  A priest steps into the room and lays a hand on my mother’s shoulder, startling her and forcing her to enter the room. The guard closes the door and leaves us all alone with the priest as Mikey walks around the chair, bends his knees and brings his eyes to mine. He takes my hands in his and I stare at him blankly.

  “Nikki,” he says, clearing his throat before he squeezes my hands in his and smiles. “Marry me,” he whispers.

  “What?” I ask confused. We already had done this. I glance at the ring on my finger, yep, see, we’re engaged.

  “Marry me right now, right here, in front of your dad.”

  I feel my throat close and tears flood my eyes as I glance around the room and then back at the man I love on his knees. I had to be dreaming, this wasn’t happening right now. I mean it couldn’t be.

  “We don’t have a marriage certificate,” I blurt.

  “We’ll get one,” he promises. “You can still do the whole dress thing and we’ll have a big party for your crazy aunt and grandmother, we’ll do it all. But we can do it now too, in front of God, with the man you want to give you away.”

  Tears spill from my eyes as I glance at the priest.

  “Can we?”

  “I can marry you in the eyes of God,” he affirms.

  I looked over at my dad, my mother has now moved to his side, her arm tightly wound around his, leaning her head against his shoulder as they stare back at me.

  “Will you give me away, Daddy?”

  He nods as he cries.

  “It would be my honor,” he replies huskily.

  I smiled before averting my eyes to Mikey.

  “Let’s get married,” I say, leaning my forehead to his.

  The next few minutes feel like a whirlwind as the priest takes his position in the center of the room; Mikey stands to his left and Anthony right beside him. Across from them my sister stands. All eyes were on me as I looped one arm through my father’s and the other through my mother’s as I take six steps toward my groom.

  My mother reaches up and kisses my cheek, whispering in my ear how much she loves me before taking two steps back and allowing me this unforgettable moment with my father. He unravels my arm from his and cups my face with his hands. Cocking his head to the side, he stares at me silently for several moments.

  “Remember I love you,” he whispers before placing a kiss to my forehead. He drops his hands from my face and takes my hand in both of his as he turns to Mikey.

  Then the one thing I gave up on ever hearing was said.

  “Who gives this woman’s hand in marriage?”

  “I do,” my father croaks, taking Mike’s hand and placing my hand inside of it.

  “Thanks, Vic,” Mikey replies, dropping a kiss to my hand before releasing it and shaking my father’s hand. “Thanks for giving me my life back.”

  It may not have been the wedding little girls dream of, but it was perfect. I became Mrs. Michael Valente Jr. in Otisville prison, in the eyes of God and in front of the people I loved most in the world.

  And my dad gave my hand to the man he trusted to take care of me for the rest of my life.

  He got his peace of mind.

  And I got my dream come true.

  That was our final goodbye.

  A day I’ll remember for all of eternity.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I was emotionally exhausted, leaving a piece of my heart behind the barbed wire fence of Otisville Penitentiary when I kissed my father’s cheek one final time and headed out of the prison with my new husband.

  I never saw that one coming.

  On the car ride home, Mikey explained how he had Anthony pull a few strings to make sure a priest was present at our visit. I didn’t ask questions, too grateful to care the lengths my brother-in-law went to help Mikey out.

  I was Mrs. Michael Valente.

  So what if it wasn’t legal, Mikey and I were husband and wife. It was etched in our hearts and with God as our witness and my father’s blessing. It didn’t get any more official than that for me.

  Mikey pulled our car into the driveway and I stared out the window at our house. Maybe we’d raise a family, maybe we’d get a dog, who knows? But I knew for sure, that contained within the walls of our home would be tons of love.

  “You ready to go home, Mrs. Valente?” Mike asks, smiling as he turns off the car and stares at me.

  I avert my eyes away from the house he grew up in, the house he worked so hard to make ours since we first moved in. I wasn’t there for him when his mom passed, I tried to be there for him when his dad was murdered but we were young. I hope we never know loss for the next fifty years but if we should I will be there for him just the way he has been there for me. I will be the pillar he holds onto when the storm rages on and when it finally passes when the clouds part and the sun breaks through, I will be the reason he smiles.

  I don’t know what I did to deserve him, I’ll never understand it but I’ll always thank those who gave us life and left us behind, sure they had a hand in the magic that was me and Mikey.

  I grinned widely at him, tired of crying and wanting so desperately to give him back the pieces of me I lost through the storm that’s been raging around me.

  “Mrs. Valente,” I squeal, grabbing his hand over the console. “You’re my husband! How fucking crazy is that?”

  He chuckles, running his free hand through his hair as he leans against the seat and smiles lazily at me.

  You’re stuck with me now, Princess,” he says, his eyes searing me as he draws out a heavy sigh and waves his hand down the length of him. “All this is yours.”

  My teeth pierce my lower lip as I try to hide my mischievous grin and let my eyes travel the length of him.

  “Never forget who you belong to, Mikey,” I joke as he lifts my left hand to his lips and brushes them softly across my knuckles. The pad of his thumb twirls my engagement ring around my finger as he averts his eyes back to mine.

  “We need to get wedding bands,” he declares. “And a marriage certificate.”

  “Yes, but for no other reason than I will need it to change my name legally,” I agree, pausing for a moment. “I’m your wife, Mikey,” I say, taking our joined hands and resting them over
my chest. “We’re married in here, where it counts most.”

  “That means tonight is our wedding night,” he says suggestively, waggling his eyebrows.

  “It does, and it also means today’s date will be our anniversary, you know for the future,” I wink.

  He laughs as he leans over the console, reaching for me with his free hand and guiding my lips to his.

  “What do you say we make this union official, Princess?”

  He murmurs the question as his lips glided glide over mine teasingly.

  “The last first time we have sex as a married couple will be the first of many last first times,” I say thoughtfully.

  “What’re we waiting for?”

  “For you to carry me over the threshold,” I say pointedly.

  His mouth instantly leaves mine and in a flash he is out of the car, opening my door and pulling me out. He takes my hand and leads me up the front stoop, climbing two stairs at a time until he stands in front of the door.

  Mikey crooks his finger, beckoning me to him to close the few steps separating us, capturing me in his arms by the second step.

  “Shit, my keys are in my pocket,” he mutters.

  I snake my hand around his frame and pull the key ring from the back pocket of his jeans.

  Look at that.

  We already aced the teamwork shit.

  He walks us closer to the door and bends his knees so I can fit the key into the lock and unlock the door. His massive boot kicks the door open and we both glance inside our home before our eyes find one another’s.

  “Ready to make this the last first time you’re carried over the threshold?”

  “So ready,” I say, tightening my arms around his neck.

  He grins, taking one large step over the threshold before gruffly whispering into my ear.

  “Welcome home, Mrs. Valente,” he croons.

  The last first time Mikey welcomed me home as his wife.

  He kicks the door closed, sets me down on my feet and we stare at one another for a few moments. This was it, the beginning of the rest of our lives, and as scary as that was it was also exciting. It was as if the life I knew before today was tucked away safely in a box full of memories and our home was our blank canvas. My father’s voice rang in my ears.

  Paint me a picture.

  Mikey and I were going to paint him one hell of a picture.

  I look at my husband wondering if he was as excited and as nervous as I was. Would we fuck up? Probably. Would we fix it? Always.

  Simultaneously our lips spread into grins as we find our footing and I turn around and run up the stairs.

  He follows me.

  He’d always follow me just as I had followed him in the past.

  I’d always let him catch me.

  After all, he let me catch him.

  His arms snake around my waist as he reaches our bedroom. His fingertips curl into my sides, tickling me and sending me into a fit of giggles.

  Laughing felt almost foreign after all the crying I had been doing but it felt good to let go of my grief and live in the moment.

  Mikey’s hands slide underneath the hem of my shirt, his fingers draw circles on my skin as he presses my back against his front and leans his chin on my shoulder. My laughter tapers off as I twist in his arms and wrap my arms around his neck. Staring into Mikey’s eyes, every uncertainty I carried fades away from me and all that is left is the promise of forever.

  Making one another happy, forever.

  Living in the moment, forever.

  Experiencing life together, forever.

  Loving one another, forever.

  Forever him and me.

  I reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head tossing it on the floor before raising an eyebrow, daring him to mimic me.

  The last first time I dared him as husband and wife.

  With one hand he reaches behind him and lifts his t-shirt over his head, dropping it onto the floor beside mine. I extend my hand and close my fist over the rosary beads that dangle from his neck—his mother’s.

  Thanks Maryann, for creating the perfect man for me to spend forever with.

  I lean down and kiss the crucifix before releasing the beads. I run my fingers down his arms, his muscles flexing beneath my fingertips until they take purchase on his hips. Mikey trails one hand down my stomach and pops the button of my jean shorts with his fingers. He reaches out with his other hand and draws the zipper down before crossing both arms against his chest and taking a step back.

  Take off your clothes, Princess, his eyes dared.

  Dare accepted.

  I slide my thumbs through the belt loops of my shorts and tug the denim down my thighs, bending over suggestively as I work them all the way down. I step out of them, turn my back to him and reach behind me to unclasp my bra, letting the straps fall down my arms. Braless, I spin around and face him, watching as his hooded eyes dip to my breasts. My nipples hardened under his intense gaze as I drag my thong down my hips.

  Mikey pushes my hands out of the way and takes over, looping his fingers under the lace and inching it down my hips, baring my most intimate secrets to him. He drops to his knees, his lips gliding over every inch he has uncovered, continuing down my legs and stopping at my knees. He lifts one foot from the ground and draws the lace down. I go to kick off the thong that dangled from my other ankle when he drapes the leg he is holding over his shoulder. My fingers tangled in his hair, grasping it for leverage as he repeats the motion and lifts me onto his shoulders, depositing me on the bed.

  I watch with lustful eyes as he pushes my knees apart, waiting for him to slide between them but he doesn’t. Instead, he stands there for a moment drinking me in.

  The last first time he stared at his wife, naked and waiting for him.

  He unbuttons his jeans with one hand as he cocks his head to the side. I watch his Adam’s apple as he swallows hard and lifts his eyes to mine.

  “You’ll always be the leading lady of my dreams,” he vows hoarsely.

  I park my lips to tell him he was the dream, the only one worth having, the only one that ever came true but he presses his finger to my lips silencing me.

  Not another word was spoken between us as he finishes undressing and finds his place between my legs. His lips trail down my neck, sucking, grazing and licking all the sweet spots his mouth owned. I squirm against the comforter as his mouth travels lower, finding one breast, squeezing the other, taking my pert nipple between his teeth and tugging on it before his tongue soothes the sting his teeth leaves behind.

  His mouth moves across the valley of skin between my breasts, his tongue tickling the flesh until he sucks my other nipple into his mouth. Mikey’s hands grab a hold of my hips and force my back to arch as he presses my pelvis against his, teasing us both by grinding his cock against my pussy, letting me know how badly he wants me. I wrap my legs around his waist and press myself against him, my nails digging into his shoulders as I urge him to give us what we both needed.

  He shakes his head, releasing my nipple and unraveling my legs from his waist before placing a trail of wet kisses down my belly. My whole body quivers in anticipation as he hovers over my pussy, pushing my legs as wide as they can go. With a feral gaze he stares at me, sighing in appreciation as his fingers ran down the seam of my pussy.

  Mikey came back into my life unexpectedly, broke down the walls I had built without me even noticing and then he rebuilt the walls, adding windows to let me shine through the panes. He showed me what true love is without realizing true love existed in his touch.

  His gentle caress against my skin ignites a fire inside of me and I fist the sheets as I press myself against his hand, riding the two fingers he slides inside of me. Mikey keeps his eyes on mine as he expertly works me, soaking his fingers and priming me for him. His thumb finds the tight bundle of nerves and strokes it slowly, both pleasuring and torturing me equally.

  “Mikey
,” I gasp, swirling my hips and moving to the rhythm he creates. He quickens his pace, curls his fingers inside me and presses down on my clit.

  My vision slips away from me, my voice dead, and my hearing faded leaving me vulnerable to the orgasm that takes over my body and forces me to feel.

  The last first time I orgasmed as his wife.

  My body dips into the mattress as I came down from the natural high his fingers grant me, and before I can catch my breath, Mikey withdraws his hand from between my legs and guides the head of his cock to my entrance. His hand wraps tightly around his dick as he runs the tip up and down my pussy, lubricating himself with all of me.

  The last first time he pushed himself into me without protection.

  The last first time I felt him deep inside of me with nothing between us.

  The last first time my husband made love to me.

  We had a lifetime of firsts still to come and each one of them would be the last first we ever had.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It was the early eighties, Maryann and I were barely legal but that didn’t stop us from painting the town red. I had a part-time job at Rosalie’s bakery, making just enough money to spend my paycheck—that’s a lie. I never received a paycheck, those days we were paid in cash, sixty dollars stuffed in a white envelope that Rosalie scribbled my name on. It was enough cash for me to buy a brand new outfit every Friday. I would take my envelope, cross three avenues and make my way to Something Else boutique on 86th Street.

  I teased my hair six inches to the sky, applied enough blue eyeshadow to my eyelids, you had no choice but to notice my almond shaped eyes. Lastly, I ripped the tags and put on my silk turquoise jumpsuit. Maryann stole her father’s car out of the garage and picked me up at exactly ten o’clock. Studio 54 was packed, the line to get inside the club wrapped around the block but Maryann grabbed my hand and walked us straight to the front of the line.

  “I’m a friend of Val’s,” she told the bouncer guarding the door.

  At the time, I only knew Val as one of the neighborhood guys. He, like most of the guys our age living in Bensonhurst, hung around with the old-timers, the made-men, goodfellas—you know the type of men I’m talking about. Gangsters.

 

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