by A. Zavarelli
“Ryland.” Her eyes danced with laughter as she nudged me in the side.
Oh, right.
I redirected my attention to the officiant who shot me a chafed look before repeating himself. I recited the words he told me to like a good little minion, unaware of what they even were. It was of little consequence. There were no words somebody else could write that’d ever pronounce my love for Brighton. My promises to her.
Left to my own devices, I’d voice in no uncertain terms the debauchery we’d be getting up to for the rest of our lives. How she’d be swollen with my children again and again until she forbade me from doing so. There could’ve been gallant paragraphs uttered about how I’d forfeit my life before ever allowing her harm. How I’d never stray or break a promise to her again. Lastly, I most certainly wouldn’t touch a single hair on her brother’s cuntish head. But I knew Brighton would want the carefully constructed words in front of our friends. The supplementary vows could be whispered later when I was deep inside of her.
We got to the part with the rings, and I grinned when panic flashed across her face. She stared down at the little white pillow with parted lips, only now realizing there wasn’t one for me. I milked it out a few seconds longer than necessary, so my evil counterpart could watch her blush again.
Hard as a rock in my trousers, I pompously displayed my hand. The warmth of her fingers traced over the fresh tattoo and tears welled in her eyes.
“My heartbeat?” she squeaked.
I nodded and squeezed her hands in mine.
“Oh, God,” she blubbered to the officiant. “I’m going to lose it, so you better wrap this up.”
He smiled and said the words I never thought I’d hear. We were now husband and wife.
“I love you.” I smashed my lips against hers and tasted the salt of her tears. “So fucking much.”
“I love you too, Ryland. More than anything.”
Fuck, yeah. No take backs, Brighton. I’m all yours.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Brighton
“How long do you think we have to stay and keep mingling?” I asked.
Ryland paused and shot me a worried expression. “Are you getting tired?”
I smiled and shook my head. “No, I was just wondering when I can take my husband back to our room.”
He laughed and continued to hold me in his arms while we moved in time to the music. “Someone’s being greedy. You know how much I like that.”
I glanced at Matt and Nicole as they danced beside us, and I’d never seen her look happier. I hoped that it would last. I hoped that all the bumpiness was behind us now.
Norma danced with Ted, who’d made the journey to Florida as well. It took me by surprise at first though it probably shouldn’t have. He was the closest thing Ryland had to family. My heart squeezed in my chest when I looked up into his blue eyes. He looked as at peace as I’d ever seen him and I wanted him to stay that way forever.
Almost as if he could sense my train of thought, a dark look passed over his face.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said quietly. “I’m just… happy, baby girl.”
I nodded and swallowed down my fears. He didn’t have to say anything else because I knew his were the same. He’d told me once that happiness was fleeting, and as much as I didn’t want to believe that, I had to wonder if it was true.
I couldn’t let any of those thoughts have real estate inside of my brain. Ryland and I had a fresh start, and I wanted to put everything else behind us.
“Come on.” He reached down and threaded his fingers through mine. “I think we’ve mingled long enough.”
***
“Brighton, tell me what’s wrong.”
Ryland sounded worried, but he had no reason to be. I wrung my hands together and bit my lip to keep my voice from shaking. “It’s nothing. I’ll be out in just a minute."
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, wondering for the hundredth time if this was ridiculous. I’d never worn lingerie in my life. Well, not like this anyway.
The sheer white babydoll that looked great in the photos online only served to flaunt my growing belly, and I wondered if Ryland would even find it remotely sexy. The larger I got, the more I started to worry that at some point he would stop finding me sexy at all. I knew it was a ridiculous train of thought. I was growing a human, and my body had to change to accommodate that. But whether it was logical or not, those fears were still there.
“Brighton,” Ryland’s voice carried from the other side of the door. “If there’s something wrong, just tell me.”
I took a deep breath and twisted the knob.
His eyes met mine and then trailed down my body. I realized it was silly of me to worry because right away I saw the hunger he couldn’t hide.
“You are so fucking beautiful.” He gripped my hips in his hands and tugged me closer. My belly bumped into his, and I laughed.
“I was nervous,” I admitted.
“Why, baby?”
His hands smoothed up my sides and then dipped beneath the silk cups to play with my breasts. I could hardly think when he did that.
“I just didn’t know if you would like it,” I said. “Because I’m getting bigger, and I feel weird about it.”
“Brighton.” He burrowed into my neck and wrapped his hands around my waist to squeeze my ass. “You’re having my baby. You couldn’t be any sexier if you tried. You’re supposed to get bigger. I want you to get bigger. I want you healthy and happy. I’ll never stop thinking you’re beautiful, you only grow more so every day.”
I reached up on my toes and pulled his lips to mine, kissing him softly. “Thank you, Ryland. For everything that you’ve done this week. For today. I can’t believe you’re my husband.”
“Say it again,” he pleaded.
“My husband,” I whispered, clasping his face in my hands. “My gorgeous husband.”
“I want you to say that every time I make you come tonight,” he ordered.
He was so serious as he said it I couldn’t help but smile and nod. Of course, I would give in to him. I always did.
“Take me to bed now,” I begged.
“Married five minutes and already acting like the boss,” he smirked.
I shoved him in the chest and pushed him back against the bed. “Take your clothes off.”
This time he didn’t hesitate to do my bidding. His eyes roamed over me as I positioned myself on the bed and watched him unbutton his dress shirt and kick off his pants. He was perfectly comfortable in his nakedness when he prowled towards me. But then again, he had a reason to be. He was perfect.
He started at my feet, massaging them the way he often did now. And then he pulled them both up to kiss each instep. This was a new kink of his I was starting to see a lot of lately, but I didn’t mind since I’d just taken a shower this time. I wiggled my toes, and he sucked them into his mouth, teasing them as he watched me. Already I was soaking wet and ready for him, but that wasn’t new. I didn’t think there was much he couldn’t do with his mouth that wouldn’t get me this way.
He kissed his way up my calves and thighs, rubbing his face against the sensitive skin until it turned pink. Even though he’d shaved this morning, he was already sporting some stubble. Since he’d discovered I was pregnant, he was much more careful in the ways he went about marking me. This was one of his new favorites. I didn’t mind at all.
He reached the lacey white thong between my legs and gave it a tug with his teeth. It disintegrated into several scraps of material that he tossed aside without any care. Then his heavy lidded eyes descended as he prodded me with his fingers, spreading me apart for him to see. He blew out a breath, and it tickled me, but it wasn’t enough. I needed his mouth on me.
“Ryland.” I tugged on his hair, but he didn’t budge.
“Shhh,” he whispered. “I’m enjoying this.”
He teased me with one finger, sliding in and out with deliberate slowness. I roc
ked my pelvis down to greet him, desperate for more. It wasn’t fair that he acted as though he had all the time in the world. I needed him, and I needed him now.
“This is the first time I’m ever going to fuck you as my wife,” he said. “Let me savor it.”
“Fine.” I pouted.
I felt him smile against me, and then his tongue slid right up my center, exactly where I needed him. My hands tightened their grip on his hair, and I bucked against him. He groaned.
Ryland liked it when I was rough with him, but I didn’t even mean to be. It was out of my control. He gripped my hips in his hands and rolled them in circles, helping me to grind down on his face as he lapped at me furiously.
“Oh god oh god oh god,” I whimpered, squeezing the sheets in my fist. “Right there, oh shit!”
The onslaught of convulsions blindsided me with a wave of dizziness that simultaneously stole my breath and left me gasping. I didn’t even have a chance to fulfill his earlier request, but he seemed to have forgotten all about it as he kissed his way up my stomach. When he reached my breasts, he paused his excursion to suck each of them into his mouth.
“You’re getting a very filthy mouth,” he murmured against me.
“I don’t care,” I panted.
He grinned up at me and sat back on his heels, looking deep in thought for a moment.
“What are you doing?”
“Just thinking about how I want to take you,” he said. “I always feel like I’m crushing you now.”
“You’re not.” I reached for his hand and squeezed. “But you could take me from behind if you want.”
He grinned down at me and stood up, pulling my hips towards the edge of the bed. “I could, but I want to look at you,” he said. “I want to see your face the first time I slide inside of you as your husband.”
It was my turn to moan. Those words were definitely the most erotic thing he’d ever said.
He wrapped my legs around his waist and rubbed the head of his cock against my arousal.
“You ready?” he asked.
“I’m ready,” I agreed. “Always.”
He sank inside of me and closed his eyes for a brief moment the way he always did when he entered me. I loved that expression, and I knew I would never get enough of it.
“You good?” he asked as he rolled his hips inside of me.
“So good,” I murmured.
He leaned down and kissed me, and there was nothing frenzied about us anymore. It was unhurried and gentle. Ryland wanted to draw it out as long as he could, and I was grateful he had. I never wanted to forget this moment for all of my life.
“I’m going to come inside you, baby,” he declared. “Come inside my fucking wife.”
And with a roar, he did.
Then he leaned down and kissed me with a possessive gleam in his eyes. “Mine.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ryland
Brighton and I had been home for a little over a week. The amount of work on my desk was beyond fucking ridiculous, and I knew I’d be waist deep in it for the next two days. But the moment my email pinged from the PI in Chicago, everything else fell by the wayside. Images of Brayden filled my screen, and every vile and uncouth word I’d ever learned spewed from my mouth.
You might wonder why I hated him so much. Besides the obvious- he’d held a gun to my head and allowed my sister to die mercilessly- the boy was nothing more than a cockroach. Back in my scheming days, Brighton wasn’t the only subject of my research. If you’d ever read the Art of War or any stratagem books for that matter, there was one very important principle you should have reaped. Know your opponent. Simple, really. Much simpler when you have the resources to fund such ventures and grease a few palms along the way. For my plan to work, I had to be well versed on the inner workings of the entire Gallo circle. Brayden included.
What I’d unraveled about him in my research was nothing short of what I’d expect of Frankie’s son. Calling into question the whole nature versus nurture debacle, it seemed nature had won out in these circumstances. I’d venture a guess that Brighton had been kept in the dark on a few things concerning her brother. It certainly wasn’t my place to tell her. As much as I liked to skew the cards in my favor, I wouldn’t do it that way.
Brayden had a penchant for taking things which didn’t belong to him. After a spate of break-ins and small time robberies in his neighborhood, the police brought him in for questioning at the tender age of ten. It doesn’t take long to conclude what Norma would’ve done in these circumstances. Calling in his absentee father to play the role of bad cop was probably what she had in mind.
She should’ve known Brayden’s proclivities would only do his father proud. Over the years he progressed to other petty crimes. Eventually even working his way up to wheeling and dealing for Alfredo’s henchmen. Curiosity had me questioning how exactly Frankie weaseled him into the fold. There was no way he’d ever admit ownership over a Mick. Or at least, he hadn’t, until he’d thrown both his children under the bus in a last ditch effort to save himself.
Either way, Alfredo had never met him directly. No small feat, considering how selective the man was of his crew. But apparently, Frankie had some authority in the matter and grandfathered him in on his word alone. It was a decision that ended up costing him his life and left an ever present countdown on his children’s.
Had I been in Brayden’s shoes, it was difficult to imagine what I would’ve done. To his credit, he’d kept a roof over Brighton’s head for many years when Norma couldn’t possibly. But I couldn’t abide by his decisions to fall in line with his piece of shit father.
This was his second chance. An opportunity to set his head straight and pat himself on the back for lessons learned. But do you think he could manage that?
I’ll give you one craptastic guess.
He’d taken a meeting with Frankie’s wife, which could only mean one thing. He wanted in. She was the only contact he had for Frankie’s boss Alfredo. And he hadn’t a fucking clue of the hive he was about to disrupt.
While Maria Gallo had given a first class performance on playing the grieving widow, in truth she hated Frankie’s guts. She was glad to see him dead and would be equally delighted to see his bastard spawn dead too.
But just like everyone else in this world, she had a price. She was another name on my long list of yearly installments. Her careless indifference on this matter was bought and paid for to the tune of a hundred grand thus far. And while she might have been a money hungry scab, she wasn’t stupid. Maria knew when to keep her mouth shut, and when to talk.
And Brayden tumbling head first into her world would leave her no other choice. No amount of money in the world would salvage her life if Alfredo Zucco found out she’d betrayed him. She hadn’t a clue about our agreement, but even if she had, it wouldn’t stop her from singing like a canary in this instance. It’d been a carefully balanced juggling act to keep all of them content this long. Leave it to Brayden to come in and ignite the fuse.
On my part, there wouldn’t be an ounce of sleep lost when he buried himself in a dumpster. But now his decisions were going to affect Brighton. My wife.
Which left me fuck all choice.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Brighton
Something was up with Ryland, and I didn’t like it one bit. Now here we stood, the familiar pull of lies and secrets threatening to burst the perfect bubble we’d created.
“What kind of business trip?” I pushed.
He looked frustrated with my questions, but I didn’t care.
“I’m pregnant now,” I said. Yeah, I was playing that card. “You can’t just go running all over the country without telling me where you’re going to be.”
“Brighton,” he sighed and pulled me into his arms. “Believe me, this is the last thing I want to do. I want to be here, buried deep inside of you, but I can’t.”
“Tell me where you’re going,” I insisted. “You’re my husband now. We’re no
t supposed to have any secrets.”
He looked guilty, and it only made me more suspicious.
“If I tell you, you’re going to assume the worst,” he said.
“I won’t,” I promised. “Just tell me.”
He zipped up his suitcase and sighed. “I have to go to Chicago.”
“Oh.”
Instantly, I had a million questions running through my mind. He was right. I was assuming the worst, and I hated that. I didn’t want to.
“For business,” I clarified.
“Yes.” He looked away. “It’s just some old, unresolved issues. Some checks that need to be cashed, things like that.”
I didn’t know the nature of Ryland’s business so I couldn’t say one way or another if he was lying. But I highly suspected he wasn’t telling me the full truth. I knew his dad worked out of Chicago, and they often flew back and forth from California to Illinois. I hoped that maybe it had something to do with that. But I promised Ryland I was going to trust him, and that’s exactly what I needed to do.
“Okay.” I frowned. “And you’ll come back as soon as you can?”
“The minute I can,” he agreed. “I’m out of there.”
He bent down and kissed my belly and then back up to kiss my lips. “Take care of our baby, baby.”
I smiled in spite of myself. “Come back to me. Soon.”
“Always,” he promised.
***
Before Ryland left, he’d asked Nicole to come up and stay with me. I didn’t need babysitting, but I was glad she was there. It had been a while since we’d spent time together with just the two of us. We ordered takeout and took up residence on the sofa, watching nothing but romance movies for six hours straight. Even still, we were both on edge, and I knew what my reasons were, but not hers.
Finally, I reached for the remote and paused the TV. “What’s up, Nicole?”
