by Shanna Bell
Franco looked caught when he saw her. “It’s none of your fucking business whom I fuck,” he snarled.
“And I couldn’t care less, if you weren’t married to my sister. Sadly, you are.”
The blonde had frozen, an unsure look passing on her face as to whether she should stay or go.
Franco made a step toward her, trying to get in her face, but suddenly his demeanor changed. In fact, it changed so fast, Jazzy almost got a whiplash. She followed his gaze to the point over her shoulder.
Gio stood behind her. When he put a hand on the small of her back, for some reason, she relaxed.
“Problem, Caruso?”
Franco cleared his throat. “No problem. I was just wishing my sister-in-law a long and happy marriage. Gave her some pointers, you know. About how to keep her husband happy.”
After a wink, which infuriated her, he straightened his dress jacket and went back into the living room.
“Um, I should probably—” the blonde stammered, trying to follow back inside as well.
“Hold it right there.” She might not be able to do something about the lowlife that married her sister, but this bimbo, who apparently had no problem fucking a married man at a wedding, was another thing. “Judging by the lack of surprise on your face when I mentioned Franco is married, I’m guessing you knew you were screwing with a married man.”
The blonde turned crimson and gripped her clutch, as if she needed something to hold onto for support.
“If I ever see you anywhere around him again, I will kick your ass. Now, get the hell out of my house.” Jazzy didn’t look back to see Gio’s reaction at her kicking his guest out. There was a chance of him picking the blonde’s side. After all, this was his house; Jazzy hadn’t even had a proper tour yet. He might call her on the fact that she didn’t have the right to throw out anyone.
When the blonde looked at Gio with a hint of ill-concealed longing in her eyes, Jazzy’s anxiety level reached a spike.
“You’ve heard my wife, Lisa. Get out.”
When Lisa slithered away to the coat room, Jazzy turned to Gio. She was about to thank him, when he swept her off her feet and carried her back up the stairs.
“Threshold,” he said, as he took her inside their bedroom.
CHAPTER 11
JAZZY
Jazzy hadn’t expected Gio to go all traditional on her, carrying her over the threshold and softly placing her before their bed. It was only now that she noticed the sparsely-lit candles and rose petals on the bed. Someone had gone through the trouble to spruce the place up, make it look like a honeymoon suite, complete with a bottle of champagne on the nightstand.
“This bedroom is fucking Switzerland,” he said out of the blue. No need to explain; she wasn’t supposed to drag their shit in here.
Now that she was alone with him, she wasn’t sure how to act. Obviously, she knew what was coming, since it was their wedding night, and really, she would be the worst kind of hypocrite if she denied wanting to have sex with him. Still, part of her was unsure what was going to happen. Would he be gentle, passionate, or an absolute beast, out of revenge for her fleeing him. She just didn’t know, because she didn’t know him. This, and a million other thoughts, sped through her mind as she sat on the edge of the bed. She was kind of left at his mercy, and she didn’t like that feeling one bit.
Jazzy looked up when she realized she was staring at his feet. Gio lifted her up from the bed and turned her around, sweeping her long curls over one shoulder. Slowly, he started to unbutton her dress.
Suddenly, she felt ecstatic that the vintage dress had a million tiny buttons in the back. After the first two, she heard him curse and she couldn’t keep her smile in. With that, a part of her nerves calmed.
“Find that funny, do you, bella?”
There was no anger in his voice. “I do,” she admitted.
He let go of fiddling with the buttons and grabbed her hips, pulling her back against his chest. Even through all the layers of her dress, she could feel his heat. Giovanni Detta was hot, both in a figurative way of speech, as well as in the literal sense.
He started dotting her shoulder with kisses, making her melt against his much larger frame. Her head ended up in the crook of his neck. He put one arm around her middle, holding her steady, while the other went to the top of her bodice. With one pull, he ripped open the top, making her breasts spill out of her dress. A beat later, she stepped out of her wedding gown, leaving her in nothing but thigh high silk stockings and a tiny slip. He turned her to face him.
His eyes were dark and simmering with lust.
“Oh, how long I have waited for this moment.”
As had she, though she would never admit it. Also, all she managed to get out was another moan because his hand found her nipple. His finger was circling the bud, pulling it, to make it longer and hard.
When he pinched her nipple, hard, she couldn’t stop a hiss.
This time, it was him chuckling. “You like that, don’t you? A bite of pain.”
It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t bother to lie to him by denying it.
All it took was one look into his eyes to see the promise of a long and rough night in bed with him.
He took both her breasts in his hands, lavishing them with attention; kissing them, nuzzling them, and making her hiss when he bit the tops, and then licked them to ease the pain. By the end of his exploration, she was panting like crazy. This slow burn was going to kill her.
“There it is,” he said.
“Where is what?” She had difficulty speaking in a coherent sentence, her mind scattered all over the place by a lust overdose.
“The same look you had when you were underneath me in the library. That look that says you want me to fuck you.”
She wanted to protest, ‘cause really, he was already too full of himself, when he pushed his tongue inside her mouth, effectively cutting her off.
When he pulled back, his breath was hot on her ear. “I ever see you looking at another man like that, I’ll take him out. Now, undress me.”
Her hands were shaking when she reached for his belt, unhooking it. With one pull, she tugged his dress pants down, kneeling at his feet to take them off. Her eyes darted to the impressive bulge that came into her view. Her mouth watered at the thought of taking him inside her. Into her wet mouth, her throbbing pussy.
He grabbed her by her hair and slowly pulled her up.
“There will be time for that later. First, it’s my turn to play.”
He placed a hand on her chest and pushed her backward until her calves hit the bed.
“Lie on your back and put your hands above your head, against the headboard,” he ordered.
She did as he asked. For now. She could give him that. Obedience. Something she wasn’t familiar with, but a bet was a bet. He’d found her. She’d lost.
“Don’t get used to this,” she hissed, as he loomed over her and roughly pulled her nipple.
“Used to what? Fucking you? Oh, but I plan to.”
He put a pillow under her ass, spreading her legs, wide. Then he draped himself over her, his eyes on her slip. He ripped it off her, as if it offended him. With the way Jazzy was going through new panties, Samantha might get a new call soon.
All thoughts of buying lingerie left her brain when Gio pushed a thick finger inside her, deep, without any warning. He pumped inside her, one, two, three times, and then added two more fingers, filling her up. She could feel her moisture dripping lower, to her crack.
When she arched her back, unintentionally closing her legs, he smacked her ass.
“Keep them wide. I won’t tell you again.”
“Or what?” She couldn’t help but meet the challenge in his eyes. Also, she genuinely wondered what he would do.
A wolfish grin appeared on his handsome face. “Or I will restrain your body so you can’t move. I will then fill your pussy, make you burn, and then refuse to let you come.”
Jazzy groaned. Why di
d that sound horrible and amazing at the same time?
“You like that idea,” he whispered.
“No, I don’t.”
“I knew you would be like this.” His voice was still soft, as if he was more talking to himself than having a conversation with her.
“Like what?”
“Adventurous.”
That’s all she got? One word? It could mean anything.
She was distracted by that thought when he got up and removed his boxer briefs. His thick cock jumped up from its confinement, pointing up. He slid next to her on the bed and pulled her on top of him until she straddled his body.
Without giving her a second to regroup, he grabbed her hips and impaled her right on his shaft. She cried out from joy and a sweet tinge of pain.
“Ride my cock. Hard.”
He didn’t give her any choice. She felt so full, so gloriously full, that her hips started to move, as if on their own. She put her hands on his shoulders, going back and forth, giving him her all, and taking her own pleasure.
He groaned and started fucking her from below with hard thrusts, while she kept riding him. Hard. Apparently, he liked that because another groan followed.
She felt his finger between them, trailing down to her pussy. A jolt of electricity went through her when he found her clit, rubbing it, circling the little bud. She let out a whimper when he pulled his finger back. The pressure inside her was building up and up, making her almost scream. Any sound that could have left her lips was smothered when he pushed up and ravaged her mouth. Taking her hard, in the same rhythm as he was fucking her, grabbing her by the hips, pushing into her from below.
She grinded her hips into him, wanting, demanding to come. When he bit her nipple one more time, she cried out. Her climax shattered her, the edges of the world going dark.
With a sigh, she fell on top of him, totally spent. Unlike, apparently, Gio, who came to lay beside her, looking totally unfazed. It took her a second to realize that, unlike her, he hadn’t come.
She frowned, reaching out to his jutting erection.
“There’s no need for that,” he said, a finger caressing the V between her eyes.
She started to get up, but he held her down. “I, um… do you want me to take care of that?” Which was a stupid question. Of course he did. What man would want to sleep with a boner like that.
“Yes, Jazzy, I would.” There was a smile to his voice. In a tone she wasn’t used to from him. Until now, he had been demanding, arrogant, and sometimes insufferable, but not… playful like this. It made her wonder who the real Giovanni Detta was.
She expected him to demand a blowjob, which she was actually looking forward to, but he surprised her again by flipping her onto her stomach.
He lifted her hips up and slammed his cock back inside her.
“Just relax and enjoy the ride, bella.”
And what a ride it was.
CHAPTER 12
JAZZY
When Jazzy woke up the next morning, it was to an empty bed. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand, ready to check on her sister, when she discovered that Carmen had returned home. She had left her a message that she was doing fine—which Jazzy found hard to believe—and telling her to enjoy her honeymoon.
So much for a honeymoon when your husband left you to fend for yourself on the morning after your wedding. Not that she had really expected for them to act like newlyweds. After all, they were forced together by circumstances, but it still hurt that Gio hadn’t even bothered to stay in bed with her.
After a quick shower, she went searching for some clothes and discovered that her clothes had already been brought over. Someone had even cleared out space in the closet and dresser for her. She put on some jeans and a T-shirt and headed downstairs.
There were people in the hallway, removing decorations that still lingered from the wedding the night before. There was no trace of Gio. In the living room, she was greeted by a burly woman in a gray dress and an even grayer bun.
“Good morning, Mrs. Detta.”
Right, that’s me now. “Morning.”
The woman gave her a tentative smile. “I am Thea, your housekeeper. Your breakfast is ready. Please follow me.”
Jazzy’s stomach made a growling sound when she smelled fresh baked bread. She took a seat at the lavishly set kitchen table while Thea poured her fresh orange juice.
“Nice to meet you, Thea. And thank you, but you don’t have to tend to me like that. Really, I’m perfectly capable of pouring my own juice.” She ended with a smile as to soften her words.
Judging by Thea’s smile, she wasn’t insulted in the least. “I will return after your breakfast and show you your new home, Mrs. Detta.”
Jazzy winced. She wasn’t used to this “Mrs.” stuff. The housekeeper at home had been there since she was a little kid, and none of them were ever formal. It just felt weird. “Could you please call me by my name, Thea? Jocelyn; or Jazzy, for short.”
Another smile and then a nod followed.
“So, um, did you see my husband this morning?”
“Yes. After breakfast, he retreated to the library for a meeting with his brothers.”
In a meeting, huh? Well, if he didn’t want to join her for breakfast, she sure wasn’t going to ask him.
She looked up when Thea slid her an envelope. Before she could ask her about it, the woman had left.
Jazzy opened the envelope, not sure what to expect. When she saw the black American Express card, she was speechless for a second. Then her muteness changed into rage, which eventually turned into a plan. She had to keep in mind that Gio was rich. Obscenely rich. A man like him expected his wife to spend his money, and lots of it too, apparently. Gina, for example, would all but expect a Centurion card from her husband. So maybe she shouldn’t be surprised that Gio had put her in the same class as her cousin. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
After she had some delicious blueberry pancakes, Jazzy decided not to wait for Thea, but take a tour around her new home herself. It was bigger than the Rossi mansion, with more bedrooms than she could count, a dining room, a parlor, classic wood paneling, and a vast private garden in the back.
When she encountered Thea again—this time, while she was dusting the cabinets in the living room—she learned that Gio had moved over here just a month ago. Another thing she discovered was that the house hadn’t been turned into a winter wonderland just for the wedding: it was the default décor. The interior designer obviously loved the colors white and creme, since she had basically turned the house into a barren winter landscape. The only color and imagination Jazzy had come across so far, was the colorful abstract artwork in the bedrooms. The place lacked any kind of character, which was a shame because the Victorian had the potential to be a real, cozy home, complete with brick walls and a fireplace and all.
The only personal touch was a family picture above the chimney. The resemblance between Gio and his brothers was unmistakable. They all had the same piercing blue eyes. Save for Hector, of course, who was included in the frame as well. His eyes were a moss green.
Having explored enough for the day, Jazzy went into the hallway to get her coat when the doorbell rang.
Thea was there in an instant, opening the door. “Hello, can I help you, Miss?” she asked, stepping back to let the visitor in.
A tall blonde with a Louis Vuitton suitcase sailed past the housekeeper. “Somebody needs to pay the cab,” she announced, without a how-do-you-do. After giving Jazzy a curt onceover, her cat-eyed sunglasses pinned Thea down. “You. I want an espresso. Make it a double.”
“I…” Thea gave Jazzy a helpless look.
The blonde dropped her bag and put her glasses on her head. She looked around curiously, which made Jazzy suspect she hadn’t been here before.
“Where’s Gio? Oh, never mind. I want to surprise him. Take my bag to his room.”
“Please.” Jazzy slowly pronounced the word, introducing the woman to it.
A perfectly trimmed, cocked brow was her answer. “Excuse me?”
“Excuse me could work as well, but I was going for ‘please.’ You know, the word you use when asking someone to do something for you.”
“Cute. Obviously, you don’t know who I am.”
Sadly, Jazzy had a feeling she did. She just wasn’t sure how to act on it yet. No woman expected to have to deal with her husband’s lover in her home the day after her wedding, if ever.
Still, she said, “Not only don’t I know who you are, but I don’t care.” Which was true. “And Thea over there—yes, she has a name—isn’t your maid, so you’ll have to make your own damn espresso.”
The blonde put her hands on her slim hips. “I am Vanessa Montgomery. Giovanni’s girlfriend.”
“Nice to meet you, Vanessa. I’m Jocelyn Detta.” She hadn’t decided on whether to use his last name yet. Guess this was as good a time as any to make that decision.
“Ah. His sister?” Vanessa’s demeanor changed in a flash when a smile lit up her face as she put on her “meet the family” mask.
Copying Vanessa’s fake smile, Jazzy looked her right in the eye. “No. His wife.”
CHAPTER 13
GIO
Gio studied some documents Jackson had handed over to him, but his mind kept drifting off. It had been a strange experience waking up next to a woman. A new, though not unpleasant, one. Jazzy had been plastered all over his chest, one knee draped over him, her head tucked under his chin. It hadn’t been easy to pry her off of him without waking her up. Not wanting to leave his bed at sunrise was another new experience. His body hadn’t wanted to leave her, but he forced himself to get out, nonetheless. He had already woken her up twice during the night, enjoying her cries when he took her. She was loud in bed and so responsive. So damn responsive.
He couldn’t let himself get distracted by her. He was head of this family and had certain obligations. Destroying the fucker’s life who’d murdered their parents, for starters. Jocelyn would become a distraction if he spent time with her. He couldn’t allow anyone or anything to come between avenging his parents. He had already lost control with her last night, his need for her seemingly insatiable. It couldn’t happen again. Not during the day when he had to fucking concentrate on the decline and fall of Oscar Bianchi.
