Dr. Orgasm (A Holiday Romance Collection Book 2)

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Dr. Orgasm (A Holiday Romance Collection Book 2) Page 33

by Michelle Love

God, what a fucking mess. The horror at seeing Luna Rosenbaum, her blue eyes staring, half her head missing … what the fuck had happened? Raffaelo felt both rage and sympathy for Olly—had he put his sister up to this? In his heart, he knew he hadn’t, but God …

  “I’m going to call Tyler.” Tommaso’s voice broke into his reverie. “He should hear this from me, not the police.”

  “Good idea.”

  Tommaso pulled out his phone, but before he could call Tyler, the doctor came in. “She’ll be fine,” he said, nodding to them. “Both bullets went straight through with no major damage. Her arm suffered a slight fracture but it won’t even need a cast.”

  Raffaelo frowned. “I thought she was shot three times.”

  The doctor shook his head. “The wound to the head was a deflection—she raised her arm like this.” He demonstrated, raising his arm in front of his face. “The perpetrator aimed at her face, and her arm got in the way. It saved her. From the trajectory, the second bullet would have hit her in the forehead and probably killed her.”

  Raffaelo tasted bile then and saw Tommaso wince. “Will she need surgery?”

  “Minor, just to close the wounds. We’ll take her into surgery in a few moments. Would you like to see her before we take her down?”

  Inca was still drowsy from the sedative, but the blood on her face had been cleaned up and butterfly stitches across the graze on her temple. Raffaelo couldn’t help but see what the doctor had described, a bullet hole smashed into her lovely forehead, her dark eyes open and sightless.

  She’s alive; she’s here …

  He waited until Tommaso had bent down to kiss her before leaning in. “Ti amo,” he whispered in her ear as he kissed her cheek. He was aware of a female police officer, a doctor, and a nurse in the room; the last thing they needed now was to have the secret of their relationship out in the open. He didn’t think Inca could survive any more pain.

  Inca nodded at them both. “Love you,” she whispered, and her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t understand why Luna did it … why?”

  She began to cry quietly, and Tommaso sat beside her, his arm wrapped around her. Raffaelo was heartsick. He wanted to be able to comfort her like that, declaring his love publicly.

  God, is that what you’re thinking of at a time like this?

  But Raffaelo knew that his love for Inca was becoming his reason for being, his whole life. He would give everything to be with her.

  “They’re going to take you down soon, but the docs say you could be out in a couple of days.”

  Inca nodded. “Will you call Tyler? Tell him not to come back here because of this. Tell him to stay there, stay safe—at least until the funeral … Mom’s funeral, that is. After that, please, both of you, can we just go to Italy? I don’t want to be here anymore, don’t want to be here …” She began to sob.

  She sounded so depressed, so scared, and so devastated that it broke Raffaelo’s heart. He saw Tommaso blink away tears. Raffaelo leaned forward and took her hand. “Of course, we can leave, mio caro. We’ll make all the arrangements. Just concentrate on getting well. We’ll leave as soon as you’re physically able.”

  Inca squeezed his hands. “Thank you, Raff. Thank you, Tommaso …”

  Nancy’s funeral was attended by most of the townsfolk. Inca clutched Tyler’s hand tightly, guilt making her chest ache. She felt the eyes of the congregation on her—judging? Blaming? I’m so sorry, Mom. I love you. She felt a hand on the back of her neck, comforting. Raffaelo. He and Tommaso had helped carry Nancy’s casket into the little church. Hunter, Knox and a friend of Tyler’s, Jim, had also helped Tyler as pallbearers.

  Olly wasn’t there. He had apologized to Tyler with a phone call and told him he wasn’t ready to see Inca yet. Tyler had reassured him that they understood, but that was another layer of guilt for Inca.

  God.

  The medical examiner hadn’t yet released Luna’s body, but she knew that when he did, Olly would not want her at Luna’s funeral.

  Whatever you need, old friend.

  She sighed. Knox looked over at her and gave her a reassuring smile. She tried to smile back, but just shook her head. Knox had been attentive since the shooting—she was grateful, but she knew Tommaso and Raffaelo were getting annoyed at his constant presence.

  “Does he think we can’t protect you?”

  She thought about that now, staring over at the Sound. So much loss. She brushed a tear away. Boomer came wandering around the corner and shuffled over to her, sticking his nose into her hand for a fuss.

  “Hello.” She was surprised. “Who let you out?”

  “I did. I thought he needed a run.” Raffaelo followed Boomer around the corner. “Hope that’s okay?”

  She smiled and nodded. Raffaelo sat down next to her, pulled his tie apart, and undid his collar. He winked at her, reaching out and running his hand lightly down the back of her head. She leaned into his touch.

  “How are you, bella?”

  She nodded again. “Okay. What about you?”

  “Same.” He gave her a sad smile. “It was a beautiful service.”

  “Least I could do.” Her voice had a catch in it.

  Raffaelo frowned and leaned his face closer to hers. “Hey.” She looked at him. He put his head on the side and smiled. “It’s not your fault.” He slid his hand onto the back of her neck. There were tears in her eyes.

  “How can it not be, Raff? My name cut into her and the other victims. Why doesn’t he just kill me?”

  Raffaelo winced. “Please, bella. Please stop saying that. I can’t bear it. The thought of you dying … it would kill me.”

  “Hey. I thought I’d find you hiding out here. Hi, Raffaelo.” Knox pushed the back door open. Inca turned and smiled at him. Raffaelo ignored him, smirking when Boomer started to growl.

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Knox cleared his throat. “Some of your guests are leaving, Inca.”

  Raffaelo looked round at the other man and gave him a cold stare. Inca began to stand up, but Raffaelo pulled her down.

  “I’m sure they’ll find their way to the front door.” Raffaelo’s tone was frosty. “Inca’s done enough for the day. And they’re Tyler’s guests too, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  Knox stared back at him, eyes narrowed. “Inca?”

  Inca sighed. “It’s okay, Knox. They’ll find me if they want me. If not …”

  “As you wish.” Knox turned and went back into the house.

  “Jerk.”

  For once, Inca agreed with Raffaelo. Today, Knox felt more like an intruder. His presence had been irksome, his ability to always be there when she turned around, irritating her.

  She looked at Raffaelo, sleek in his dark suit, and smiled.

  “You look handsome in a suit.”

  He grinned, cocky. “Oh, I know.”

  She laughed. Boomer, who had been lying patiently on the grass, got up and gave a little woof. Despite Raffaelo’s initial wariness of the dog, they’d become good friends.

  “I’m actually going to miss this little monster when we go to Italy. Sure you don’t want to bring him?”

  “I do, but I don’t want to put him through that flight. Besides, Tyler wants to take him back to Connecticut.”

  “Shame.”

  She sighed and held her hand out to Raffaelo. “Come with me and help walk this pooch?”

  “Yes ma’am.” He took her hand, winding his fingers through hers. They walked down to the cove, the full moon lighting their way.

  Olly stood at the edge of the woods, watching Inca and Raffaelo walking along the little jetty. He watched them walked to the end of it, both of them looking around to make sure they weren’t seen. Then, to Olly’s shock, he watched Raffaelo Winter take her in his arms, slide his hands into her hair, and kiss her.

  Olly’s jaw tightened, and he slipped away from the scene before getting into his car. So, Inca was cheating on Tommaso with Raffaelo? He had to admit, he was shocked … stunned, act
ually. To say it was out of character for Inca to be unfaithful was an understatement—or so he had thought. An idea occurred to him then, one he couldn’t shake. And so, when he saw the Winters and Inca leave, hugging Tyler goodbye, he followed them home—at a decent interval, of course.

  The Winters’ security was laughably easy to get past. Olly walked around the perimeter of the house, checking in all of the windows. At first, all was dark and quiet. Then he saw the flicker of firelight from a large window at the rear of the property. He edged to the window and peered in. As he watched the three of them, he began to both smile and shake his head.

  Inca was fucking both of them—or rather, from the looks of it, they were fucking her, both absorbed in pleasuring Inca’s beautiful body. Olly couldn’t stop staring at them; the three of them were so gloriously good-looking that it was almost hypnotic to watch. Olly felt himself getting hard and turned away, making his way back down the grounds.

  “Hey!”

  One of the security guards had spotted him and was running towards him. Olly sighed. He had his gun, but he didn’t want to start any trouble. Instead, he got his badge out. “Police. Just following up a report of an intruder.”

  The security guard looked skeptical, but allowed Olly to leave. Olly drove back into town, deep in thought. Did the killer know about Inca and the Winters? Was Nancy’s murder a punishment for that? Kevin Harnett was still in jail, and now that Nancy had been murdered, it made no sense that Harnett was the serial killer; from talking to him, Olly had surmised that his only goal had been to kill Inca for leaving him. He didn’t possess the knowledge or means to escape justice if he was behind the other murders.

  Olly parked next to the police station and sat in his car.

  Like a cancer.

  He kept replaying Luna’s words in his mind. He still couldn’t believe that his sister had died, let alone shot Inca. They had grown up together … was Luna right? Was Inca to blame?

  No.

  Even in his grief, he knew she had done nothing to bring this down on them. It was the work of a mad man, a psychopath.

  He just hoped the killer wouldn’t get to live out his sick dream. Olly hoped beyond hope that Inca would be safe.

  The town seemed subdued, still, the week after Nancy’s funeral. When Inca took Boomer to the country park on Monday morning, she noticed no one else walking their dogs, no kids sledging in the snow. With a jolt, she realized that the whole island was mourning the loss of one of its own. She let the dog off the leash and walked slowly across the park to the beach, sitting on one of the large pieces of driftwood. The water, unusually calm, was an emerald mirror. Boomer bounded gleefully into it and Inca laughed, brought out of her reverie by the dog’s antics. She glanced around her. No one else was on the beach.

  In a few days, she would leave with Raffaelo and Tommaso for Italy, for sun, for heat, for escape. Tyler and Boomer would be in Connecticut—and there would be nothing left for her here. Would she ever come back? Her thoughts drifted to Olly and she felt sadness settle on her heart. Would they ever find their way back as friends?

  The thought that they might not brought tears to her eyes, and when Boomer came to check on his mistress, she hugged him to her and buried her hot tears in his fur.

  Sorrento, now…

  And now she was here, her physical injuries almost healed, but still hurting inside for what had happened. More than that, she was angry. Angry at Kevin for tormenting her all those years; angry at Olly for playing fast and loose with her heart; angry at Luna …

  Angry at herself. Had Luna been right? Was her perceived beauty a cancer? Was she really responsible for Kevin’s actions? Olly’s?

  No.

  She knew she wasn’t. It disgusted her that she was judged merely on her physical attributes.

  I’m more than someone’s idea of beauty, she thought savagely.

  What she would take responsibility for, though, was her acceptance of the strange relationship between her and the Winter twins. Because it was odd, she knew that, and she knew she was being careless with both of their hearts. If their love for her caused a rift between them, she would never forgive herself.

  A cool breeze blew in through the open window, and she shivered, but enjoyed the sensation on her hot skin. She heard voices in the hallway and looked up to see Raffaelo push open the door. Tommaso was behind him, and she smiled at them.

  “Hey, how was the meeting?”

  “Long and deathly dull,” Raffaelo said, pulling off his tie.

  Tommaso grinned.

  “He’s not wrong, Principessa. How was your evening?”

  Inca slid off the window and padded barefoot to them. “Lonely.”

  Raffaelo smiled down at her, bending to kiss her. “I think we can do something about that. What do you say, Tommaso?”

  Tommaso’s fingers were already at the zipper of her dress, pulling it slowly down to kiss the length of her spine. Inca shivered with pleasure as Raffaelo’s lips found her throat.

  “I think, mio caro, I need to shower first. Would you care to join us?”

  In the shower, Raffaelo kissed her thoroughly, while Tommaso, his face buried in her sex, teased and tasted her, nipping her clit with his teeth until her legs shook. Then he stood, his smile wide, his eyes lazy with desire.

  “Fuck her, Raff. Fuck her hard.”

  God, when he did that, Inca felt herself growing wetter and wetter. Raffaelo picked her up and carried her, still dripping with water, to the bed and pulled her on top of him. Raffaelo, his cock purple with blood and huge, thrust into her. Inca clawed her fingers into his back as she cried out and Tommaso moved behind her so he could enter her from behind.

  They found their rhythm easily, so practiced were they now at this game. After they’d all come, they would begin the kinkier games—the brothers dominating her entirely, tying her up, taking their turns to fuck her. Inca reveled in the lovemaking; it had freed something inside of her, something wild and uninhibited and wanton. At the end of the evening, Tommaso would ask for his favorite thing; he liked to watch Raffaelo and Inca fuck while he jerked off. Inca would lie under Raffaelo as he moved inside her, watching both his beautiful face as he moaned with pleasure, and then Tommaso, his eyes alive with lust as he watched them.

  When they fell asleep was when she felt most secure, held by both of them, loved by both of them. For her, since they had been in this beautiful country, she had found where she belonged. During the night, just before dawn, she might wake or be woken by one of them, and they would make love gently. Lovingly.

  It was Raff who woke her this morning, his lips against hers. He slid inside her and they moved together slowly, their gaze intense on each other.

  “I love you so much,” she whispered, and he smiled, kissing her.

  “Il mio amore,” he said softly and stroked her hair away from her face. Inca bit into his shoulder to muffle the cry of her orgasm, a mellow, intense thing, and they lay back. Beside them, Tommaso slept soundly, and Inca ran a fingertip over a frown line between his eyes.

  “Is he okay?”

  Raffaelo sighed. “I’m not sure. Inca, there is something you should know about Tommaso; he’s very sensitive.”

  Inca looked at him in horror. “Oh God, do you think …”

  Raff smiled, hushing her with his mouth. “Not about this. Not about us. You’ve seen how he is; he loves this whole situation. No, what I meant was … we’re here in Italy, where we both want to be. The only thing is—our father is here too. He and Tommaso do not have the best relationship.”

  “Why?”

  Raffaelo hesitated. “That’s not for me to tell you—I just know that when our father comes here—and he will come here—Tommaso will need both of us to get through it.”

  Inca nodded, her eyes fierce. “He’s got us, Raff. I won’t let your father hurt him.”

  Raff kissed her. “I know you won’t.”

  Inca looked over at her sleeping lover. “Sometimes, he seems so much
younger than you,” she said softly. “And yet other times, he’s so …”

  “Bossy?”

  She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “Yes.” She giggled and Raff joined in, shaking the bed so that Tommaso opened one eye.

  “I’m trying to sleep, rompicoglioni,” he grumbled, which only made Inca laugh harder. She stroked her fingers through his messy curls.

  “Come join us, beautiful boy,” she said in a low purr. Tommaso grinned and pulled her down on top of him, her back to his chest.

  “Let me in,” he murmured into her ear and she gasped as he thrust into her ass, his fingers locked over her belly. He nodded to his brother. “Take her, Raff.”

  Raffaelo grinned and moved so he could plunge his cock into her cunt. Inca sighed happily as they fucked her … God … would she ever get tired of this?

  She loved when they went out into the city together to hang out at one of the cafes or visit the bar at one of Raff’s clubs. Walking through the streets, arm-in-arm with them both, she would look at people staring at them and wonder if they could tell she was having both of the beautiful men at her side. That she loved being fucked hard and long by both of them; that she would do and try anything with them.

  That she had never been so happy in her life. Here, in this glorious city, she could forget the horrors back home and bury her head in the sand about the fact that more than one person had tried—and failed—to kill her. She could forget that she would have to go back to face her adoptive father, her friends … Olly.

  Olly’s devastation at Luna’s suicide knew no bounds. He had refused to see Inca, and she knew he blamed her for his sister’s death. He and Tommaso had nearly come to blows when Tommaso demanded that a thorough investigation be made into whether Olly had put Luna up to it. She’d used their dad’s old service revolver—a gun that Olly had thought safely locked up in his gun cabinet. It was the same gun used to kill Scarlett.

  “What a fucking mess,” Knox had said to Raffaelo when they’d dragged the two men apart, and Raff had hauled Tommaso out to his waiting car and told him to stay there. Raffaelo sighed and apologized to Knox.

 

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