Submitting in Vegas: (Vegas Morellis, #3)

by Sam Mariano

  Then the other crucial part of what he just said sinks in, and I am lost. “Wait, what? You sent Felix? Felix is a cop. A cop who hates you, specifically.”

  Rafe nods patiently. “He was a cop. I wasn’t lying about that. He did hate me, didn’t lie about that, either. The part I lied about was not being able to get to him before he fled after Skylar’s party. We picked him up at the restaurant. He knew he was in deep shit. While he doesn’t like me, and he wasn’t in a position to work for me and remain on the local police force… well, he was in a position to take his get-out-of-jail-free card, some of my money, and peace out to Ibiza or some shit.”

  I point my finger at him, trying to wrap my head around everything he’s telling me. “Don’t steal my drunk girl lines. What the fuck are you saying to me right now? You set me up?”

  “Yes. Well, I tested your loyalty. Those were the words I would have used. It’s not my move, but it has proven effective in other situations, so I… borrowed it. My version was less emotionally torturous and I was actually rooting for you to pass, so maybe I could get some brownie points.”

  My eyes widen. “Brownie points for lying to me for weeks, scaring the bejeezus out of me, tapping my phone, making me feel horrible for not helping Felix—should I go on? I can.”

  “Okay, maybe no brownie points,” he allows. “I know it wasn’t a nice thing to put you through, but I needed to know for sure that when it came down to it, you would stay on my side and not flip. I believed in you, Virginia. I did. I didn’t want to believe… but after Rex and Adrian found those tapes in your apartment, I had to know I hadn’t been fooled again. I believed you would pass the test and stay on my side, but I had to know beyond a shadow of a doubt what you would do if the opportunity arose. I’m sorry.”

  My mind is in overdrive as I try to keep up, to organize all my confusion and prioritize the most important. “So, Felix is not in trouble?”

  Rafe shakes his head. “Felix agreed to help me, so he gets a nice payoff instead of a dirt nap. He’s going to relocate to a beach and be just fine. I figured that would make you happy,” he adds, watching my face.

  “It does, but I can’t believe Felix agreed to help you trick me. He hates you and likes me.”

  “He does,” Rafe agrees. “But he likes breathing more than he likes you, and hates dying more than he hates me, and out of all the options I gave him, there was only one that gave all of us what we wanted.”

  Shoving him in the arm, I say, “Everyone but me, you mean.”

  “You get everything you want, you just couldn’t be privy to the knowledge until now,” he tells me. “No one was permanently hurt. You still love me, right? Felix is alive and well, isn’t he? He’s not a cop anymore, but he can tend bar on a beach in Cabo or wherever the fuck. On the upside of not immediately shooting him in the face, getting Felix to talk was helpful. He assures me he was the only undercover guy they had on me—though we’ll have to be more diligent about that, going forward. You can help me out with that.”

  “Oh, can I?”

  Digging one of his rarer moves out of his arsenal, the one he saves for when he really needs to turn my knees to jelly, Rafe shoots me a puppy dog look that sucks me back to the first time he wielded it. My heart swells, my tummy tightens, and then the rogue leans in and steps it up a notch.

  “You want to keep your husband safe, don’t you?” he asks, his tone smooth and sure. His hand lands on my knee, then slides slowly up under my pretty white dress as he caresses my thigh. His scent wafts around me, pulling me under. He slides a long, elegant finger inside me and I let my head fall back against the booth cushion as he caresses me with his words. “You are my best friend, Virginia. You’re not the woman I ever expected myself to fall in love with, but isn’t it just like you to know what I need before I do?” He smiles at that, and I can’t help smiling back. “Marriage wasn’t in my plans, but I am so happy I married you. I could not have picked a more perfect woman to spend my life with. I can’t promise I’ll ever be a perfect husband, but I promise I’ll always do my best to make you happy.”

  I sigh, shifting as he toys with my pussy. I loop one arm around his neck to hold him close, and brush a soft kiss across his lips. “You do make me happy.”

  “And I want you to be able to trust me,” he adds. “I swear I won’t manipulate you like this again. I had to this time, but I don’t like that shit, I really don’t. That’s how you treat opponents, not partners. Well, it’s how I treat opponents, not partners.”

  I smile, pushing my fingers through his hair. “I’m your partner, huh?”

  “Always.” He withdraws his finger from between my legs, then brings it to his mouth. I blush, biting down on my lip, but this time I know it’s coming when he licks me off his finger.

  “Still better than any dessert I ever brought you?” I ask lightly.

  “Without question.”

  Sighing, I pull his mouth against mine. Like always, he takes over the kiss I started, dominating my mouth and intoxicating me with his hands in my hair and all over my body. My blood stirs and I spread my legs, pulling him between them. Thankfully there’s a lot of room in the booth. It’s a tight fit, but Rafe draws off my panties and climbs on top of me.

  I feel dangerous and daring as he unzips his pants. “Are you really going to fuck me right here?”

  “Should’ve done it a long time ago,” he says simply.

  He comes down on top of me and smothers my smile with his lips. I gasp as he pushes inside me, then wrap my legs around him and pull him deeper.

  Between kisses and pants, he teases, “Does that mean you forgive me?”

  I laugh a little, but then he thrusts hard and I have to catch my breath, reaching for the booth above me to hang on. “I do.”

  Rafe fucks me faster this time than he does when we are in bed at night. I cling to his broad shoulders and come apart beneath his powerful body. Afterward, he gathers me close, kissing me and tangling his hand in my hair. “I love you, Virginia,” he tells me.

  “I love you, too. So much.”

  “Good.” He kisses the crown of my head, keeping his arm around me but scooting a little closer to me. “Now you can have dessert.”

  I crack a smile and look over at him, holding out my hand. “May I have my panties first?”

  “Nope. I’ll be keeping those.”

  I shake my head. “Panty thief.”

  “I like my favorite toy uncovered. I might want to fuck you again on the way home. Gotta be prepared.”

  “You’re such a rog—” I freeze when I lift the dome to eat my cheesecake, and instead of dessert, there is a red ring box with Cartier inscribed on the lid.

  “Laurel also told me that she caught you looking at wedding dresses with a wistful look on your face when she went to try on hers, and I realized… I owe you a wedding.”

  My wide-eyed gaze snaps to his handsome face. “We’re already married.”

  Nodding his head, he twists the golden band on his finger. “We are. But we can do better than a quickie elopement with haunted rings from a bad marriage. You have to play bridesmaid this weekend; it’s only fair Laurel gets a chance to return the favor. You married a boss, after all. That should come with a pretty white dress.”

  I grab the red box off the plate and open it up to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring. I draw it out, lean into his arm, and hold it up in the light. “Look at that sparkle, Mr. Morelli.”

  “I did good, didn’t I?”

  I laugh and rest my head on his shoulder. “You sure did.”

  Epilogue

  Rafe

  The club is all decked out in black and gold tonight, from draped fabric, lighting, and expensive centerpieces, to the bridal party. The female half of the bridal party are currently gathered around my stunning wife, all of them dancing and singing along to Mambo Italiano. Even the kids in attendance are getting in on it. Laurel is dancing with Skylar, spinning her in her puffy little flower girl dress. Mateo’s eldest daughter
is dancing with our ring bearer, Nicholas, balanced on her hip. Every time she dips him, he laughs so hard he would fall over if she weren’t holding onto him. Carly and Mia are bumping hips with my sexy bride, and life? Life’s pretty damn good.

  Bringing a flute of champagne to my lips, I smile faintly as Virginia looks my way and waves me over.

  “Come on, come dance with us,” she calls.

  I shake my head. “You keep shaking your ass, sweetheart, I’ll keep watching.”

  Turning around to show me her pretty little ass, tightly fitted with white lace, she runs her hand slowly over that perfect curve. “This ass?”

  I shake my head at her. “Keep it up. I’ll haul you out of here caveman-style and get started on our honeymoon early.”

  She grins and wiggles her ass at me, but then she goes back to dancing with the girls before I can make good on my threat.

  The male half of the bridal party (and Adrian) are not shaking their asses, they’re filling the chairs around me. I invited Mateo, Sin, and Vince to stand up with me. Vince was certainly surprised to be included. It only seemed fair, though. I was technically his best man, since only Laurel and I witnessed their elopement. Plus, Virginia made Carly a bridesmaid, and my possessive little cousin wouldn’t have liked watching his wife walk down the aisle on the arm of another man. Probably more for that reason than any other, he agreed to it, and now he’s stuck at the bridal table with his least favorite people. Of course, with our view of the dance floor right now, there are much worse places to be.

  As all good things must, Mambo Italiano eventually ends, and a slow song starts playing. People shuffle off the dance floor, and some of our ladies come to take us. Laurel and Skylar come over to grab Sin first, dragging him out on the floor for a family dance with both his girls. Carly is naturally right behind her sister, saving Vince from our company and hauling him out on the dance floor.

  Virginia comes at me so I prepare to get up, but instead of dragging me out on the floor, she loops an arm around my neck and takes a seat on my lap, stealing my champagne flute.

  “I’m thirsty,” she announces, before taking a sip.

  “Not too much,” I remind her, settling my hand on her hip. “It’s going to be a long flight to Venice; it would be nice if you spent the trip liking me.”

  “Does alcohol make her dislike you?” Adrian questions.

  “Makes her feisty,” I answer.

  Shooting me a look, Virginia says, “Alcohol makes me feisty when I have pre-existing reasons to be annoyed at you. I’m happy with you tonight. I’ll be especially happy with you when we’re on a plane to Italy. I’m sure I could handle a little extra alcohol tonight.”

  “Let’s not test that theory,” I tell her.

  “Oh, but you love tests,” she says coyly, before taking a playfully spiteful sip of champagne.

  Mateo smirks and shifts the conversation away from my misdeeds. “Is this your first time?” he asks Virginia.

  “My first time visiting Italy? Yes. We’ll be there for two whole weeks. I’m so excited.”

  He nods distractedly, his gaze wandering back to the dance floor—probably in search of his wife, since people are shuffling and she’s obscured from his immediate view. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

  Seeing she has already lost Mateo’s attention, Virginia looks back at me. “Have you ever taken a woman to Italy before?”

  “Of course not.” I lean forward a few inches and place a dutiful kiss on a sexy swatch of her bare shoulder. “I was saving that for you.”

  She playfully narrows her eyes at me. “You didn’t even know I was coming. Don’t you lie to me, Rafe Morelli.”

  “Lie to you, Mrs. Morelli? I would never.”

  Virginia grins, taking me at my word despite my playfulness or my previous misdeeds, and I love that. I may have plenty of wealth and influence to throw around or wield over others, but without question the most valuable thing I possess is Virginia. Her love, her trust—her unwavering conviction that even though I’m a bad guy, I’m a good man. There aren’t a lot of women out there who can legitimately believe that sort of thing, and I’m lucky as hell I found one who could.

  And I would never lie to her—except when I absolutely must. Occasionally, when you’re living this life, you have to lie to your woman in order to protect her from avoidable harm.

  Like Felix. When my lovely, thoughtful wife and I are spending the second week of our honeymoon on a pristine beach in Sardinia, I’m already prepared for her to make the connection to Felix, to make some remark about how much he must be enjoying his life on some beach, somewhere. I’m even prepared in case she tries catching me off-guard with it, to watch my face for some sign of deception. I don’t think she will, because she trusts me and ultimately wants to believe Felix is safe and happy somewhere, but I can’t help remembering the way she closed her eyes the night she asked me not to cheat on her, and if I already had, not to ever let her find out. I was innocent of that transgression, so I had nothing to hide, but she closed her eyes in case I did, to protect her ability to believe me. Some women might be able to self-deceive, but once an ugly truth is locked away in Virginia’s memory, she can’t edit it to accommodate the pretty lie she needs to believe.

  That night Virginia taught me that if I absolutely need to lie about something, I must do it convincingly, or she’ll catch me. Knowing that, I’ve gone over every conceivable way it could come up, and my response to every scenario, to every spin-off question I can fathom her having. Hell, at this point, I almost believe Felix is watching co-eds shoot tequila on a beach somewhere, so if it comes up, I’ll damn sure be able to convince Virginia.

  If her common sense whispers at her that it didn’t make logical sense for me to let Felix live once I no longer had a use for him, to wastefully toss money at a potential threat and give a second chance to some asshole I didn’t even like, instead of simply letting Sin deal with him the traditional way… I’ll be ready.

  That lie, I will tell.

  I know I could tell the truth. I know Virginia would get past Felix’s death, but she would undoubtedly feel some measure of guilt for it, too. There’s no point making her endure pain I can easily shield her from.

  Never thought I’d agree with my goddamned cousin, but here we are. Maybe I’ve joined some secret husband club I never had access to before, and membership brought with it some beginner’s comprehension of the lengths you’ll go to for your woman.

  Speaking of my cousin and his woman, Mia wanders over to us now that all her dancing buddies have paired off. I expect she’ll steal Mateo away, but she stops in front of Adrian.

  “Want to dance with me? I have been abandoned by my girl squad.”

  “Am I the next best thing to a girl squad?” he inquires.

  She shrugs. “Elise isn’t here, who else are you going to dance with?”

  “Well, I have been agonizing over that question all night,” he deadpans.

  Mia ignores him, taking his hand and pulling him out of his chair. “Come on.”

  “I don’t like dancing,” he complains, as he lets her drag him out on the floor.

  Not that I especially care, but my curiosity compels me to ask, “Why isn’t his wife here again?”

  “Someone had to babysit,” Mateo answers, glancing over at Adrian’s empty seat as Rex takes advantage of the vacancy and drops into it.

  Virginia puts my champagne flute down on the table and glances over at him. “How come you’re not dancing with anyone, Rex?”

  “Not enough Disney characters at this gathering, I guess,” I remark.

  He rolls his eyes at me. “I don’t want to hear it. A year ago, you would’ve nailed the mermaid, too.”

  “Rex has a Disney fetish,” I inform Virginia, just to mess with him.

  “I do not have a Disney fetish,” he states.

  “Loves the princesses,” I continue.

  “You’re Rafe fucking Morelli; you have no room to talk,” he informs me,
leaning back and sprawling in his seat.

  My wife looks at me and nods. “He’s right, you are Rafe fucking Morelli, and you don’t have room to talk. I actually have to take his side on this one.”

  Squeezing her side playfully, I say, “Traitor.”

  Nicky’s little squeal steals my attention, alerting me to the arrival of Mateo’s eldest, Bella. While she danced with Nicky she looked happy and sweet, but upon approaching us, she has the vaguely hostile look of a teenager standing in front of a parent who has annoyed her. Which, well, I guess she is.

  “Someone needs to hold Nicky,” she announces. “I have to pee.”

  “Ordinarily, I would be all over this,” Virginia says, indicating the diamonds dangling from her ears. “But earlier when I held him, he tried to rip my ear off my head.” She glances back at me to tell me I’m up, but Bella’s gaze has already moved on. It skates right past Mateo like he’s not even an option, and without warning, she puts Nicky on Rex’s lap.

  “Whoa,” Rex says, awkwardly shooting up and bracing his hands under Nicky’s arms, like he’s a pot of hot soup instead of a small human. “Jesus, give a guy a little warning before you drop a baby on him, would you?”

  “You’re fine,” Bella says, rolling her eyes dismissively. “It’s a baby, not a bomb.” Turning back to Mateo, she holds out her hand expectantly. “May I have my phone, please?”

  “Adrian grounded you from your phone,” he reminds her.

  “I know, but I’m grounded from using it for fun, not when I really need it,” she informs him with casual impatience, in hopes he won’t question her loophole.

  Cocking an eyebrow, Mateo asks, “You need your phone to go to the bathroom?”

  Nodding earnestly, she tells him, “I could get lost. Kidnapped. Murdered. Imagine all the horrors that might befall me on the way to the restroom. Would you really leave your own daughter defenseless, without a way to call for help?”

  I bring a hand to my face, trying to hide my smirk. Mateo regards her dryly, but reaches into his jacket pocket, draws out a cell phone, and hands it to her. “Try to make it back alive.”