by Kim Linwood
“Say no and I’ll stop,” he whispers, his voice so rough it practically scratches my skin.
I don’t say no.
He starts with his fingers, slowly and deliberately coaxing my body into wanting what it isn’t sure it should. I’m still sensitive from coming, and the strange new sensations blend into that, forming a new type of pleasure. Darker and sharper, but no less amazing.
Before long I’m panting for more, and his fingers leave me, replaced by something much, much larger.
There’s no way—Oh, fuck!
My eyes had been half closed, but they spring open as I gasp at being taken in this new place. I thought it would hurt—hell, I wasn’t sure it was even going to be possible—but it doesn’t. Not really, as long as he takes it slowly. It’s amazing.
Montana groans. His hold on my hips is tight, broadcasting how hard he’s fighting the urge to go faster. I close my eyes and press my face against the sheet, breathing deeply and trying to relax. To let him in.
Each inch is hard won, but I adjust, little by little. When his hips touch my ass, I’m amazed I’ve taken the whole thing. Then he moves, carefully, gently, testing what I can take. Little strokes turn longer as my body adjusts. What started as tight resistance turns to grasping need.
“Do it,” I gasp into the bed, my breath raspy and harsh. “Fuck me.” My whole body is a knot of sensation.
All inhibitions are gone. I thrust my hand between my legs and finger my clit as he realizes he’s free to follow his instincts. With a low groan, he drives into me, and I push back, trying to capture all of him with each stroke. Lost in each other as deeply as we are in our own pleasure, we meld into each other with no clear boundaries between.
“So, so close,” I stutter.
He moans, or maybe it’s a growl. Whatever it is, I can feel it all the way to my toes. “Do it. Come for me again. Come around me.”
I scream as we slam together, my whole body seizing up as my world turns white. Montana pushes deep, his steel grip on my hips holding me against him. He pulses, over and over, emptying himself into me with a deep cry that sends ripples racing through my core. I’m hot, slick, dirty and completely sated.
He’s gentle as we clean up afterwards. Our second shower of the night is slow and tender. Pulling a fresh, soft towel from his linens, he dries me off before I return the favor. Back in bed, we lie entwined in each other’s arms, content just to share the same space and be together.
“I love you,” we say simultaneously, like lovesick teenagers.
His hand strokes lightly over my breast, continuing down until it rests over my stomach. He draws his breath, as if pulling in a bit of courage. “I want you to know… to know that I’ve never said that to a woman before. I would never say it if I didn’t mean it.” My heart skips a beat, but he continues before I can say anything. “We didn’t have time to date, or do any of the usual relationship things like I would’ve liked, but I wouldn’t give up you or the baby for anything.” His low voice is full of emotion. “I will spend as long as it takes to make that up to you.”
“Even if it takes the rest of our lives?” Sleep pulls at my eyelids, but I don’t want to lose this moment.
His arm around my shoulders tightens. “Even if it takes this one and the next.”
“I’m glad I gave you that seat,” I say softly.
“Princess, you gave me the world.”
51
Andrea
“I thought he lived with the Caporossis,” Evie says under her breath as we hide from Mrs. Gallo in her kitchen. Evie and Marc snuck in with the dawn, scaring the crap out of us when they came pounding on Montana’s door. I was sure it was the police.
“He has a room there, but he keeps an apartment upstairs. I guess she owns the building and knows their family from way back.”
Evie nudges my shoulder with her own. “You mean your family.”
Woah. That’s going to take a little getting used to.
“Yeah, I guess so. She knows my parents too. He’ll have to move now. It’s not very anonymous once the cops have driven you home.”
“No, I suppose not, and there isn’t exactly room for a family.”
“Coming, girls?” Mrs. Gallo prompts from the other room.
I roll my eyes. “We’ll be right in.”
“Hold me, Andie.”
We grab our tea and rejoin the others. She might consider herself the perfect hostess, but tea is for Chinese food, not breakfast as far as Mrs. Gallo is concerned. Fortunately this meant she had a few bags stashed away alongside two decades worth of unused chopsticks. After three years in Durham, it’d be a strange breakfast without.
Evie takes a sip and winces. “Mmm stale oolong. Just like home.”
Marc and Montana sit on the edge of a fancy sofa that most likely survived at least one world war, but looks brand new.
Because it’s still in the bag.
They look incredibly uncomfortable on the plastic, sipping tiny cups of espresso. Like kids waiting outside the principal's office to hear how much trouble they’re in.
Mrs. Gallo fixes the boys with an annoyed look. “You tell that mother of yours that I didn’t appreciate not getting an invitation to your wedding.”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean to leave you off the list,” Marc tries to explain. “We were a bit rushed.”
“Mmhm. I can see that.” She glances between me and Montana. “It wasn’t so rushed that Cecilia Esposito didn’t get invited.”
“Cecilia’s husband got arrested at the reception,” Montana points out.
Actually a lot of people got arrested. My parents are alright, but we’re still figuring out what the hell happened and Giuseppe is back in jail.
“Good riddance. Ricky always was a buffoon,” she scoffs.
“Wow, look at the time.” Marc puts down his coffee and looks at his phone. “We really need to take off if we want to make our plane.”
“I thought we weren’t leaving unt—” Evie coughs as my elbow makes sudden contact with her ribs.
“I expect an invitation to the baptism.” Mrs. Gallo puts down her coffee and fixes me with a look.
“Oh, I’m not…” I trail off, unable to stand against the arch of her perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “I’ll make sure you do.”
“Thank you, dear.”
Three hours later, Montana turns to me on the plane and nods towards the bathroom. I grin and bite my lip. Evie and Marc are asleep, and the crew are in their own section.
We could just…
“Don’t even think about it,” Marc grumbles from across the aisle, eyes still closed. “We all have to use that bathroom.”
Evie sits up. She pulls off her sleep-mask and yawns. “What shouldn’t they think about?”
He looks at us and then tips his head towards the bathroom.
It takes a second but then her eyes widen. “Oh. Oh!” She unlatches her seatbelt and makes a dash for the restroom. “Better pee now so you don’t have to worry about me later, then.”
Marc looks at Montana. “Seriously, don’t think about it.”
The door re-opens a few minutes later. “All clear! Just give it a sec, if you know what I mean.” Evie wrinkles her nose and sits back down.
I sigh and lean back in my seat. “Raincheck?”
Montana nods. “Raincheck.”
Epilogue
Six Years Later
“Luca! I’m gunna bash you!” Evelyn—our oldest and named for my best friend—runs by at top speed.
Luca is nowhere to be seen, but his laughter isn’t far off. I should probably jump in to rescue my poor four-year-old, but if there’s anything four years of dealing with a boy exactly like his father has taught me, it’s that he probably deserves whatever his sister dishes out.
Thomas squirms in my arms, awakened by the noise of his siblings having fun without him. At eighteen months, he’s getting heavy, but I’ll hold him as long as I can. Time flies so fast.
“I got him.”
Montana comes to my aid, swinging Thomas up to rest against his shoulder. He pats his back and glances in my direction. “Mom’s here. We can leave whenever you’re ready.”
My baby boy yawns, his chocolate brown eyes blinking sleepily. I stroke a finger over his nose and his face crinkles up.
“Ready for another one?”
“Nope. Just enjoying my boys.”
I smile up at my husband. He’s handsome as ever, the few grey hairs that have started cropping up only making him more distinguished. Six years, three kids, a couple of internal power struggles and a major FBI crackdown later, I wouldn’t change a thing.
A tiny dark-haired blur tears into the foyer and wraps itself around Montana’s legs. “Sowwy!”
Evelyn stomps in looking like a curly haired goddess of vengeance personified. “He popped Starlight Glitter’s head off and put it in the bed in my Dream House!”
My little girl holds up a purple plastic horse head and waves it around. Fortunately for Starlight Glitter, it shouldn’t be too hard to reunite her head with her body.
“Marc just had to let him watch that movie,” I say with a sigh.
Montana tries to keep a straight face but I can tell he wants to laugh.
Men.
I grab my daughter’s shoulders and make her look at me. “And when someone does something like that to us, what do we do?”
She thinks about it for a while. “Make them pay?”
“Good girl, and how do we do that?”
“Aim for what they care about.” She heads straight for the stairs, making a beeline for her brother’s room.
Luca scowls at me, so I pull him into a hug and snuggle my mischief maker. Our kids know the rules. No blood, no breaks, no permanent destruction, and we always have each other’s backs.
“Go on.” I give him a little squeeze. “Go defend your stuff.”
He nods and scampers off.
I stand up and brush the wrinkles out of my skirt. “Let’s get out of here before your mother changes her mind.”
Montana snorts. “Like that’s going to happen.”
The drive from the Lake House goes quickly, but I’m still not sure why Montana was so insistent on going into the city for our weekly date night. He promised that he’d take the time to woo me properly, and he’s never stopped. What started as a whirlwind of lust and affection has turned into a life full of love and mutual respect.
The summer after Eve was born, we moved back to England for six months and I finished my degree. Montana and Marc have slowly but surely started taking over for Emilio and Giuseppe. I can’t say the family business has gone straight, exactly, but we’re moving things in a more modern direction, at least.
I look out the tinted window of our limo at an unfamiliar—and not particularly attractive—street. “Where are we going?”
He grins. “It’s a surprise.”
“Okay, but I’m a little overdressed for this neighborhood.” I dressed for a nightclub, but this looks more like a dive-bar sort of place.
“You look beautiful. Trust me.”
He takes my hand in his and presses a kiss into my palm. A little jolt of lust zings straight up my arm and into my heart.
“Always.”
We pull into an alley. Our driver gets out and opens our door. Montana clasps his arm and pats him on the shoulder. “Come back at two unless we call earlier.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Deja-vu hits me as we step into the bar. “Hey, isn’t this…?” I look around in surprise.
“Yep.”
It’s the karaoke bar we ran into the night my parents dropped the wedding bombshell on me. It hasn’t changed at all from how I remember it.
“Surprise!” Family and friends pop out from all sides. I take a step back, running right into Montana’s chest. Even Marc is here, leaning against the bar with a drink in his hand.
“Evie! What are you doing here? I thought you were on sabbatical in Australia.”
My best friend gives me a giant hug. Her hair is blue-tipped now instead of pink, and she’s even managed to get a bit of a tan, but otherwise she looks just like I remember. “What can I say? I got an invitation I couldn’t refuse.”
Franco takes the stage and the first notes of Uptown Girl start playing.
“Surprised?” Montana whispers into my ear.
I nod. “Did you really rent out this whole place?”
“Yep. Do you remember what day today is?”
October… we were married in November and my birthday is in June. “Should I?”
“Six years ago today, I got on a plane to Europe and a drop dead sexy woman offered me a seat.”
Oh my God.
I look around again, taking it all in. An odd pair in the back that I hadn’t even noticed at first catch my attention. Brett and Philmore, wandering around from table to table with trays of what I can only assume are cheese. I point frantically. “It’s… It’s…!”
“I know. I found them hiding out in Alaska and pulled a few strings.” The song changes, and Montana perks up. “That’s my cue.”
I watch in amazement with Evie by my side as my husband steps up onto the stage. He whispers a few words to the DJ and then grabs the mic, pops his collar and strikes a pose. I laugh. What a ham.
It only takes a few notes before I recognize Marry Me, by Train. Montana looks straight at me as he starts to sing, his eyes smoldering black. Last time we were here, I was so drunk I barely remember us going up there, let alone how good or bad we were. Probably terrible.
I might be biased, but this time he’s pretty close to perfect. A huge smile spreads across my face as he sings to no one but me.
The bar fades into the background until it’s just the two of us and the song. His dark eyes never leave mine as he steps off the stage, closing in on me with slow, measured steps. Stopping right in front of me, he drops to one knee.
“Marry me,” he sings once last time, and the guitar stops, the last quiet notes fading away to leave the bar in silence.
I wait for him to get up but he doesn’t. I glance around. Everyone is watching.
“Andrea.” Montana’s voice snaps me back to him. He holds up a small, black felt box.
My eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and my heart starts to pound like crazy. We’re already married. What the hell is he up to?
“Right from the start, I knew there was something about you. That I needed to get to know you better, but somehow we did everything backwards.” Slowly, he opens the little box, revealing a diamond in a white gold filigree setting surrounded by six other tiny gems. Our children’s birthstones, two for each kid.
I pinch my lips together to keep from bawling like a baby. There’s already something stinging in the corner of my eye.
“I’ve always regretted not getting to do this right the first time, and maybe it’s stupid after all this time.” He looks away briefly, licking his lips nervously. “But I’m going to ask now. Andrea, for the last six years you have filled my life with so much joy I can’t imagine a world without you and our children in it. Will you do me the honor of being my wife, from now until forever?”
I lose my battle against the tears. Leaning forwards, I throw my arms around his neck, clutching him hard. Face buried in his hair, I sob loudly and unabashedly. “It’s not stupid. It’s beautiful and incredible and I love you so much.”
“So… is that a yes?”
“Of course it’s a yes, you idiot,” I bawl into his shoulder. “You didn’t have to do this. I’m not going anywhere.”
Around us, the bar erupts into loud cheering but all I hear is Montana’s voice whisper in my ear.
“You deserve it, princess.”
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Or flip the page to read a preview of Payne: A Bad Boy Romance.
Preview: Payne
A Bad Boy Romance
1
Payne
The last lines of Burn by The Cure peel out of the speakers as I slam the brakes. Skidding in the loose slush covering the street, I stop several feet past the parking space.
Fucking winter.
Fucking Chicago.
A few twists of the wheel, and my car backs smoothly up to the curb between a couple of salt and dirt covered lumps of metal masquerading as vehicles. It won’t take many days of driving in this mess before my baby looks just as bad.
It pains me, but blending in is more important than my paint job.
My eyes close as the last notes of the song trail off. Their melancholy intensity suits my mood and the weather perfectly. Every moment has its song, each note chaining to the next, playing the symphony of my life. A majorly fucked up symphony nobody else wants a ticket to, but still, there’s a raw sort of beauty to it and it’s mine.
Stepping out into a puddle of icy slop, I wince at the bitter wind coming off the lake and eye my Camaro sadly. Having nothing but on-street parking should be illegal, but the location is good and the job won’t last long. With the money coming in from this hit, I can buy ten more cars, but it doesn’t make treating this one like shit feel any better.
An older lady walks by on the sidewalk, giving me a suspicious look over the roof of my car. She shuffles as far away as she can without actually tripping into the snow piles along the sidewalk. I give her a smile and she speeds up, pretending not to notice.
I’ve gotten used to it, but would it kill people to be a little neighborly?
It’s not like I’m going to suddenly snap. That’s not my style. The only people who need to fear me won’t know until it’s too late.
