by Bethany-Kris
She was stuck on how he called her a lovely mess. Or did he mean her anxiety and stress that she had just word vomited to a pile while he watched?
What did it even matter?
Cella didn’t have the opportunity to ask either way because before she could even blink, Marcus had closed the space between them, and had her wrapped in his embrace in the next second. His strong arms tightened around her as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. Dragging in a deep breath, his scent came with it, calming her further. The soft thump-thump-thump of his heart beating against her own chest when they were tight together only soothed her further.
That’s what this man did for her.
In every way.
Even when life was crazy.
He was solid ground while the world crumbled around her. An unmovable pillar in the hurricane of life. The safe-haven she could run to whenever she needed him no matter the reason.
Marcus kissed the top of Cella’s head before murmuring, “I was going to tell you all the solutions I have ready for these problems ... but really, I only have one question. Can I ask it?”
Pulling back from him just enough that she could tip her head and stare up at Marcus who grinned at the sight of her own smile, Cella said, “Ask it, then.”
Not that she had any idea what he would ask.
He always managed to surprise her.
“What if I could make it all happen? What would you say then?”
She arched a brow. “All of it?”
“With little to no effort on your part. Or none that will take away from the things you want or need to do, and the time you have for yourself and us. What if I could make it happen?”
She didn’t know if that was possible.
Marcus’s sexy grin didn’t falter the longer she stayed silent, considering his words. He was always so confident; it was one of the things she adored about him the most. There was a fine line between confidence and cocky arrogance, but Marcus walked it well. Better than most.
“Well?” he urged.
“I would say yes. If you could make it all happen—everything—before the babies were born, then yes. I just don’t think that’s—”
Cella didn’t get another word out before Marcus kissed her. Bruising and beautifully good, too. So swift, it took her breath right from her lungs. She lost herself in the hard strokes of his lips that urged hers to open for him until his tongue was sliding along her own, dominating even the way she responded to his kiss. The same way he took control between them in bed. His kiss was the same and she adored it.
Everything.
All of him.
She loved it all.
“All I needed was the yes,” Marcus murmured against her trembling lips after he had slowed their kiss. “And now I’m taking you to bed. Be quiet on the way—someone may still be awake. Does that sound good to you?”
That time, her yes came easier.
How could it not?
Cella wasn’t sure how she managed to keep quiet even after they were hidden inside the safety of the master bedroom ... but she did. Well, maybe that was because once Marcus had her stripped naked and on her knees in the middle of her bed, he stuffed her panties into her mouth to muffle the noises that he drew from her lips as he worked her body to heaven.
Higher and higher.
She loved him between her thighs.
The way he held her body down with his strong hands and ate her until her hips strained against his hold, and her heart felt like it was going to explode. He knew every way to drive her crazy with nothing more than the flick of his tongue against her pussy. There was something about the way he moaned, the thick sound coming off appreciative when he had that tarte taste of her heavy on his tongue.
And when he finally made her come? Then slid his cock in deep? God. He fucked her with slow but hard pumps that took away what remained of her sense and sensibility.
Yeah.
Cella didn’t regret saying yes to Marcus. Not for a second.
She never did.
40.
Marcus
WHILE his brother’s voice droned through the speakers in the car, Marcus’s mind was somewhere else entirely. Somewhere in a soft bed where he could still feel Cella’s silky thighs trembling under his grasp as he widened them to accommodate him slipping between her legs. Somewhere that her moans when he filled her full of his cock still echoed in his mind long after she’d reached her orgasm, and she was urging him to chase his own.
He could feel how her inner walls hugged him when he had her stretched and full. Or how her arousal coated his tongue, and the flavor remained even after he’d fucked her crazy. And then the way salt made it even better when he kissed her damp skin.
Somewhere else ...
Somewhere better.
Where he could taste her again.
Smell her sex.
Fuck her.
At the end of the day, Marcus still put on a good show to the rest of the public. In his suits, with his hair combed back in place, an expensive watch ticking away at his wrist, and his shoes always shined, he looked like the very embodiment of what he was meant to be. Of what he had been raised to be.
The next boss.
The Guzzi king.
His father’s prodigy.
In every way.
And yet, underneath it all, Marcus still remained a live wire wrapped up in nothing more than a good suit. He might smile and nod when needed, and he always inserted his commentary into conversations at the right time that he was expected to, but in his mind ... the one place no one but him could see and be, well, there he was much different.
Baser.
Carnal.
Raw.
Safe.
“And Mom and Dad are back, then?” Marcus asked.
“As of this morning,” Chris replied. “Yes.”
“Perfect.”
“But where are you?”
That made Marcus smirk. “I know, I know. I should be on my way back to Toronto today as well, but—”
“I can move some shit around,” his brother interjected. “It’s a little easier when you give me a heads up about it, though.”
Fair point.
“I’ll make note of that,” Marcus returned.
But he knew Chris heard good and well what he didn’t say. He didn’t have to be accommodating to anyone as the boss. Everyone else had to accommodate him now. That was perfectly fucking fine with him. Even if the rest of his men were still learning what it meant to serve the new head of the family.
“I do have something else I need you to do for me, though,” Marcus said, needing to finish up the conversation with his brother. The woman who had come to park alongside his vehicle in the lot gave him a wave from her car that he returned. His lunch date had arrived, and it was time to move onto the next part of his current task—giving Cella what she needed and wanted like he promised to do. He was nothing if not a man of his word. “If you’re up for it, of course.”
“When am I not?” Chris replied.
Marcus laughed under his breath.
Well ...
It wasn’t like Chris had a choice.
“You know the realtor I had been meeting with before coming to New York?”
“Laurie, yeah. Dad’s favorite.”
Marcus’s, too.
Was that by accident?
Not likely.
“Yeah, her. Get her on the phone. Before supper, I want an email with all the details, photos, and whatever else she wants to send about the property she had approached me with a while back.”
“You were looking at a place?”
Marcus grinned at the tone his brother took on. “Are you offended that you weren’t aware I have a life outside of the things we discuss, or ...?”
“I mean, I didn’t know you were looking to buy a new house. That’s all.”
“Not just another house. A home, actually.”
Chris sighed. “Right, I get it. I’ll get on the phone w
ith the realtor, too.”
“Thanks, man. Now, I’ve got ... other things to do, so.”
“Right, right. Later, boss.”
Marcus hung up the call without his own goodbye. Not that his brother would expect anything less from him now. They all had their roles to fill in their business, and he had chosen the one he wanted to play just like Chris had decided on his own as well. They did what they needed to do. Simple as that.
By the time Marcus stepped out of his vehicle, the woman from the car beside his had also exited hers to greet him with a hand stuck out for a shake.
“Marcus Guzzi, right?” she asked.
He nodded, shaking her hand but quickly letting it go once he was satisfied. “I am—and you are Marilyn Cooper. Wedding planner extraordinaire. Or that’s what everyone has told me when I asked who could get something like this done in a short amount of time.”
The green-eyed, sprite of a woman with dark, spiky hair grinned like she was pleased and proud. It really was funny and terrifying how easily and quickly Marcus could pull things together when he needed to. It helped to be rich. It also didn’t hurt to have a last name like his that demanded attention and respect when he signed it to a check.
“Good to know people get it right when they talk about me,” Marilyn replied.
Marcus laughed, saying, “They sure do. Are you ready to meet my fiancée? This is going to be a bit of a surprise for her.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t worry. She’s in a good mood today. I made sure of that.”
• • •
“Marcus?” Cella’s entire face brightened when he walked into her Rochester office with Marilyn, the wedding planner, close behind on his heels. “I thought you were heading back to Toronto today?”
“I can afford one more day here.”
Surely.
Cella rounded her desk with questions in her eyes as her attention drifted between him and the woman behind him. Marcus took his time to properly greet his fiancée before introducing the two women, however. Kissing Cella to her cheek and resting his arm along her lower back to hold her close, he always wanted her to know she was the most important thing in his world.
Or the room.
Whatever.
“Surprise,” he murmured against the top of Cella’s head. “I hope you didn’t have any plans for lunch. I know Tiff is having a play date with her friend—I’ll pick her up, so it’s one less thing you have to worry about today. I thought maybe you would be trying to catch up on stuff, so this would be the best time to—”
“Bring a friend,” Cella interjected.
Marcus’s chuckles rocked them both. “A planner, actually. A wedding planner. Cella, this is—”
“Marilyn Cooper,” the woman said before Marcus could, her bubbly personality showing through even more when she darted forward to offer her hand to Cella with a bright, wide smile. “I have heard so much about the infamous Cella Marcello and your interior designs. I can’t believe I’m going to be planning your wedding. This is crazy town.”
Cella gaped.
Marcus just laughed.
“Need a minute to catch up, babe?” he asked Cella.
She nodded. “Just one or two, yeah.” Peering up at him, she asked lower, “Really? A planner?”
“It’ll be easy. No stress at all. A three-month deadline is pretty typical for my clients, if not less. You won’t have to do much more than pick a dress, agree to a color scheme and theme, and show up on time, Cella. I promise.”
Cella clearly heard everything the woman said, but she only looked Marcus’s way when she asked, “You picked a date, then? Three months?”
“That’s before the babies,” he returned. “Which is what you wanted. And you did say yes to me making things happen if it didn’t interfere with anything else, right?”
“I did say that ... now I’m wondering what else you’re just waiting to pull out of your hat.”
She was quick.
He wasn’t done yet.
Marilyn tittered on the spot, her excitement becoming a voracious ball of energy in the office. “Is that a yes, then? Am I officially planning a wedding?”
Cella let out a soft laugh when Marcus grinned her way. “I guess yeah ... that’s a yes.”
As long as she kept saying yes, then he would keep making things happen.
Fair was fair.
41.
Cella
KNOWING Marcus planned to pick Tiffany up from her playdate with a friend, Cella wasn’t at all surprised to walk into her kitchen after work and find the two of them laughing together. It was the rows of printed images that they had spread over the massive countertop space that made her pause in the doorway.
Even from her spot, she could see the images made up a larger picture. Of what looked to be rooms, spaces, crown molding, flooring, a garage, and so much more.
“What are you two doing?”
Tiffany didn’t even look up from the photo she held. “Shopping, Ma.”
“What?”
Marcus’s dark laughter hit her square in the gut as he crossed the room to greet her first before anything else. He always did that; she had started to notice it, and she liked it. She loved the feeling that he made sure that she knew she was the first thing on his mind even when all she had done was walk into a room where he was too.
How did she get so lucky?
Her second chance at forever was proving to be everything she could ever want and more. Then again, she figured Marcus should take the credit for that. He certainly put in the effort to make it work with them. Every day.
Tipping her head back in his palms, he dotted sweet kisses across her pouty smile. “How was the rest of your day?”
“Good.”
“The planner—the plans?”
Cella grinned. “We made some headway on things over lunch. I think she knows where to go from here with different things I like, and I’ll be seeing her again in a couple of weeks to go over more details.”
“No stress, right?”
“Marcus.”
“Hmm?” he asked, smiling in that knowing way of his.
“You’re amazing.”
“I’m only trying a little, sweetheart.”
Really?
Only a little?
She wondered what this might look like if he put one-hundred percent of his effort into it. Actually, that might be a little terrifying.
Marcus pressed closer to her, molding their chests together as his warm palms slid down her body until he had her tiny waist in his hands, and his thumbs could stroke the sides of her stomach. Where his babies grew, she knew. He was careful about never intruding on her space and body but when it was just them and things were quiet, his hands always found her stomach. A very small curve was just starting to grow there. Soon, she knew it would be huge. He still seemed to love what she had for now.
“I try to keep my word, that’s all,” Marcus said, showing his white teeth as he winked. “Are you happy? Is it working?”
She didn’t think people knew the truth about Marcus ... something in his personality that barely anyone but perhaps those closest to him could see. For those he loved, he felt such a strong need to please them. Especially her. And he wanted to know he was doing it and doing it well. That’s when he was most happy.
“It’s working,” she promised.
“Good.”
“And you didn’t answer my question,” she added, leaning to the side to peer around him at the photos still spread out across her kitchen. Tiffany had crawled up on the island to grab a photo further down the counter. “What is all this?”
Marcus stepped back, waving an arm wide. “Take a peek for yourself. Let me know what you think.”
He kept talking as she headed for the closest countertop filled with pictures. Setting her bag aside, she reached for one that showcased the front entrance of a rather large home. The circular driveway crossed under marble pillars that supported a roof that jutted out from the f
ront of the house. Massive double doors stained in a rich color waited just above marble stairs. The next picture was of a guesthouse. Another showcased a winding staircase.
“I thought the guest house would work well for the office spaces—it’s more than large enough. The main house itself has seventeen bedrooms. That’s not enough for us to find a space for a guest to sleep? We didn’t need the guesthouse for that. Better used for you and your work, right?”
Cella moved from photo to photo, saying nothing. Marcus let her. Beside Tiffany, who was so excited to show her the photos of the room she wanted to be her bedroom, waited a binder that Cella hadn’t seen in months ... possibly even longer. She didn’t need to open it up to know what was inside.
Her designs.
Things she wanted.
Ideas for her own home.
Her someday home.
“I thought we could hire someone,” Marcus said from behind her as she reached for the binder, “to bring your vision to life without actually taking time away from what you’re doing now. If you like that idea, of course. Otherwise, we could work on the new house in our time when we’re able. Everything is up to us, you know?”
Cella understood, then.
She really got it.
The tear that slipped out of the corner of her eye didn’t last long before she had wiped it away with a quick sniffle as the only proof that it had existed in the first place.
“How long have you been looking at this house?”
“The realtor sent me information about the Quebec estate a couple of weeks ago, but I mean, I’ve been looking for something for us for—”
“Before the pregnancy?”
“Oh, yeah. Easily. I knew where we were going, Cella. I knew what I wanted. You. It was just a one-step-at-a-time kind of thing. Then, the pregnancy happened. We had to change some plans around. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Right.
Because he took it all on himself.
He expected nothing from her.
Nothing but love.
“And hey, if this isn’t the kind of place you’re interested in,” he said, coming to stand at her back where he could reach alongside to move some of the photos on the counter, “then I can send back that info to the realtor, and she’ll know to look elsewhere.”
