by Cora Reilly
Gemma waited. “That’s all?”
“Kiara, to some degree.”
“Not Diego?”
“To some extent, but it’s a different level of trust than with family.”
For me, trust was a conscious effort. I had to allow someone to earn my trust. I rarely bothered. My brothers and I had almost paid with our life for the one time we trusted someone after we returned to the States after our father had been killed. Friendship was a shaky construct, one that often broke under the weight of a better opportunity.
“Isn’t he family now?”
Her voice was soft, probing, but also drowsy and I hoped she’d fall asleep before she could dig deeper.
“He is. You are.” Yet, how could a simple vow, a wedding, turn people into family. It took more than that. Like trust, it took effort. Fabiano had become family without shared blood. He’d given everything he had to offer and killed and bled for us.
“But not really, not yet,” she whispered. “Will you ever trust me like you trust your brothers?”
I wanted to say yes. I didn’t want to lie to her. The silence hung over us like the humidity in the air before a summer storm.
“You can trust me. You can talk about everything with me.” Her fingertips brushed over my wrist.
“Kitty, don’t you think that’s enough serious talk for our wedding night? I didn’t sign up for a psychological exam.”
Gemma tensed. “You are right. You wanted to get inside me, not allow me to glimpse inside your head.”
Frustration swelled in my chest, but I shoved it down. Soon Gemma’s body softened, her breath evened out.
I slipped out of bed and left the bedroom. The party outside had quieted down, but I stayed clear of the garden, not wanting to encounter one of the guests. Instead, I headed into the kitchen to grab a sweet snack, the only sweet thing I’d be allowed to eat tonight.
I paused when I spotted Remo, leaning against the counter with Nevio on his arm. The kid looked exhausted but was obviously refusing to sleep. The way he hung in my brother’s hold, his chin resting on his shoulder, showed he wouldn’t last much longer. When he was half-asleep, he was a cute kid, but sometimes he managed to freak me out despite his only four years. “Already done?”
My mouth tightened.
Remo raised an eyebrow. “She didn’t let you in?”
Nevio looked between his dad and me.
“I bet that gives you a sick kick.”
“I couldn’t care less if you score or not, Savio.”
I leaned beside him, knowing the longer I stayed, the more Remo would see. Even without sharing my darkest thoughts with him, he always seemed to know what went on. “Do you trust Serafina completely?”
Remo’s dark eyes did their X-ray thing, but I didn’t look away. If there was one person on this planet whom I’d allow to dissect my twisted heart, it was him. “I do,” he said quietly, a dangerous truth for a man like him. Few men in the States were more hated than my brother. Trust was a risk he shouldn’t allow himself.
“How did you allow yourself to trust her?” How could you?
“It happened. She saved me when she should have killed me. She forgave me for destroying the life she’d grown up in. She betrayed her family for me.”
I laughed darkly. “None of these things is going to happen with Gemma, so…”
He narrowed his eyes. “If Gemma wasn’t trustworthy, she wouldn’t be allowed to live among us, among my children, Nino’s sons, Fabiano’s daughter. I’d never risk either of their lives only so you can get a taste of virgin pussy. So you better tell me now that you think she’s deserving of our trust, of your trust.”
Leave it to Remo to deliver a threat that made me feel better. “She is trustworthy, don’t worry. Gem has a heart of gold.” Repeating the words her mother had said to me, I knew they were true, which made me feel like an even bigger asshole because she deserved better than me.
“Then what’s the problem?”
I gave him an ironic smile. As if he didn’t know. “Me. The problem is me.”
After my talk with Remo, I returned to my wing. Two emotional conversations were the maximum of what I could take. I froze in the dark of the bedroom, hearing whimpers.
Within a second, I was beside Gemma, feeling her shake, imprisoned by a nightmare. I cupped her head. “Gem, wake up.”
She whimpered again, thrashing as if she was fighting to free herself. I knew that sensation, which was why I preferred to fall into bed drunk or exhausted from partying. It seemed to keep the memories at bay.
“Gem,” I said with more force.
She jerked and sucked in her breath. Her hand came up, touching my stubbled cheek. “Savio?” she asked shakily.
“I’m here. You had a nightmare.”
She pressed her face against my throat and began to cry. I wrapped my arms more tightly around her. “I saw them die again. Both of them. Even though I didn’t see how Dad died, my mind replays the images as if I saw… I want it to stop.”
“It’ll get better with time.”
It was my way to allow her to peel away a layer without saying too much. For a moment, Gemma froze, then she nodded.
As usual, I woke before sunrise. I had my arm wrapped around Gemma from behind, my morning rod prodding her firm ass. Groaning, I rolled over, peering down at the tent in the covers. I sat up and got out of bed.
Gemma shifted then turned around. Her hair curled wildly around her head and her eyes were still half-closed. “What are you doing?”
Her voice was an octave deeper after waking up, the fucking sexiest sound in the world. “Getting up. It’s almost six.”
She blinked. “Almost six.” She pushed into a sitting position, looking confused. “Does something happen at six?”
I chuckled. “No, I always get up at six, if possible, to work out.”
She stared. “You do?”
I grabbed gym shorts and pulled down my sweats to change into them.
A pillow landed in my face. “Savio, when will you stop showing me your thing?”
Her cheeks were red and she looked wide-awake.
“Make that a big fat never, Kitty. You are my wife. It’s a hard-earned privilege to see my dick, so you should appreciate it.”
Pulling the shorts over my hard cock proved tricky and required some shoving and shifting. Gemma let out a choked laugh and slid out of bed as well. Suddenly, she looked shy. “Can I join you?”
“Sure.”
I hoped she wouldn’t want to use training to talk. I wasn’t awake enough for that. She smiled and headed into the walk-in closet. When she emerged, she was dressed in a sports bra and tight leggings. I rearranged my cock again, earning rolled eyes from her.
“Come on,” I said. She came toward me then hesitated as if she wasn’t sure how to act. I grabbed her hand, linking our fingers. I didn’t have problems with physical closeness, so I could give her that, at least. We walked down to the first floor in silence then into my home gym. I’d had a wall between rooms removed to have more space for all the equipment. Bench press, barbells, pull-up bar, and everything else I needed for my weightlifting routine.
“Wow,” Gemma breathed, taking in the room. Then her gaze settled on the mirrored wall. “Of course, you’d want to see yourself, Mr. Vanity.”
I grinned. “It’s not about vanity, it’s about form. I need to check on my posture.”
She slipped away from me and checked out the weights and kettlebells. Then her eyes darted to the pull-up bar. “How many can you do in a row?”
I shrugged, joining her. “Fifty in a minute.”
Gemma shook her head, her eyes gliding down my upper body. I took her hand and pressed it to my abs. Biting her lip, she slid her fingertips over the bumps of my eight-pack. “A six-pack just wasn’t enough, was it?” she said, her voice adorably nervous.
I tried to keep my dick under control so Gemma’d be more comfortable with touching. Baby steps. “I didn’t aim for one, it ha
ppened.” Remo’s words about trust flitted through my brain again. I bent low and kissed Gemma, a quick kiss just because.
She looked surprised, then a small pleased smile tugged at her mouth. Her fingers lingered on the top of my tattoo before she retracted her hand. I reached out to touch her abs. Gemma had the hints of a gorgeous six-pack, softened by her narrow waist and swung hips, simply beautiful. She grasped my wrist before I could touch her. “The last time you touched me there, you were drunk and rude.”
I nodded, remembering distantly. “I was an asshole, Gem.”
“Yes, you were.”
“We’re already agreeing on one important thing. That’s a start, right?”
She laughed then she loosened her hold on my wrist and gave a small nod. My fingertips brushed her smooth skin, then discovered the soft ridges of her defined stomach. Gemma’s breath quickened when I stroked the sensitive skin under her bellybutton. She took a step back and focused on the bar. “Can you help me reach it?”
I gripped her hips and hoisted her up so she could grab the bar, then I released her. Her butt was at eye level now and I couldn’t help but imagine how it would be to eat her out like this. It would be a fun challenge to see how long she could hang from the bar while I did.
I took a step back when she began doing pull-ups. Her upper body strength wasn’t as good as her leg strength, but she managed eight strict pull-ups which wasn’t bad for a woman. She dropped to the ground, panting. With a grin, I jumped up and gripped the bar, then started doing muscle-ups. They were more effective than pull-ups but also far more advanced.
“I wish I could do those,” Gemma said.
I landed beside her. “We’ll work on it. You can do it if you stay focused.”
“I love it that we can work out together,” she admitted.
We switched to legs after that, working out in comfortable silence, me enjoying the sight of Gemma doing deadlifts. It was a magnificent view.
I watched her do another deadlift, my mind wandering to how it would be to have her bend over like that and bury my face in her pussy, really eat her out until my face was covered in her juices, make her come good and hard before I’d fuck her.
Gemma narrowed her eyes at me in the mirror then her gaze slipped lower and she dropped the barbell with a clang. My wandering thought had had a visible effect on my groin area. Even my workout shorts couldn’t hide my dick.
Gemma’s face turned red then she straightened with a huff. I shrugged and went over to her. “Come on, Gem,” I said in a low voice. “Is it really so bad that the sight of you bending over gives me a hard-on?”
She pursed her lips, too stubborn to tell the truth.
I’d never admit that it gave me a thrill to know that I turned on Savio like that. Of course, his smirk said he knew exactly what I was thinking. He cupped my face and kissed me possessively. I stood on my tiptoes, my palms pressing against his sweaty, muscled chest.
Savio’s kisses were addicting and I was the junkie that couldn’t resist its favorite drug. Slowly his lips traveled south, licking and nibbling my throat in a tantalizing way that sent spears of desire through my entire body.
He sucked at my skin until the teasing prickling turned into a dull pain. I gasped from the mix of pain and pleasure. He pulled back with a satisfied grin and my hand flew up to touch the throbbing spot. “Did you give me a hickey?” I whispered in a voice I hardly recognized.
“You are mine, and I like seeing proof of it on your body.”
I was torn between shoving him away and pulling him in for another kiss. The decision was taken from me when Nino stepped in, followed by Fabiano. I quickly took a step back from Savio, heat shooting into my head at what they might have seen or heard.
Nino’s cold gray eyes flitted from his brother to me and he tilted his head in greeting, “If we’re interrupting anything, we can work out somewhere else.”
“No,” I blurted.
Fabiano’s eyes lingered on my throat and I pressed my fingers to the spot. “Good morning, Gemma.” His voice was restrained politeness. He was like a brother to Savio, but I knew even less about him than about Nino, Remo, and Adamo—except for the fact that he was Enforcer like my brother and had beaten up Toni’s dad.
I gave him a tense smile. He exchanged a look with Savio before he headed for the bench press while Nino began to do muscle-ups. None of them wore shirts, unabashed about their bodies like Savio.
Savio picked up his barbell and did a round of deadlifts, then motioned for me to finish my last round.
Neither Fabiano nor Nino were paying any attention to me, at least not outwardly, focused on their workout, but I still felt under scrutiny. I was an intruder in their tight-knit family. It would take time for me to prove myself, not just to them, but also to Savio.
After our workout, all four of us headed to the kitchen. Savio, Fabiano and Nino talked about a few clubs and their rentability. I was too nervous about my first day in the Falcone mansion to focus on it though. Despite Savio’s reassuring hand on my back when we entered the kitchen, I felt on display. The entire family had already taken their seats around the big kitchen table, except for Adamo.
Savio nudged me toward them. Kiara gave me a bright smile, her eyes kind. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving,” I admitted.
“Then have a seat.”
Savio sank down and pulled out the chair beside him. The conversation picked up around me, for which I was incredibly grateful. Kiara filled my plate and I ate my scrambled eggs in silence, trying to pretend I didn’t notice the occasional curious glance.
“Why’s she here?” blurted Nevio after a few minutes of staring at me.
Serafina made a shush noise and gave me an apologetic smile. I stifled laughter. “I’m Savio’s wife.”
Nevio gave me an uncomprehending look.
“That’s how we felt when we found out Savio was considering marriage,” Remo said dryly.
I chanced a glance at him, trying to decide if he’d been against the bond, but his expression was the hard mask I knew.
Savio spread his arms. “Hey, I’m a good husband.”
I snorted, couldn’t help myself, then flushed when everyone looked my way.
Serafina laughed, and soon Kiara and Leona fell in.
“Didn’t leave the impression you wanted, hmm?” Serafina asked Savio. Realizing what she was referring to, I cringed. We never talked about sex at home.
“Maybe he’s losing his touch,” Fabiano suggested.
Savio raised his brows. “Don’t worry about my touch. It’s satisfactory.”
“Leave him be. His blue balls make him irritable,” Remo said.
My eyes widened.
Serafina elbowed her husband. “Stop it.”
Savio leaned in, squeezing my thigh. “Don’t let my brothers rile you up, Gem. You have to get used to their inappropriate humor.”
I could see that. It would definitely take some getting used to.
Adamo stumbled into the kitchen, looking sleepy and completely disheveled. The attention focused on him and I relaxed. Savio squeezed my leg again. “I’ll give you a tour of the house after breakfast so you get to know your home.”
I could have kissed him right then. Sometimes he annoyed me, and it was easy to cling to my anger for what he’d done in the past, but then he did something like this and I wondered if it wouldn’t be easier to forgive and forget.
After breakfast, we made our way back to the bedroom where we showered, separately to Savio’s disappointment. “Ready for the tour?” Savio asked when I stepped out of the bathroom.
He took my hand. I loved how he always did it without hesitation as if I’d always been at his side. For me, physical closeness with him was something I had to get used to, but he didn’t give me time to feel anxious. He motioned down the corridor of the second floor. “My brothers don’t usually enter my wing, with the exemption of the gym below. But if you feel uncomfortable with their presence there,
they can turn a room in another wing into a gym.”
I quickly shook my head. “I don’t mind. I was only startled this morning.”
“And embarrassed,” Savio added, brushing his fingertips over the hickey on my throat.
“That too.”
He chuckled. “We’ll see how long you’ll blush so easily.”
Living with him and his shameless brothers, probably not very long. “What’s in the rooms?” I motioned at the four doors branching off.
Savio shrugged. “One of them is for my sneaker collection—”
I interrupted him. “You have an entire room for your sneakers?”
He opened the door to our left. Rows over rows of shelves filled with sneakers lined the walls. I gave him an incredulous look. “You can’t be serious! That’s bigger than the room I had at home.”
“I like sneakers.”
“Do I even want to know what’s in the other rooms?” I said with a huff.
He grinned. “Probably not. So sue me, I like to dress nicely.”
I shook my head again. “So vain.”
He kissed my throat, squeezing my waist. Then he grabbed my hand again and led me downstairs. It was a living room with a white sofa, a huge black TV hanging on the opposite walls and modern dark wooden furniture. Everything was neat and matched. “I didn’t think your place would be this clean. Diego’s room is a hazard zone.”
“Adamo’s too,” Savio said with a grimace. “I prefer it clean.”
I smiled. I was glad that I wouldn’t have to pick up dirty socks after him like I had to do for Diego… and Dad. My heart throbbed painfully, and I had to swallow hard. Savio searched my eyes, then he pulled me against him, giving me comfort without me asking for it. I cleared my throat. “What about the living room in the main part of the house?”
“It’s where the entire family spends time together, but it can get messy and loud with all the kids and people, so sometimes I prefer to stay here and watch a movie. My family is a crazy loud bunch that can drive even the sanest person to insanity.”
