Francesca #2
He started to move behind me, grabbing plates and utensils and setting the table. I heard him uncork a bottle of wine and fill the glasses. His angry silence was more deafening than his loud voice.
I carried the dishes to the center of the table and sat across from him.
He sat there and stared.
I served myself because he always waited for me to go first.
Then he reached for the dish and scooped the breaded chicken onto his plate before dumping a pile of pasta beside it. “Thank you for dinner.” His tone was clipped, like he had to force himself to say the words because he was too polite to be an asshole.
“You’re welcome.”
We ate in heavy silence while he continued to shoot angry stares at me across the table.
Ever since we’d gotten together, we’d rarely spent an evening apart. The only time we did was when he had to work. But he never wanted time to himself. Never wanted to return to Palermo to spend time with the people he left behind. Sometimes it felt like we already lived together.
His words broke the long silence. “Once the last funeral is over, I’m going to tell him.”
“Wolfe—”
“I warned you.”
My plate was half eaten, but I set my fork on the edge. “I don’t understand the rush.”
“Because this is the real fucking deal,” he snapped.
“I’m tired of sneaking around. I’m tired of lying.
That’s not who I am, Francesca. I look someone in the face and show them exactly who I am, even if it makes them hate me.
Even if your father thinks I’m not good enough for you, he’ll at least respect me for being straight with him. ”
“I’ve thought a lot about it, and I think I should tell him.”
He stilled as he stared me down.
“I just think it would be better coming from me instead of you.”
“And why’s that?” He dropped his fork onto the plate, and it clattered loudly.
I took a breath as I stared at him, feeling the flames from his rage across the table. “Don’t take this the wrong way—”
“Just give it to me straight.” His eyes were so wide, and it didn’t seem like he would ever blink again.
“You’re just…a little rough around the edges sometimes. And I think coming at my father head on with this isn’t the best course of action.”
“I don’t do bullshit.”
“I understand that, but telling my father I’m your woman whether he likes it or not won’t get you very far. I know how you are, and you don’t have an ounce of diplomacy in your body. And that hardheadedness is going to get you shot. This will all be for nothing if you get shot, Wolfe.”
His anger flickered—but only slightly.
“So I think I should be the one to speak to him. When the time is right.”
He issued a low growl.
“Coming at him when he’s grieving and pissed off won’t get us the response we want. I know how to talk to him. I know how to handle him. Just the way I know how to handle you…for the most part.”
He drew in a slow breath before he released it as a quiet sigh. “I don’t want to look like a coward hiding behind you. I want to face him like a man. I’ve never had anyone speak on my behalf, and I’m not going to start now.”
“Stop being so damn stubborn.”
“We talk to him together. That’s my best offer.
” He crossed his arms over his chest, food still on his plate.
He always devoured everything I put in front of him, so it was a testament to how ticked off he was that he ignored his dinner.
“You can be delicate with him, and I can look him in the eye and say my piece.”
That was a reasonable compromise. If Wolfe flew off the handle and started making threats, I’d be there to neutralize things before they went too far south. “Alright.”
“When the dust has settled, we make our move.”
“Alright,” I said in agreement. “That’s fair.”
He stared at me for a moment longer, the short sleeves of his gray shirt hugging the thick muscles in his arms. His head was slightly cocked, his eyes less angry than they’d been a few minutes ago.
“I’ve never done this before, but I know what kind of relationship I want to have.
I want to grab you and kiss you anytime I want, in front of anyone I want, because you’re mine and I can do whatever the hell I want.
This clandestine affair was fine in the beginning, but everything is different now. ”
“It is?” I asked quietly.
All he did was stare at me.
I didn’t press him again. Just let the tension in the air fill my lungs.
“If everyone knew you were my woman, Lombardi wouldn’t have come for you.
No one would.” He cocked his head the other way as he continued to stare me down, a hint of aggression in his expression like we were enemies about to forge a truce.
“No one in their right fucking mind would dare cross me by even looking at you.”
The dishes were left on the table, and we didn’t make it upstairs to bed. He threw me on the couch and pinned me in the corner before he folded me into place. He entered me with a single hard thrust and smashed into my cervix like he wanted to hurt me just to remind me how big a man he was.
My shirt was bunched up above my belly button because he was in too much of a hurry to undress me completely.
His massive dick hurt, but I didn’t tell him to stop because I liked the pain. I liked being with a man so big that my cervix was always in the way. But the tears started in my eyes, not because I was about to come, but because the discomfort continued to grow beyond my tolerance.
He pulled back and only gave me what I could handle. His thrusts slowed down too, and he dipped his face to mine as he kissed the corners of my eyes and caught my tears with his lips.
I hooked my arms around his neck, and I kept him close to me as his thrusts turned into gentle rocks.
I closed my eyes as I felt him continue to kiss my pain away.
Then his mouth moved to mine, and he kissed me hard on the lips with a passion I’d never felt from another man.
He expressed so much emotion without words, embraced me with his affection, made me hurt and then made me feel whole in the same breath.
“Baby, I would die for you. A million fucking times.”