Chapter 6
SAINT
It’s wrong to get a hard dick when you’re standing up at your brother’s wedding ceremony before an audience of friends and family, including your very own Zia Maria.
I know this.
But apparently, my cock is like Pavlov’s dogs. Instead of being triggered by a ringing bell, it’s the mere sight of her that does it.
Isla.
Luna’s best goddamn friend.
Yeah, I fucked the maid of honor at my brother’s wedding. Best man, so clearly not on my best behavior.
Even worse? I have to escort her down the aisle with a smile on my face like I don’t want to carry her out of here caveman-style and fuck her eleven ways from Sunday.
Grinding my jaw, I offer her my arm. She looks at it like it’s a used tissue on a public bathroom floor and reluctantly settles her hand in the crook of my elbow.
Her touch burns me through the linen shirt I’ve been forced to wear by Luna, and the scent I remember from our night of endless fucking makes a reemergence. Isla smells like pineapple and citrus, like something sweet you want to sink your teeth into.
The violinist is playing a new song, one I can’t place, but it’s upbeat. Pop turned into string music. Luna’s idea. Priest wouldn’t give a shit if any music played at all. He just wanted to make his woman happy.
I cast a glance in Isla’s direction as we move up the sandy aisle that’s been strewn with white petals. She refuses to look at me, an ice queen with her blonde hair down her back. Freed from the messy travel bun, the silken strands are wavy, glinting in the sun.
She looks fucking incredible.
Also, her nipples are hard again. I probably shouldn’t be admiring the way her tits fill out her dress or the way the blue silk lovingly clings to her every killer curve like that’s its only job.
I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about how she looked on her knees for me, my cock in her mouth.
How it felt, her taking me down her throat.
Fuck.
I force myself to think about something else as we reach the end of the guests and follow Priest and Luna onto a shaded terrace where the photographers have gathered for more pictures.
Zia Maria. Kittens. Weeping women. Little kids with snot running down their faces.
Screaming babies. The sound a bone makes when it breaks. The sour scent of vomit.
That finally works. Sweat is trickling down my spine by now, and I don’t know if it’s from the intensity of the sun or the fact that I want the woman at my side so badly I can barely breathe.
We’re going to have to pose for pictures? Fuck. My. Life.
Priest and Luna turn to us, both of them grinning widely. “We did it!”
Isla drops my arm like it caught fire and moves a few feet away from me. “Congratulations, you two!”
It’s not like I want her to be clingy or to get any ideas. What happened between us was a one-and-done deal, and it can’t happen again. Especially not now that I know who she is. My old man always said never to shit where you eat, and as far as I’m concerned, hooking up with Isla is exactly that.
But it’s annoying me, the way she refuses to even look at me.
“Congrats, frattore mio,” I tell my brother easily, going to him and slapping him on the back, shaking off Isla’s rejection.
Which, for the record, I’m not used to.
“Time for pictures,” Luna announces.
Behind me, Scorpion and Lucky groan in unison.
They’ve got Luna’s bridesmaids, our cousins Carina and Francesca, on their arms. The cousins are on our father’s side, and we were never all that close, but Luna being a part of the family has changed things.
Carina and Francesca have taken her under their wing.
“No complaining,” Carina snaps.
“Yeah,” I agree, grinning evilly at them. “Behave, stronzi.”
If I have to suffer through all this wedding shit, then they do too.
Besides, it’s the least we can do for Priest. He’s a damn good leader, and he’s shown it.
He’s also united the warring factions of the Andrianis and Revellos back into one big family.
We’re thriving because of the sacrifices he made, and he put his life on the line to get us here.
“I need some fucking air conditioning,” Lucky complains.
“You can have air conditioning later,” Luna says. “We’re doing pictures now. I want everyone smiling. Don’t look like you’re hot and ruin it. I mean it, Lucky.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” I ask, repeatedly wafting my shirt to fan myself. “I am hot. I can’t help it. But I haven’t had any complaints.”
Priest snorts. I shoot a glance in Isla’s direction, but she’s not looking at me. She’s staring at her bare toes. Fair enough, they are sexy toes, and now I know why they’re painted blue. The color matches her dress perfectly.
Suddenly, something else catches my eye.
There’s a faint bruise on her throat that I didn’t notice earlier in all my distraction.
She’s covered it with makeup, but in the sunlight, the mottled coloring is visible underneath.
For a split second, blood lust roars through me.
I’ll kill whoever dared to hurt her. I’ll cut off his fingers first, and then I’ll put a nine millie in each kneecap just to see how much he squeals…
And then I realize it’s not that kind of bruise.
It’s a hickey.
And it’s from me.
I recall having my face in her neck while my cock was deep in her wet pussy.
I lost control, biting and sucking on her throat when she clamped down on me like a vise, and I came hard enough that all I could do was suck on her throat and groan.
In my defense, it was the third round of fucking we’d engaged in that night.
I kind of like seeing her wear me on her skin.
I also want to see her wearing my come.
But I can’t. And thinking about that is only making my cock wake up again.
You’re here for pictures, I remind myself. Don’t fuck up Priest and Luna’s wedding day any more than you already have by dicking the maid of honor.
“Very funny,” Luna tells me, giving me a death stare. “No shit-eating grins in the pictures, Saint. And Scorpion, a real smile. Not that little half-assed smug thing you do.”
I give Luna a shit-eating grin in response because I like busting her balls.
“I don’t do anything half-assed,” Scorpion defends himself, sounding insulted. “How’s this?”
The smile he gives Luna is borderline serial killer.
She rolls her eyes and turns back to the photographer, who’s waiting with her camera at the ready. “Where do you want us?”
“Let’s do the bride and groom first,” the woman says. “If the whole wedding party could just follow me down to the water? That way, I’ll have you all where I need you. Then we’ll move inside for some shots in the hotel.”
Inside and outside pictures? Clip me now and get it over with, for fuck’s sake. I haven’t awkwardly posed and pasted a canned smile to my lips since senior prom pictures in high school.
Scorpion and Lucky are also grumbling, but we all tag along, trailing in Priest and Luna’s wake to the ocean.
Isla keeps her distance from me, no doubt because we no longer have an audience.
The guests have milled into the reception area for cocktail hour.
That’s fine by me. The sooner this is over with and I never have to see her again, the sooner I can forget about her.
The photographer wastes no time in arranging the bride and groom how she wants them.
The first pose is them holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes like some kind of Valentine’s Day jewelry commercial.
The ring on Luna’s finger sparkles in the sun along with the fortune in diamonds twinkling at her throat and ears.
I could talk to my brothers and my cousins, who are huddled off to the side, arguing over something. Francesca is one of the most opinionated women I’ve ever met, and Carina isn’t far behind. Lucky and Scorpion are never going to win, and I’m not in the mood for squabbling.
Fuck it. I decide to move closer to Isla, who’s hovering nearby, watching Luna and Priest posing.
She tenses up, flicking a glance in my direction before looking away again.
The sand is hot under my bare feet, but I don’t give a shit.
Her nipples are saluting me through her dress, and I know it’s because she’s remembering every filthy thing we did together.
I am too.
And just like that, my cock is hard again.
Terrible timing. I shift in the sand, hoping the loose-fitting trousers also handpicked by Luna are forgiving enough that Isla won’t notice. I’m not too sure about that. My dick is a monster.
I step to the side, moving in on Isla, until she’s eclipsed by my shadow. She’s a short thing, and I love that about her. Only comes up to my chest. Not that it matters. Whatever recklessness collided between us two nights ago can never be repeated.
I’m testing the waters. Intimidating her. I wonder if she’ll move away.
Isla holds her ground, staying put. Priest is twirling Luna now, and she’s spinning and laughing.
I have to look away from their happiness.
They deserve this. They’ve earned this carefree, sun-drenched wedding day.
But in my experience, the other shoe is always waiting to drop. Right on your fucking head.
I glance back at Isla, studying her profile.
A gentle breeze stirs her hair, carrying the faint, sweet scent of her perfume back to me.
Her full, sultry lips are compressed in an annoyed line, her jaw taut like she’s clenching it.
I wonder how long it’ll take for her to crack.
She doesn’t like me standing this close.
“So,” she murmurs softly, finally, turning to look at me. “Investor, huh?”
She’s gorgeous, a sprinkle of freckles on her nose, long lashes framing her bright-green eyes, that pink mouth I fucked just begging for more.
“I wasn’t lying about that,” I tell her, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
We do invest in hundreds of business ventures, legal and otherwise. This hotel, for instance.
Her eyes narrow. “Criminal, thug, and professional murderer don’t have as much of a ring to them, I suppose.”
And instantly, it hits me. She’s not upset that she hooked up with the best man at her friend’s wedding.
She’s upset that the best man turned out to be in the Mafia.
I didn’t expect that kind of reaction from a friend of Luna’s, and given the wealth and power we’ve amassed, it’s not one I get often anymore.
“So that’s what crawled up your ass,” I say coldly. “Having a hard time accepting that you fucked a mobster, Jane Austen?”
Her eyes go wide, and she shoots a look around to see if anyone else overheard. “Watch what you say.”
“I don’t think I like your tone,” I tell her, an edge of warning in my voice.
This wedding is a world away from the one we usually inhabit, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let her insult me to my fucking face without consequences. Or be judged by her. I’ve had enough of that shit to last me a lifetime already.
“Is that so?” Her expression turns stubborn. “What are you going to do about my tone?”
I flash her a grin. “I don’t think you want to find out, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart.”
“Don’t threaten me. You won’t like the result.”
Our eyes are locked. I won’t be the one to blink first.
She looks away, green eyes settling on Priest and Luna. He’s holding her in his arms now as the photographer snaps away.
“I wasn’t threatening you,” Isla says.
I lower my head, my mouth close to her ear. “Sounded like you were to me. And I don’t take threats lightly.”
I straighten just in time for the photographer to tell the rest of the wedding party to join the bride and groom for more snaps. Moving away from Isla, I join my brother and sister-in-law, pasting on a smile.