Chapter 5
Aron
I don’t know what Matt supposedly did, but he’s got the don’s panties in a bunch over it.
I can’t see Matt. Like, at all. The order came down from Tito himself while Dad was informing my best friend of the consequences of his actions, which no one will explain to me. What the fuck did he do?
The rumor mill gets to me before Matt can. I didn’t know it, but Tito had his tech guys block Matt’s number from my phone for a few days. Nothing harmful, but it’s gonna piss Matt off.
I hear from Vinny who heard from Beto who swears he witnessed it that Matt got the shit kicked out of him by Tito. At first, I’m not sure what to believe. Tito has thrown a few punches in his day, sure, but to beat the crap out of his own son? I don’t know …
Then Tito calls and tells me to take a week off. Tend to Emily. “Don’t worry about Matteo,” he says. “He’s fine.”
That alone tells me that he’s not fine, that something happened. I’ve known Tito my whole life. I can’t imagine him hurting Matt too seriously, but the fact that he’s warning me away is a sure sign that it’s bad enough.
Matt and I know the rules as well as anyone: If Tito dishes out the punishment, no treatment is allowed. Matt’s on his own.
Fuck, this sucks. Matt needs me.
I have Emily’s phone in my hand before I realize what I’m doing. I slam it on the end table and back away. Shit, I almost called Matt from her phone! What am I doing? That could get her in trouble … Matt, too, if anyone in the Syndicate finds out.
Gotta find a burner phone. All the ones I have on hand were supplied by the Syndicate, so I can’t use those. Would Emily notice if I disappeared for an hour or so to grab a new one and check on Matt?
“Hey, Em? Honey?”
She answers from the kitchen. “In here, babe. Need something?”
I find her on a footstool, stretching to reach something in an upper cabinet.
I’ve warned her a thousand times to get me if she needs anything up high, but she’s as stubborn as Matt, and just about as hard-headed.
“Em, sweetie, be careful. If you fall, you’re falling for two, you know. Your balance isn’t what it used to be.”
The smile she flashes me as she steps down daintily is radiant. “Oh, hush. I’m fine. See? No catastrophe.”
“Nothing catastrophic this time. Next time, ask me, please.”
“Nonsense. You’ve been busy with work calls.” Emily brushes a golden curl out of her face, leaving a smear of flour in its place. “Everything okay at work? It’s not like them to give you so much time off.”
I laugh away her concern and wipe the flour off with a kitchen towel before kissing the spot. “It’s fine. My boss is taking a brief leave of absence, so I’m not really needed right now.”
“A brief leave of absence, huh? He’s not sleeping with the fishes, then?”
That earns an eyeroll and another kiss, this time on the lips. “Nice try, honey. You know I can’t talk about my boss’s line of work. Suffice it to say that he’s fine. No fish sleepovers.”
Her cheeks dimple as she grins up at me. “Did you need something?” she asks again. “You called for me.”
“I’m going into town for a bit to pick up some things. Do you and the baby need anything?”
“Just you to safely return.” I swear, that smile makes my heart race every time. “And maybe some mustard. I’ve been craving it with my ice cream.”
“I thought pregnant women wanted pickles with their ice cream.”
Emily shrugs. “Well, the baby wants mustard this week. So, some mustard, maybe some rocky road, a bit of salt, and some Nerds.”
My stomach churns at her order. “Please tell me that’s not all for the same meal.”
Her hands reach for my belt, and I watch with excitement as she deftly unbuckles it. “They’re for dessert. The meal comes before.”
“Emily … I have to get to the store before it closes …”
The striking blue of her eyes peeks at me from beneath her lashes as she looks up at me. “I’ll make it quick.”
When she pulls my hard cock out of my slacks, it throbs in her touch. Her soft, pink tongue laps at the tip before she settles on her knees in front of me and starts to suck.
Dear God in Heaven, I’ve needed this. Em’s been standoffish in the bedroom lately.
Watching Matt fuck around every day has riled me up, and I haven’t had an outlet.
I dig my fingers in her curls and thrust into her mouth in a slow, sensual rhythm.
Emily hums around me and gazes up as a thin stream of drool slides down her chin.
Then something happens … a change in my vision. In the briefest of flashes, I see Matt’s face in those blue eyes, not Emily. The image disappears as quickly as it appeared, but it was there all the same.
Not again.
Closing my eyes, I focus on the sensations Emily’s giving me. If I just listen to her moans, smell her perfume, feel her lips … her throat …
The increased focus helps me along, and I finally come with Emily’s face on my mind.
As it should be.
I help her back to her feet and wipe my spilled seed from her chin with the towel. She flashes her beautiful smile, and suddenly I can’t be without her. Not for even one minute.
“Come to the store with me. We can pick out whatever you’re craving.”
Emily pouts. “I don’t want to do all that walking. My feet hurt.”
“I’ll carry you if I have to.” I grin playfully at her. “Maybe I can put you in the cart. You’re small; you’d fit.”
She swats at my arm, but after a bit of back and forth she agrees to go.
Something nags at the back of my mind as we shop, but I can’t figure out what’s bothering me. It’s like I forgot something important. All I can think about, though, is Emily and her smile as she drags me down the aisles, putting the most disgusting combinations of food in the cart for later.
She’s so fucking beautiful. So exuberant, so full of joy. How could I have let Matt’s face slip into my consciousness while those gorgeous red lips were around my cock? I swear, I must be losing it.
Too much work on the brain.
Forcing Matt and his dilemma from my mind, I follow my wife through the store. She adds some larger items to the cart, more kitchen appliances that we really don’t need, but I gladly pay for it all at the register. No complaints.
Whatever she wants.
On the drive home, Emily chatters on about the baby, pushing me to help her pick a name.
“We’ve got time, Em. The name will come to us when it comes to us. Don’t worry so much.”
“But Aron, you were raised Catholic,” she argues. “I know you’ll want her baptized as soon as we can. We need a name for that.”
Silly girl. “And we have time. Calm down.” I reach out to stroke her hair at the next stop light. “Listen, tell you what: We’ll work on it while I’m off duty. We’ll get all those name books you made me buy, and we’ll pick the perfect name for her.”
Emily leans into my touch. “Thank you. It means a lot to me that we’re in this together.”