Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
G aetano
Christ, I’m exhausted. It’s almost three in the morning, and all I wanted to do when I got home was fall into bed. But I couldn’t with the sweat and heat of the day on me. I grab a pair of boxers and run the towel through my hair to dry it.
My doorbell going off pulls a curse from me. Snatching my phone off the bedside table, I open up my doorbell camera to see who the fuck it is. Bianca’s face fills the screen, red and swollen from crying. I move fast to my closet and pull out a white undershirt. Putting it on, I open the door. I don’t get a word out before she throws herself at me.
Catching her close, I pick her up and carry her inside. Fucking hell, her tears are clawing at my chest.
I’m in the recliner with her in my lap. Her face buried in my neck, the air out of her shudders with every breath.
“What’s the matter, baby? Talk to me.” I run a hand through her hair.
“Sandro, he’s not talking to me. You have to call him, please. He’ll answer if you call him. I need to tell him that I’ll be good. I promise.”
Fuck, it kills me how desperate she sounds. If he were standing in front of me, I’d deck his ass. “I can’t, Bianca. I’ll talk to him for you. What do you need me to tell him?”
“I’m sorry. Tell him that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It was just a ring. I’ll do better.” She babbles.
“It’s okay, angel. Everything is going to be okay.”
She shakes her head. “He’s going to leave, too. They always leave. My dad left without looking back—he never tried once to see me before he died. For more than a decade, he lived less than fifteen minutes away and never once tried to see me. Marissa didn’t even say goodbye. What’s the matter with me, Gaetano? I try to be good, I try so damn hard. What can I do to make them stay?”
This woman, her pain is more than I can bear. I tighten my arms around her. “It’s not you, angel. You’re perfect. You don’t have to do anything.”
“But they all leave. My mom, my dad, Marissa, and now Sandro. None of them ever want to stay.” She’s crying again, deep-wrenching sobs.
I carry her into my room. “Breathe for me. Take a deep breath. You’re going to make yourself sick. I promise it’s going to be okay.”
Setting her down on my bed, I move to grab a washcloth to clean her up. She’s overheated.
Small hands cling to me. “Please, no.”
“Okay, I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” I open my bedside table and take out the bottle.
“What is that?”
“It’s Xanax. It will calm you down. Just two.” I shake out the small pills.
“No gummies? I thought you didn’t like these.”
I shake my head. “My resistance to them got too high. I don’t love these, but they work better at knocking me out. So I take them while I give the THC a few months off for the lower dose to start working again.”
Sighing, she nods.
“Let me grab a glass of water.” She lets me go, and I’m back in less than thirty seconds.
Sniffling, she opens her hand. Her nose wrinkles as she swallows the pills. “You’ll tell him, Sandro. You promised.”
“I promise. I’ll tell him, angel.” I assure her.
She burrows into me, holding me tight.
I’m relieved when she slips into sleep. Even though I’m exhausted, the stress of how upset she is and what the hell I’m going to do to Sandro for hurting her won’t let me sleep.
A text sounds, it’s Sandro. Carefully, I extract myself from the hold Bianca has on me. I hit send on the call before I’m out of my room. Anger at him has me speaking without thought. “Do you have any idea how long it took to get your sister to sleep? She cried so hard she made herself sick. That was fucking cruel to do to her.”
“What the fuck did you say to me?” Is cold, and if he were in front of me, it might have come to blows.
Shit. I work to calm myself. What the hell am I doing? My exhale is long and slow. “I apologize. But jesus fucking christ Sandro, she spent hours crying on me. She kept fucking hugging me and pleading for me to call you for her because she knew you’d answer if I called.”
“I apologize. I didn’t think she’d go to you, of all people. She shouldn’t have done that. Did you kill her?”
I force a laugh. That’s right. I’m supposed to think she’s a brat and pain in the ass—not the only thing in this world I want more than air to breathe. “I swear, if she weren’t your sister, I would have. In the end, I said fuck it and stuffed two zannies down her throat to get her to calm down. It still took her a solid hour to fall asleep. And she’s in my damn bed. I’m trying to sleep in my fucking recliner that always ruins my back for a few days when I fall asleep in it.”
I’m lying to him, so he has no idea how close I am to breaking every promise I made not to touch her.
“I apologize. When I get back Saturday night, I’ll handle her.”
“You’re really going to stay silent on her until then?” No fucking way is she going to be able to go until Saturday without talking to him.
“Right this minute, yeah. I don’t know what to say to her. If I don’t know, I don’t want to make it worse.”
How could he be so damn cruel to her? “All this because of a ring?”
“Typical Bianca, burying the lead. She picked a big ass rock that Carina hated. Bianca admitted she thought it was ugly. She called Carina a slut and said she only cared about money. Apparently, she went social media stalking and drew her own conclusions.”
Shit. There’s nothing he hates more than women being called sluts. “Look, I get it. She’s protective of you, though. She probably thought she was saying what you didn’t think you could. You made it clear you weren’t happy you were being forced to marry to take over. Maybe give her a break. Bianca is a brat, but you had a hand in making her this way.”
“Okay, you’re right. I’ll unblock her. Let her know to give me a call when she’s up, and I’ll talk to her.”
Thank fuck. I try to think of what the man who thinks she’s a pain in the ass would say. What I want to say is that if he ever makes her cry again, I’ll kick his ass. “Thank you. Can you tell her to go home after that?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I will. And thanks for taking care of her. I get it wasn’t easy for you.”
“That’s my good deed for the year,” I murmur as I end the call.
Bianca
My stomach is twisting so hard it hurts. Gaetano thought I was a pain in the ass. Oh god. Stupid. I’m so stupid to have come to him. Legs weak, I make my way back to the bed. All I want is to go back to sleep and pretend I never heard him.
There can never be anything to feel, he said years ago. Because if Sandro found out, he’d kill him. I came to Gaetano for help with the hope there could be something after all. I’ve never forgotten what Tracy said—since Sandro loved me, he would make sure I had whatever made me happy, even if that meant someone in the Outfit. With how fiercely Sandro swore he’d kill someone I wanted if they were in the Outfit, I didn’t dare think she could be right.
That was before Sandro hung up on me and wouldn’t speak to me over one mistake. Reminding me that no one stayed. If he was going to leave me too, maybe I could have Gaetano, and I wouldn’t be alone. But I was wrong, Gaetano didn’t want me.
“Bianca.” I find him crouching down in front of me, those black eyes soft and concerned.
In all these years, it’s the first time I’ve ever seen that—concern for me—for anyone. I’m confused. Why is he concerned if he thinks I’m a pain in the ass?
Only now am I able to take him in fully. He’s in a plain white undershirt and silky black boxers. The shirt is thin enough that I can see a thick mat of hair covering his chest. I’d felt it beneath my cheek as he held me while I cried. When Gaetano held me, I swear it felt like everything was going to be okay because he said so. It didn’t matter how big and strong he was, I felt safe with how gently he held me.
“I talked to Sandro. He’s willing and wants to talk to you.”
Ten minutes ago, I would have fallen over myself to talk to Sandro. Now, all I do is shake my head. I don’t want to talk to him. The only thing I want is Gaetano.
A hand cups my face, rubbing a thumb over my cheek. “Please don’t cry, angel. I’ll talk to him. He’s not going to leave you. I promise you that.”
Still, with the electricity that has my toes curling within my shoes. “Do you want me to leave?”
His sigh is heavy. “I don’t want you to go if you aren’t okay. I’m sorry you heard me say it. Sandro would lose his shit if he knew I wasn’t sleeping in the recliner.”
“So you lied to him.”
A small nod.
“I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here with you in your bed. But this time, I want you here with me.”
He squeezes his eyes shut. I know what’s coming. Determined to stop it, I lean forward and press my lips to his. It’s been years since the make-out session I had with a boy at Joanna’s sixteenth birthday party—the only time I’ve ever kissed someone. I pray he can’t tell how little I know what I’m doing.
His gasp is loud enough to fill the room and matches my own body’s reaction—it’s as though I’ve fallen onto an electric fence. Every cell in my body is shocked into awareness, and a need for more. The gasp opens his mouth to mine, and I thrust my tongue inside. A groan comes from him as a hand goes into my hair and holds me in place.
Gentle, sweet, his kiss is nothing like I imagined it would be. He isn’t a conquering savage demanding I surrender to him. Yet I do—I don’t dare hold back a single thing. I’m terrified he’ll stop if I don’t. Anything he wants, I’ll give him, the blood in my veins, the air I breathe, everything in me belongs to him.
Velvet, hot and wet explores every inch of me until my whole world is spinning fast and furious, like I’m caught in a tornado. Gaetano is my anchor, the only thing to keep me from spinning out of control. I cling to him, desperate for more of his touch, his kiss, his body against mine.
When my back meets the bed, I almost cry from relief. Yes, it’s happening, finally.
As if I said the words aloud, Gaetano goes still and tears his mouth from mine. “We can’t. No. Bianca. This can’t happen.”
Winding my arms around his neck, I refuse to let him go. “Yes, we can. Please, Gaetano.”
I thrust my hips against his and find him so hard, a prickle of fear hits me at what he’ll feel like inside me. Oh god, that’s going to hurt…
The memory slams into me: Gaetano’s hands on my hips as he grinds his hard cock into my ass. The words gritted into my neck, if it felt like he didn’t think I was sexy. Fear of how large he was and if it would hurt when we made love was there, then fell away as I slipped into sleep.
It had to have happened when I was here—the first gummy that knocked me out. Gaetano wanted me, has wanted me for three years. But he wasn’t willing to betray his best friend, my brother. My brother, who was now taking over Las Vegas, and Gaetano would now be his second. There would be no escaping Gaetano unless I was the one to leave.
Leave him? No. I won’t. I can’t . Not now that I know he wants me as badly as I want him. I’m not walking away from him. And I’m done making it easy for him to. This is bullshit. I’m so fucking sick of following all the rules, being the good girl, because there has never been one single reward. I have Sandro hanging up on me and Gaetano walking away from me for three long years.
“Your brother?—”
“Isn’t here. You said that I was the only good thing in his life, and he won’t allow someone as dirty and damaged as you to touch me and ruin me.” He goes pale. “Yes, I remembered. Funny how the mind works. The one time you were lucky that I forgot. All these years, you lied to me. I’m tired, so tired of living with this longing. Aren’t you, too?” I run a hand over his cheek. “It feels like you are. Do you want me to beg? Is that what you want? I’ll do it?—”
This time, his mouth is savage, hungry, and greedy. He tastes of dark chocolate, sinfully bittersweet as it melts on my tongue. I don’t care if my lungs are screaming for air, I need him more. I need his heat to combat the one raging through me, burning me from the inside out until I wonder if I’m going to explode because I don’t know how it can be contained within me for another second more.
When he tears his mouth from mine, it’s like he’s tearing away strips of my skin, leaving me tender to the touch.
Burying my hands in his thick hair, I long to bring his mouth back to mine, but he’s already moving down my throat at turns, licking, sucking, and biting until I wonder if he’s trying to drive me out of my mind.
My hands are greedy as they roam over him. Hard muscle and tight sinew flex and move beneath my greedy hands. After all these years of longing, touching him is a dream come true and one I’m terrified I’ll wake up from.
He goes to his knees, and I want to cry from the loss of his hard body on mine. I blink, and his shirt is gone. His body is a marble statue come to life, as though hands lovingly created him from stone.
I do it without thinking, wanting to meet him as he is. The long, worn shirt I threw on to come to him is pulled off and tossed aside. Air leaves him in a hiss.
“Beautiful, so fucking beautiful.” Is a whisper that matches the light touch of his hand running over me from my stomach to between my breasts. Two fingers flick open the catch of the bra.
He groans as he falls on me, his mouth catching a painfully tight nipple and sucking deep. How is exquisite pleasure so damn close to torture that I can’t tell the difference between the two? His tongue is toying with the nipple as he sucks, and I can’t stand it. I need more. I need him to stop.
Until the moment he does stop and I cry out from the loss. Oh, thank god he’s moving to my other breast and beginning the same torture there. Sucking deep, that hot, wet velvet tongue is driving me crazy. Deeper and deeper, he’s driving me beneath waves of pleasure I can’t escape from. I don’t want to escape either, but I need him with me as I fall below them. I’m terrified of being lost in the big, vast ocean without him.
Moving back to the other breast is done so fast that I barely have time to take it in. All I know is he’s toying with me, licking, sucking lightly, not as hard as he was before. It’s not enough, I need more. Suck harder, please. Please suck harder.
Finally, he’s giving me what I’m begging for, sucking until I wonder if he’ll leave a bruise— perfect . More, please. I’m there, on the edge of the cliff, about to fall before he goes to the other breast again. I’m battling back a scream as he kisses down my body, leaving licks of fire in his wake.
He’s off the bed entirely, rough hands catching me at my ass and squeezing me hard. Then his fingers catch the waistband of both the leggings I’m wearing and my panties. He pulls them off me with one fierce tug.
The heat from his gaze as those black eyes run over me is causing the air to shimmer, it’s so hot. Any other time, I would be self-conscious, desperate to hide, but all I feel is pride in the way he’s staring at me. I watch his body harden until I wonder if he’ll break if I touch him.
Parting my legs, I sigh. “Are you going to stare at me all night?”
“This isn’t a dream.” The words are barely a whisper.
I have no idea why those words feel as though he reached into my chest and squeezed my heart with that huge hand of his. I shake my head. “No dream.”
A finger glides from the top of my foot over my ankle, and up my leg, so slowly I feel every ridge of his fingerprint as though he were leaving that fingerprint to mark me as his.
“Thank fuck you aren’t bare. I don’t need to feel like more of a lecher than I already do.” He murmurs.
The back of the finger runs over lower lips slick with desire for him. I can’t look away as he sucks deep on his finger. “Sweet as sugar.”
I blink, and he’s down on the bed between my spread legs. Large hands grip my thighs, holding me open for his mouth. “This is the prettiest pink pussy I have ever seen. So fucking pretty. Every damn inch of you is perfect.”
At first, his tongue is gentle as it runs over my outer lips, then down to where I feel liquid need pooling. Long, languid licking is followed by gentle sucking. Throaty moans vibrate from him into me until I feel them in the deepest heart of me.
Velvet glides over me, then deep inside. His wicked tongue mimics what I’m desperate for, stabbing into me again and again. When he stops, I want to scream.
“Delicious, your juice is so damn sweet I could eat you for hours and never be full.”
The lightest touch of his tongue to my clit sends my hips up for more, and the bastard chuckles—the hot air washing over me.
“Gaetano, please. Please.” I’m begging him.
“Almost, angel, a little more patience.” He whispers against my skin.
Oh god, I can’t take much more. I gasp as I realize two thick fingers are pushing deep inside me. No, I don’t want his fingers I want his cock inside me.
“Fuck. You’re so tight. Has anyone been inside you, angel?”
I’m shaking my head and moaning. “No.”
“Good, one less man I have to kill.” He says in Italian. “But that means this is going to hurt. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Gaetano is raging.
He’s up, pushing away from the bed. Standing, he sways and sends a hand out to the wall to hold himself up.
“What? It’s fine. I’m okay with the pain.” I’m desperate to reassure him.
“It’s not that. I don’t have protection.” Is gritted out as he turns away.
The lie is out before I think about it. “I’m on the pill.”
His black eyes swing back to me. “How are you on the pill if you’ve never?—”
Since it’s the truth, I don’t hesitate. “Because it’s about more than birth control. I started taking it when I first went to school for that. In case I found someone…you know. But then I went off it.” When I knew if I couldn’t have Gaetano, I didn’t want anyone. “I realized it helped with my periods not being so heavy. So I kept taking it.”
He doesn’t have to know I refilled it, but I stopped taking it almost by accident when I forgot to pack it for my trip to Rome and haven’t taken it since. I’ll start taking them again. I swear, but if he stops now, I’m going to die.