48. ADRIANA
ADRIANA
J oey parked in front of an estate, cutting the engine off. I tilted my head, confusion dancing in my eyes. “Where are we?” I asked.
He grinned widely, stepping out of the car. I followed, meeting him at the hood. He reached out, taking my hand in mine. “Come on,” he said, leading me up the pathway. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket.
“Joey,” I whispered. “What’s going on?”
He squeezed my hand, turning the key and twisting the knob, pushing the door wide open. He turned to me, a smile plastered all over his face. “Ladies first,” he said, stepping aside so I could walk in first.
I crossed the threshold of the house, my eyes scanning the grand foyer. The ceilings were high, the floors marble, and a sweeping staircase with iron railings leading upstairs. Crystal and brass chandeliers hung throughout the downstairs. The place was completely empty—no furniture in sight. And I knew what was happening before I even asked him.
“What is this, Joey?” I asked anyway.
He bridged the gap between us, slipping an arm around my waist. “It’s ours,” he said. “Our house. For you. For Antonio. For us. It’s supposed to be a fresh start for all of us.”
My hand flew to my gaping mouth, tears pooling in my eyes.
“I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? I meant every word, Adriana. I’ll always take care of you.”
He bent down, scooping me up in his arms. My feet left the ground, and my arms wrapped around him. Our laughter echoed off the walls. “It’s perfect,” I said.
He set me down, his hand finding mine as he tugged me toward the living room. It was huge. Velvet curtains hung, parting to reveal the backyard. I rushed to the window, my gaze fixed on the lush view. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that this was mine. Ours.
“Let me show you the best part,” Joey murmured. He stood behind me, his hands gripping my hips as his lips grazed the exposed part of my neck. He guided me forward like this until we reached the kitchen. He spun me around, and I draped my arms over his shoulders, our lips meeting again.
“You know, most people get engaged, get married, buy a house, and have babies.” I grinned against his lips.
He smirked, pulling me closer, his voice rough against my lips. “We’re not most people, Adriana. We make our own damn rules.”
There was something powerful about those words. We make our own rules. I knew Joey lived by his own code, but now, so did I.
I tugged his lips back down to meet mine. My tongue slipped between his lips to taste him.
“You like that?” He chuckled, his forehead resting against mine. “You want to make your own damn rules? Feel powerful, like you’re in control?”
Yeah, starting now.
My fingers trailed down his body, and his eyes darkened the lower I went. I flashed an innocent smile, batting my lashes as I undid his trousers. “Adriana,” he murmured. “What are you doing?”
“You know what I’m doing.”
I pushed his trousers down, watching as they fell to the cool marble floor beneath us. I followed them down, sinking to my knees. I held all the control, and I could see in his glazed eyes that he was aware of this, as well.
He sucked in a sharp breath as I wrapped my fingers around the base of him, guiding him into my mouth and pumping my hand, up and down his shaft. My eyes never left his as I took him in, inch by inch, savoring the feeling of him growing harder against my tongue.
I loved watching him let his guard crumble to the floor. Just for me. He let out a low groan, his body falling back against the kitchen counter.
Our kitchen counter.
"Oh fuck," he rasped. Tears pooled at the corners of my eyes, blurring the already hazy world around me. His hand tangled in my hair, using it as leverage, pushing my head back and forth, a brutal, intoxicating rhythm against the hard length of him. My hands dug into the muscles of his thighs.
His eyes locked onto mine, the distance between us shrinking to practically nothing. His breath came out hot and ragged. He was so close I could smell his musky scent. A desperate, aching hunger pulsed low in my belly. I pushed myself up from the marble floor, untangling myself from the fabric of my dress. A smirk danced along my lips as I saw him braced against the counter, knuckles white where his fingers gripped the cool surface, muscles in his forearms straining. His eyes, once blue, were now full of lust and desire—they burned straight through me.
He moved before I could even process my next move. His hand reached out, the back of his fingers brushing against the nape of my neck, pulling my body closer until my lips met his. Our tongues tangled in a hungry, desperate dance. A moan escaped from deep within my chest, lost within our kiss.
His arms lifted me, placing me on the countertop. His hands gripped my hips, and he dropped to his knees. My head fell back, a sigh escaping my lips as his hot breath fanned against my inner thigh where his stubble brushed against my skin.
His mouth latched onto me, claiming my slick core as his own. My legs threatened to tighten around his head. My hands flew out, desperate for stability, reaching for something solid as he lapped at my core. I tugged at the back of his head, pressing him even closer, feeling the pull in the pit of my stomach. A cry, half-pleasure, half-surrender, tore out from my throat.
He rose to his feet, leaving me no chance to recover. His hands nudged my legs apart, making way for him. Before I could process anything, we were connected with a single thrust forward. His hand cradled my breast, finding my nipple, tugging it between his teeth. My hand found its way to the back of his head, clinging to him in any way possible. His thrusts were so unforgiving. As if this was the last time he would ever have the chance to make love to me.
“Joey!” I yelped, the sound torn from my throat as the tightening in the pit of my stomach heightened. It was the prelude to the storm, the gathering of an orgasm that threatened to shatter me. My fingers clenched onto the cool surface beneath me.
He didn’t hear me. He didn’t falter. He didn’t pull back. He just kept going, the rhythm of his movements frantic, his hand firm on my lower back, urging me closer. Harder. Faster. Each thrust was sharp. Deliberate. I could feel the muscles in his back contract with each surge forward. A wave of pure, Earth-shattering bliss ripped through my body. I cried out again, spilling out over the cold, hard counter.
I reached for him, my hand finding the rough stubble of his jaw. I pulled his face towards mine, forcing his eyes—dilated and dark with lust—to meet mine. His lips were on mine. Not gentle, not tentative, but possessive. Demanding. His mouth moved against mine, sucking, claiming, pulling me into him.
"I love you," he murmured, his breath mingling with mine. His body, damp and glistening with sweat, was pressed against me. "Tell me," he demanded. "Tell me, Adriana." He wanted to hear it, to witness the effect he had on me, to claim the words that were struggling to escape my lips.
I tried, but my vocal cords were useless. His hips surged forward, sharp and insistent thrusts that stole my breath away. I watched as a smirk curled at his lips. His thumb found its way between us, teasing and tormenting my heat. My head fell back, my eyes rolling back.
All I could do was silently praise God for this man.
"I love you!" I shouted, the words escaping my lips, free from the confines of my throat. "I love you!" I shouted again.
I felt the warmth of his release fill me. His body collapsed against mine as my arms wrapped around him, holding him close. Tight.
"What a great way to break in the new counters." His chuckle rumbled against my chest. He lifted his head, his eyes locking with mine, meeting the smile that stretched across my face.
"Welcome home, honey," I teased.
"Is this the kind of greeting I'll be getting when I come home every day?" he asked, his hands helping me off the counter.
We gathered our clothes and got dressed, settling into his car. We lingered in the silence outside, just gazing upon the place we would call home. I waited for him to pull out of the driveway, but he didn’t move, didn’t reverse. His eyes met mine, and he reached across the console, his hand gripping mine.
“I need to tell you something,” he said. “And I need you to listen to me.” A chill ran through me as I nodded, waiting. “Tomorrow night, I’ve got a meeting,” he began, pausing as though the words pained him. “I don’t know how it’s going to end. But everything I have left—it’s yours. Paul and Marco will come by after and show you where the money’s stashed. They’ll look after you. I made sure of it.”
I hadn’t noticed the tears spilling down my face until he stopped speaking, and my sobs were all that could be heard, his head dipping low like he couldn’t bear to look at me. “What do you mean if something happens to you?” I choked.
His eyes lifted, locking onto mine. That knowing look shattered me. I couldn’t believe this. I should have known the day would come. They would take him from me. “No,” I sobbed. “No, Joey. They can’t take you from me.”
He reached for me, cupping my face in his palms. I clung to his shirt, desperate to keep him tethered to me. Tangible. Present. Alive.
“We can run,” I begged.
He pressed his lips to my forehead, his breath warm, but his words ice cold. “No, we can’t.”
“Then I won’t let you go!” I protested.
He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m just preparing you for the worst-case scenario,” he said.
“You’re saying that because you know it’s going to happen!” I cried out.
He sighed, tugging his lower lip between his teeth. “I love you,” he said, his voice threatening to break. “I’ve never known love before you. And if I have to go—whether tomorrow or fifty years from now—I’ll die a happy man, because of you.”