Chapter 20
KINGSTON
I scroll through my texts the next morning, swiping past the ones from my father. My lips twist at the memory of our terse conversation in the hospital. At least he’d waited until I was somewhat fucking lucid before the verbal lashing began.
He went on a tirade, pacing the length of the hospital bed as he berated me for trusting my wife.
“You’re too focused on screwing that girl. You need to get your head in the game,” he growled right as I was coming off the pain meds. “She obviously set you up outside that club and committed the worst betrayal. Do you realize how fucking weak you looked?”
“She didn’t know where we were going,” I remember saying. "There'd have been no way she could have orchestrated that attack.”
Although, a little seed of doubt sprouted in the depths of my drug-clouded mind.
Could she have sent a text when I wasn’t paying attention? I’d been plenty distracted by her lips on my cock while we were at Lincoln Center. Maybe she palmed her phone then and put someone in position to follow us.
My father glares at me. “You’re my underboss, the man who is the future of the Viacava family. And yet you let that whore jeopardize your future. I didn’t realize how easily you’d be led around by your dick,” he scoffs.
A roar rumbles in the back of my throat and I hurl my phone against the wall, wincing because the action pulls at my injured one. It lands on the floor with a loud clatter and I drop my head back against the couch cushion, huffing out a deep sigh.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, flinging a hand over my forehead. The drugs are starting to wear off and my temples pound so hard, I can barely think straight at this point.
The penthouse is quiet. Deafeningly quiet.
Not the peaceful kind of quiet, either. It’s more like the calm before the storm.
Almost on cue, bare feet pad against the tile floor behind me, getting louder as Livvie approaches the living room. I’d slept out here last night since I couldn’t get comfortable in the bed and I only sleep on my injured side.
Fucking figures.
She walks into the room and stops at the window overlooking the skyline, a glass of water in her hand.
I stare at her back, her body swallowed by one of my T-shirts.
Her shoulders are squared, forearms tense as she clutches the glass.
Her long hair tumbles down the slope of her spine in loose waves and those legs… fuck. Creamy toned thighs that I can—
Fuck.
I tear my eyes away from her, swallowing a grunt. This is why I got into trouble in the first fucking place. Because I got caught up in whatever I stupidly believed was happening between us.
“You’re up,” I say finally, because I can’t take the silence anymore. I need answers. I need her fire. I need to know I wasn’t wrong about her. About us.
I shift on the couch and curse under my breath, the motion sending pain spiraling down my side. She doesn’t turn around.
“They kicked me out of the hospital,” she says, her voice flat. “Like I was a guilty, untrustworthy criminal. A stranger. A fucking threat.”
“I didn’t ask for them to do that,” I mutter. “And by the way, I was in surgery. It wasn’t like I could do much to stop them.”
She slowly turns to look at me, the skin under her eyes slightly puffy. Her lips pull into a tight line, her fingertips white from the pressure on the glass.
“You think I had something to do with it.”
I sigh. “No.”
“You didn’t answer fast enough.”
I grit my teeth. “It’s not that simple.”
“Isn’t it?” She walks toward me slowly, deliberately. “Bronx accused me of setting up the whole thing. And then your father exiled me from the building. You’re telling me you had nothing to do with that decision?”
My fingers twitch at my side. I want to reach for her. I want to shake her. I want to fuck the fight right out of both of us.
“I was bleeding out, Livvie. I didn’t know anything until I woke up.”
She stops in front of me. Arms crossed, head tilted.
“They took me back here and put me under surveillance to make sure I didn’t make any calls.
I didn’t know if you were alive or dead.
You must have woken up at some point. You could have told someone to call me, just to let me know.
Unless you also believe I was involved.” Her eyebrow lifts and the accusation in her voice is like a dagger straight into my heart.
“I couldn’t even piss without help. Forgive me for not storming the ICU with an IV drip and a limp.”
She snorts but it’s not from amusement. It’s pain. Frustration. Confusion wrapped in her signature venomous armor.
“I kept you alive,” she says softly now. “I dragged your bleeding ass into the back of the truck and held your shoulder together with a fucking jacket and a prayer.”
“I know.”
Her chin trembles. Just for a second. “Then why don’t I feel like you trust me?”
I struggle to get off the couch, gritting my teeth with every tiny movement. Pain lances through my side and shoulder but I push through it. I don’t care.
“I was too fucked up to think clearly last night. And the surveillance was supposed to be for your protection and mine.”
“That’s bullshit,” she says. “Your family thinks I did this, that I betrayed you. Meanwhile—”
“My father put me in this position,” I say. “He kept his fucking secrets and now everything he tried to hide from me and the rest of my family is unraveling. We’re all at risk now.”
She stares at me. Eyes shimmering. Lips parted.
And then she shoves me.
“Asshole.”
I groan. It wasn’t a hard hit, but fuck. “Jesus, Livvie. Are you trying to put me back in the hospital? Because that’s gonna make me think you really are guilty.”
“You still let them treat me like dirt.”
“I’m not them.”
“You are to them. And they think I’m guilty. They’re going to try to get rid of me. It’s a betrayal, Kingston. Somebody set me up to take the fall, and you’ll never convince them otherwise.”
Using my good hand, I fist the T-shirt and draw her close. A soft hiss of breath slips from her lips. I bring my face closer to hers, our foreheads practically touching.
“Anyone who tries to hurt you will answer to me. I won’t let them near you.” But even as I speak the words, the fucking annoying voice in the back of my mind taunts me.
Am I really as pussy-whipped as my father thinks I am? So much so that I have blinders on when it comes to my sexy as fuck wife?
I breathe in Livvie’s sweet scent, dropping my lips to the back of her neck. She lets out a soft mewl, melting against my good side as I nip at the skin behind her ear. Now that I know it makes her crazy, I want to have that control over her… over her body and her pleasure.
No. She’s not that good an actress.
And those fleeting moments between us… I know I didn’t imagine them. They were fucking real. I felt something and I’d stake my life on the fact that she felt it, too. Breaking down walls, letting each other see beyond the exposed layers. That’s what is happening here.
I run a hand down the slope of her spine and dig my fingers into her ass, pushing her against me. I may have a shredded shoulder but my cock doesn’t seem to notice. Running my fingers between her thighs, I find that the thin scrap of lace covering Livvie’s pussy is soaked.
This is real. So fucking real.
I still have to figure out who put that hit on me… later.
Because right now, the only thing I want is to be balls deep inside my wife’s tight pussy.
Fuck the pain. Fuck my father. Fuck it all.
I crush my lips against hers, delving into her mouth, our tongues twisting and tangling. She kisses me back, her mouth hot and hungry.
She fists my shirt, dragging my lower lip through her teeth. I groan against her mouth and stagger backward until I hit the edge of the couch. She slides her panties off and follows me, climbing onto my lap like she’s trying to claim what’s hers.
Careful not to jerk my shoulder, she slides my sweatpants down, my cock springing to attention. She licks the palm of her hand and grips me tight, running her hand up and down my throbbing shaft.
She brings the head of my cock to her pussy and drags it over her wet slit. “You want that?” she whispers.
“Fuck yes.” I hold her hip, guiding her over me.
She sinks down onto my cock and throws her head back with a loud moan, her pussy clenching tight around me.
I thrust into her, long, hard, and deep, my fingers grasping the globe of her ass as all the blood rushes to the top of my cock.
She squeezes and tugs me further and further until I don’t know where I end and she begins.
Livvie dips her head low and kisses me again. This time it’s raw, needy, and desperate. She’s shaking, I’m sweating, and everything we haven’t said is clawing its way to the surface.
“Do you think I’m the enemy?” she murmurs against my lips, her pussy blanketing me in heat and drowning me in desire.
“No,” I choke out, jerking my hips harder to hit her spot. I slide my hand under her shirt, grazing the skin at her waist.
She pulls back just enough to meet my gaze. Her eyes are wild. Wounded. Wanting.
“Make me believe it,” she rasps, moving faster, trembling against me. “Make me feel it.”
I drive her hard. She cries out, clawing at the front of my T-shirt as she bobs on my cock. Her pussy walls clamp down on me, a rush of juices flowing over me as the orgasm consumes and commands her.
“Come with me, Kingston,” she whispers. “Give me everything.”
White light flashes behind my eyes, a slow rumbling in my core giving way to a massive explosion that ignites every cell. My blood burns for this woman, my body erupting into flames that blast through my extremities like a raging inferno.
This isn’t just sex. It isn’t just frenzied bodies colliding. It’s damaged hearts. Gaping wounds. Dark secrets. Fractured promises and rebuilding of trust.
But even as I hold Livvie close, her breaths soft pants against my chest, I know that some fractures can never fully heal once secrets are exposed. And trust is a fickle bitch.