33. The Best Thank You
CHAPTER 33
THE BEST THANK YOU
M arco
“I don’t give a fuck, Jimmy!” I roar over the phone. “It’s been seven days and the bastard who tried to murder my wife is still out there. How could you have no leads?”
“I already told you that all the cameras at the Waldorf were wiped clean. With the number of crime syndicates invited to the wedding, there are a shit load of suspects. Not to mention the fact that it could have been someone who snuck in.”
“Then question the guards on duty again. I want them all interrogated until the fuckers spill. Someone has to know what happened that day, and no one better fucking sleep until you find that person.”
“Got it, boss.”
I jab my finger at the call end button, fury rushing my veins. I’ve never felt so powerless and, Dio , I hate it. If there was one thing about this damned marriage I thought I would be decent at, it was protecting my damned wife .
Now I feel like a fucking coglione .
That seething anger bubbles up, tangling with weeks of pent-up energy and sexual frustration. I stalk out of my home-office ready to rip something, anything apart. When I reach the kitchen, darkness blankets the city, the twinkling lights of the skyline streaming into the great room.
Cazzo , what time is it? How long have I been holed up in my office?
Jia’s familiar form materializes on the couch, and I halt my mad stomping. Her eyes are closed and she’s curled up beneath a blanket. Yéye is nowhere in sight, but since it’s well past midnight, he’s likely already gone to bed.
The fury ravaging my entire being wanes as I step closer, and my eyes land on the simple platinum wedding band around Jia’s finger. My thoughts fly to the engagement ring I never returned. The red box still sits unopened, hidden in my underwear drawer.
With all the chaos of this week, I haven’t had time to bring it back to Cartier. Maybe I shouldn’t… I fold down onto the couch beside her and brush a strand of raven hair behind her ear. My little spitfire has been playing nice this week, but it’s only because she’s injured.
Now that things would return to normal what would happen?
Would she still insist on an open marriage? Would she at least allow me to fuck her first?
I’ve dreamed of sinking my cock into that sweet pussy since the moment I first laid eyes on her. Just the thought of it has my dick hardening.
Shaking my head, I heave in a breath. Cold shower and bed. That’s what lies in my future. But first, I have to get my wife upstairs. Gently lifting her off the couch, I cradle her in my arms. A faint sigh purses her lips, and she leans her head against my chest.
My heart kicks at my ribs. Dio , this woman has my heart and balls in a chokehold.
Nico’s words at the hospital a week ago flit to the surface of my mind: Love sucks, huh, fratello?
As I carry Jia up the stairs, I consider the last few months since this woman bulldozed into my life, and a smile threatens. After Isa, I vowed never to love again. I would never allow myself to be that vulnerable. Her death nearly destroyed me.
When I reach the loft, I tiptoe the final steps to the massive bed. The bed I haven’t slept in once since I moved into this damned apartment. Gently lowering Jia onto the silky sheets, I hold my breath so as not to wake her. Despite the pain pills, she hasn’t been sleeping well. She tosses and turns at night, sometimes crying out.
It kills me to see the fierce woman plagued by nightmares.
I’m all too familiar with the feeling.
Briefly contemplating removing the sheer-sleeved sundress she wears, I reconsider, knowing how pissed she’d be at me having undressed her in her sleep. Instead, I pull the comforter up and tuck it around her sleeping form. Her chest rises and falls slowly, the slight movement entrancing. I spent the past week in the hospital watching her sleep like a psycho. She’s not the only one who needs rest.
Before I consider the ramifications, I lean closer and brush a kiss to her forehead. Another faint sigh tumbles free, and my stupid heart pinches. This damned, fiery woman will be the death of me, I’m sure of it.
Forcing my gaze away from her peacefully sleeping form, I slowly back away and disappear into the closet. Stripping my clothes off, exhaustion sets in, bone deep. Fuck the shower. It can wait until tomorrow. I’ve suffered through blue balls for months; another night isn’t going to make a difference.
Once I’m down to only boxers, I saunter back into the bedroom and head for the bed. I’m too tired to go back downstairs to the guest room, and this is my damned bedroom after all. I gingerly crawl onto my side of the mattress and the moment my head hits the pillow, my lids begin to close.
Until the feel of a warm body snaps them wide open.
Jia curls into my side, eyes still firmly closed. Her arm winds around my waist, and she mumbles something in her sleep I can’t quite make out. Her warmth seeps into me, flooding my veins.
Fantastic, now I’m hard again.
Sunlight streams in through the gap in the curtains, directed straight at my eyes. I groan and attempt to roll over, but Jia is still curled into my side. So much for a good night’s rest. I’d barely slept, scared to move and jostle her wound. And still, her mere presence insured I awoke with a raging boner.
Now I’m tired and horny as fuck.
On the bright side, at least Jia seems to have slept peacefully.
A dull throb pounds across my shoulder from remaining in the same position all night. Who knew Jia’s head was so heavy? Okay, I have to move… Carefully, I slide her head farther down to my chest, freeing my arm.
Not ideal, but better at least.
The ties of her sundress have fallen off her shoulders, revealing the swell of her breasts, and my cock twitches at the sight. Fuck, it’s about time for that cold shower. As I contemplate the best way to extricate myself without waking her, she begins to stir. Her arm glides down my bare torso and her slender fingers graze my hard-ass cock.
For the love of all things… I grit my teeth as her lids begin to flutter.
Jia lets out a yawn, her fingers still dangerously close to my raging erection. She finally glances up at me, and her eyes widen in surprise .
“Morning, spitfire,” I rasp out.
“M—morning…” She glances around the bedroom, but she doesn’t move. “How did I get here? Those pain pills must have been stronger than I thought.” She drags a hand through her tangle of dark locks. Shockingly, she doesn’t yell at me for crawling into bed with her either.
“You fell asleep on the couch, so I carried you up last night.”
“Oh.” As if she finally notices the precarious location of her hand, she pulls her arm back and rolls onto her back so her body is no longer pressed against mine. But her eyes roam to my visible arousal and remain there for an endless moment.
I wait for her squeal of disapproval, but it never comes. Instead, she just lays there, staring at it. “It’s time for that cold shower,” I finally mutter when the silence lingers on dangerously between us.
“Wait…” Her hand falls onto my bare chest again. “I’ve been meaning to thank you. You’ve been surprisingly decent since… everything.”
I nod slowly. “It’s the least I could do.”
“No, it’s not.” She sucks her lower lip between her teeth. “Given the arrangement, there was nothing keeping you at my bedside while I recovered. You’re free to do as you will. But you didn’t…”
“Nope.” I tick my head at my cock. “As you can clearly see, I’m a little hard up.”
A rueful chuckle slides past her pinched lips. The faint line between her brow furrows as if she’s contemplating something big. She sucks in a breath and blurts, “I’d like to help you with that.”
I’m sure I’ve heard wrong, but judging by the deep blush on her cheeks, maybe I didn’t. My eyes bug out. “What?”
She doesn’t say a word as her hand wraps around my cock over my boxers .
“Oh, fuck,” I groan. “Jia?—”
“Let’s not look too much into this,” she murmurs, those darting eyes meeting mine. “It’s a thank you and that’s all.”
“Well, cazzo , this is the best damned thank you I’ve ever gotten in my life.”
Her hand strokes my cock over the linen, and my balls tighten, but it’s not enough. I want to feel her skin against mine.
“If you’re going to do it…” My hand closes around hers and tugs it beneath the waistband of my boxers. “Do it right, wifey.”
She shoots me a glare, and her hand slows its glorious strokes. “Don’t call me that.”
“Okay, okay, just don’t stop.” I jerk the boxers down my thighs and lean back against the pillow to watch as her hand glides up and down my thick head. Beads of cum already glisten along the tip, and I’m sure this will be embarrassingly quick. Somehow, my cock knows the difference between my rough hand and the gentle touch of a woman’s. And especially this woman’s.
Cum slickens my shaft, and her hand glides more smoothly, back and forth, and heat surges through my veins. Her free hand slides down to my balls, and a groan tears free. “Mmm, Jia, your hands are amazing.”
The hint of a smile curls her lip. “Don’t get used to it. This is a one-time concession, an award for good behavior.”
“If you do this on the regular, I’ll be a really good boy. I can sit, come, shake… whatever you want, spitfire.”
Her head falls back as a laugh spills out, and Dio , it’s the most beautiful sound.
“I’m embarrassingly close,” I pant and hand her my discarded boxers.
“What am I supposed to do with these?” She throws them back at me. “You hold them. ”
Fair enough.
She doubles her efforts, and liquid lightning surges from my spine and runs down to the tips of my toes. Squeezing my eyes closed, I reach for her blindly and my hand closes around her breast. She gasps, but her hands don’t stop. In fact, they move faster.
I toy with her nipple, and she releases a satisfying moan which only gets me more worked up. “Mmm, spitfire, I cannot wait to coax more of those sexy sounds out of you once you’re healed.”
“Good luck,” she whispers and with one final, expert stroke, the orgasm slams into me.
All the air squeezes from my lungs as my balls tighten and ropes of warm cum shoot out. I barely have the wherewithal to reach for my boxers before I get sprayed with my own damned giz.
Once the frenzy subsides, my head falls back against the pillow, and a satisfied smile melts across my face.
Jia kneels triumphantly beside me, one breast nearly exposed.
“Well done.”
“I know.” She smirks and shimmies to the end of the bed.
My hand juts out, fingers wrapping around her arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She pauses about halfway across the mattress and cocks her head over her shoulder. “I have a busy day ahead. I’ve abandoned my boutique for long enough, and I’ll have to show my face at the Four Seas headquarters eventually. It’s time they realize their new lǎodà is back.”
“Jia… that doesn’t sound like resting to me.” I inch closer. “You heard what the doctor said, you have to rest.” Carefully, I tug her back and force her down onto the mattress.
“Marco—”
“No squirming. We can’t have you busting those stitches.” I move down her body as she stares up at me, back against the mattress, dark eyes pulsing.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s my turn to thank you for thanking me.” A devious grin pulls at my lips as I spread her legs and kneel between them.