Chapter 39 – Nico
“Here you go.” I tossed the clothing on the bed. “I washed them after the other night.”
Rae looked at the holey jeans and graphic band tee. Or at least that was what I thought she was looking at. When her finger looped the delicate lace of the panties and her glare turned on me, I saw the reason for her hesitation.
“You can sleep with whoever the hell you want, but I’ll be damned before I wear her intimates!” Rae’s eyes glittered. The amber flecks were living fire.
I stepped into her, grabbing her jew and forcing her head back. “I’m only sleeping with you, you jealous little hellcat. There’s no one else for me. Get that through your head.”
Rae lifted the panties higher. “These aren’t mine. Nor was the other pair you left out that morning.”
I plucked them and shoved them between her lips. “If I had time, I’d bend you over and fuck you hard for this nonsense. They’re brand new, Rae. Freshly laundered and never worn.”
I slid my hand to her shoulder, wielded her around, and marched her to the closet. The light flicked on, and I pulled out a drawer in the built-in system. “See. All new. All yours.”
She spit the panties out. “You got me a drawer.”
“Mhmm.” I ran my knuckles over her smooth skin. “It was fun shopping for you. There should be clothes in here too, but I haven’t had a free hour to spare this week or last.”
“No one’s ever shopped for me,” she said quietly, brushing her finger over the neatly folded intimates. She picked up a strapless nude bra and held it up.
“And no one else will,” I promised. “I washed everything and put it away here, but if you’d rather arrange them differently—”
“You washed them for me?” Rae spun around. “You? Did laundry?”
The smile on her lips was beautiful. I leaned down for a quick taste.
“What? Like it’s hard or something?” I teased, nipping at her bottom lip.
“Lord almighty, aren’t you just full of surprises.” She grinned.
I had to tear myself away. Maybe it was the accent, or maybe it was just the too-cute woman standing naked in my space, but the rock-hard tent in my pants strained to the point of pain. Another two minutes this close to her, and I was going to throw her on the bed.
“I’ll be in the kitchen, prepping lunch.” I stole one more kiss. “Come out when you’re ready.”
Rae nodded, and I made my escape.
Her mistrust bothered me. It made sense, given the story she’d told me in the bathtub.
Men had come and gone from her life. If that was the standard she measured relationships by, it would take time to teach her that we were different.
I was determined to prove to her that this was it for me.
I wasn’t leaving. I wouldn’t let her quit on us.
It was as simple as that.
By the time the strips of steak were sizzling in the pan, Rae joined me. I did a double take, wondering where she’d found a dress.
The smirk on her lips told me she was enjoying this far too much.
“You like?” She did a twirl.
It was the buttons that gave it away. I prowled toward her. Those bewitching eyes flashed with a shiver of fear. My pulse spiked.
“I fucking love you in my shirts,” I growled, planting my hands on her waist.
Rae had twisted the sleeves and tied them to turn the black button-up into a strapless dress. Coupled with the new pair of tights, she was pretty enough to eat.
“Sorry it took so long,” she breathed. “I couldn’t make your belt small enough to wrap around my tummy.”
I brushed my hands down her hips. “You’re killing me, woman.”
Her smile widened. “Good.”
Not good. I was starving, but not for the food cooking on the stove. There wasn’t time to feast.
But teasing…well, that I could manage.
I pulled Rae into the kitchen. “Want to help me?”
“Sure.” She surveyed the items on the counter. “I can make the margaritas, since I assume that’s what’s going in the pitcher.”
“Thanks, babe.” I released her, dumped the onions and peppers into the browned meat, then lowered the temperature on the stove.
Rae sliced the limes. I waited until she set the knife down before I pounced. Capturing her waist, I slid my hand under the makeshift skirt.
“Nico,” she moaned. “What are you doing?”
I rubbed my finger over the spider web material of her tights, pressing the seam against her clit. “Keep working.”
Rae huffed a laugh. “Sure thing, boss.”
Her fingers trembled as she attempted to squeeze the limes. I continued to stroke her, keeping her body pinned tight against me.
“This pretty pussy is wet,” I breathed against her ear.
“Mhmm,” she answered.
I spread my fingers. The audible tear made her jerk.
“Did you just rip my new tights!”
Sliding past her panties, I pinched her clit. “They were in my way.”
Rae hissed. “Nico.”
“Yes, cherry-bomb?”
Her hips rocked into me. Her breath quickened.
I slipped a finger into her silky heat, groaning as her muscles clenched it tight. Madonna santa, she was already close. I pumped my finger in and out, then slid a second deep inside.
Rae whimpered.
I continued to stroke her clit as my teeth sank into the pulse on her throat. I sucked. Hard. Liquid warmth flooded my hand. Her head tipped back and an unholy moan escaped her lips.
“Nico!”
“Come for me,” I demanded, laving my tongue over her pulse.
She slammed her hands on the counter. “Are we preparing for your guests or are we—”
While she’d exploded, I pulled my fingers from her sex and pushed them into her mouth. Grabbing a lime, I replaced the taste of her with the citrus.
Rae swallowed. “That’s a whole new twist to tequila shots.”
I chuckled. “I’ll let you finish.”
Checking the rice, which was almost done in the pot on the back burner, I tossed a stack of tortillas, both soft and hard shells, onto the baking sheet in the warm oven. Rae moved to the fridge and poked around.
“Looking for something?” I turned and caught a peek at her ass. My dick pulsed greedily. I liked her in my kitchen, and not just because she was fucking hot. She belonged here. Cooking had never been more enjoyable.
“Nah, I’m good.” Rae shut the fridge.
I frowned at the orange bottle and bag of veggies she took the island.
But hell if I was going to interrupt. She seemed at peace here.
She wasn’t hiding who or what she was, from her heavily pierced ears to the bare feet, toes painted a sultry black.
But it was more than that. The trauma of early had melted away, for which I was immensely grateful.
She was undeniably the strongest woman I’d ever met.
The world wasn’t going to hold her down.
Magnolia Rae was the kind of woman who bounced back swinging—laughing in the face of hell and making cocktails in celebration.
She measured the carrot juice, dumped it in the pitcher, and then added the rest of the margarita ingredients.
“Do you have cayenne pepper?” Rae asked, pulling the long-stemmed carrots from the bag.
“I do.” I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as she washed then peeled the edges of the carrots. The strips she tossed in the pitcher, the veggies she plopped in the four tumbler glasses on the counter.
“Can I have it?” Rae turned around to face me. “Please.”
I nodded. “Sure.”
But I didn’t move.
Rae let out an exasperated huff, crossed the distance, and placed her palm over my erection. She squeezed once and then began to rub.
“Please, Nico,” she breathed.
Anything—anything for this woman. “You’re killing me.”
She raised her palms and gave me a mischievous smirk. “Can’t have that.”
Put it back. “I’ll get you the cayenne. Anything else?”
Rae scrunched up her lips. “You’re Italian.”
“Thanks for noticing.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you have grappa?”
“You’re putting grappa in the margaritas?” I went to the cupboards, pulled out both the spice and the liquor, and handed them to her. “Is this a science experiment or have you made it before?”
“We had it for Easter, actually.” She took the ingredients. “The carrot juice sweetens it, but it also makes the tequila more earthy. You’ll like it.”
I already knew I would. She made it.
But there was something else my brain fixated on. “Who’s we?”
“Oh,” she laughed. “Just me and some friends. There was a group of us miscreants back in Cobbsville.”
Cobbsville, Georgia…. I suddenly wanted to go there. To see her hometown, to see Rae in her element. She had a whole life there. A history. Did it call to her? Did she ever think of going back?
I asked her before I could stop myself.
Rae sighed and began to stir the cocktail. “No, that life is over.”
“Is it?” I was a glutton for punishment.
Rae plunked ice in the tumbler, poured some of the margarita into the glass, and brought it to me. “I’ve started over, Nico.”
Thank fuck. That meant I had a chance to keep her here. To prove to her this was where she belonged—with me.
Rae lifted the glass to my lips, and I took a sip.
The spicy flavor invaded my senses. I swallowed, pleasantly surprised how the sweet melded with the heat.
“That’s delicious,” I breathed.
Rae’s smile set my heart galloping. I reached for her, pulling her flush with my body. “More.”
She tipped the glass up. This time, I didn’t swallow. I bent over her, pressing my lips to hers. There was a moment of hesitation, but when she opened, I gave her the cocktail straight from my mouth.
Her sharp inhale was a delicious note to the primal exchange. The moment she swallowed, I lifted her in my arms, ready to haul her to the bedroom.
The door opened. Two voices called out in greeting.
Cavolo. They were early.
Rae gasped and wriggled. I held her tight, turning to greet our guests. My fingers squeezed her hip in a possessive promise to continue this later.
“Rae, I want you to meet my mother and sister, Donatella and Tiziana Grimaldi,” I said, enjoying the way my girl’s cheeks went beet red.
My mother’s eyes twinkled, while my sister flat out laughed.
“It’s a pleasure, my dear,” Donatella said, walking over.
Tiziana shut the door before following.
“Put me down,” Rae hissed under her breath.
I bounced her and held tight. My relatives shook hands with Rae before scooting around the island to perch on stools.
“Want a drink?” I offered.