Chapter 8
KARINA
“What’s gotten into you?”
Marco catches up to me on my way to our bedroom and loops his arm through mine.
“What do you mean?”
My gait is a bit unsteady and I admittedly have to hold firmly to his arm in order to navigate my steps. I almost stumble when we turn a corner, but he steadies me.
“All the alcohol you poured down your throat tonight. That’s what I mean.”
We get to our room and I beeline for the bed and lay on the edge with my arms stretched out at my sides.
Ah, finally the room can stop spinning. Marco starts unbuttoning his shirt and rolls his neck to stretch.
My gaze clings to him as he tosses his shirt into the hamper and runs a hand through his hair.
My husband is a pretty, pretty man. A slow churn of desire swirls though me and my skin heats as I study him.
“Are you trying to tell me how much I can drink now?” I slur.
Turning onto my side to flash him a come-hither stare, I nearly fall off the bed but catch myself and scoot back.
The wine is still giving me that pleasant, “everything is fine” sensation.
But a tiny throb pulses at my temples, and I know it won’t be long until the feel-good effects begin to fade.
Running my eyes over Marco’s luscious body, I figure it might be a good time to trade one pleasure for another.
His lips press into a flat line and he narrows his eyes at me. For a moment, I wonder if I’ve done something wrong. But then he walks over and sits down next to me on the bed.
“I don’t want you using alcohol to deal with whatever might be going on with you.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m fine.”
But it’s a lie, and we both know it.
I’ve been trying so hard to keep away from everyone, to make sure my uncle’s eavesdropping is fruitless.
The problem is, there’s no good way for me to avoid the family permanently, and I’m sure they’ve all noticed my strange behavior.
I can’t keep this up forever. But I don’t want to think about that right now.
Maneuvering myself over toward his lap, I rest my head on his thighs.
Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I stare up at him as I reach for the button of his jeans and begin to work it free.
Marco’s expression turns serious and heated.
He pulls a slow breath in through his nose, his body perfectly still.
The button pops free, and I tug at the zipper, but I’m interrupted when he gently takes my wrist and stops me in my tracks.
“Please, stop. I can’t—I don’t have sex with drunk women.”
“I’m your wife,” I point out, trailing my fingers over his fly. “It’s different.”
Shaking his head, Marco gingerly moves me off of him and helps me sit up. Then he gets up and rearranges me against the pillows, pulling my hair back from my face and brushing the back of his hand against my cheek.
“It’s not different to me. I’m going to get you some water. You need to relax.”
I watch as he goes to the bathroom and fills a glass, taking it from him with a pout.
“Are you seriously rejecting me right now?” I ask.
“Drink.”
“Fine.”
As I gulp the cool water down, I don’t take my eyes off him, letting my hungry gaze rake over his naked chest.
“How about now?” I ask, handing the empty glass back to him.
Marco sighs, but I can see he’s suppressing a grin. “First you gotta sober up properly. And I need to go talk to my brothers. I’ll be back as soon as I can. There’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”
That has me feeling a lot more sober all of a sudden. Does he know about the transmitter in my ring? Or does Armani suspect? Shit.
After Marco puts on a clean T-shirt and leaves, I do everything I can to get the alcohol out of my system.
I drink more water, have a tray of coffee and saltines brought to me by a member of the kitchen staff, and then take a shower.
When I step out of the bathroom in my robe, Marco is waiting for me on the bed, playing some kind of game on his phone.
“Hey,” he says, slipping his phone into the nightstand drawer. “You look a bit better.”
“I’m feeling a little better, too,” I say, trying not to panic as I drop onto the bed next to him. “So…what did you want to talk to me about?”
Marco turns on his side to face me. He looks a little anxious.
“Okay. So the thing is, I saw how you reacted to the baby kicking earlier. You seemed excited, but also maybe…I don’t know.” He shakes his head, looking away for a moment. “A little upset. Are you jealous? Not of Frankie, per se, but the fact that she’ll be a mom soon?”
Wow. This is not at all what I was expecting.
I take a moment to think it over, though.
I can’t deny that I was upset at dinner, but it wasn’t about the baby.
It was about Dante and Armani trying to talk business and revenge, and me freaking out that my uncle would hear something he could use against the Bellantis.
Hence my odd behavior trying to muffle the conversation.
And my enthusiastic drinking. But I can’t tell Marco that.
“No, not at all,” I finally say. “I mean, obviously I’m happy for her and Dante—really happy.
And I’m very excited for the baby to come.
And yeah, it was amazing feeling those little kicks.
But I’m not jealous, or feeling like…like you and I need to be in a rush to have a kid or something.
We haven’t really talked about that at all yet. ”
He shrugs. “We are now. Do you want to have kids? Have you thought about it?”
“I—I don’t know,” I say honestly. I hate knowing that my uncle is listening in on this very private conversation, but I’m glad to be having it with Marco all the same. “I guess I haven’t given it much consideration, but I think…that I do. At some point. Do you?”
Truthfully, I never really imagined him as the fatherly type. Now that we’re talking about it, I realize I kind of enjoy the idea of it. Maybe not right away, necessarily, but…
“I—” He stops and runs a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh.
He seems to be thinking very carefully about what to say next.
“Look, I know that I was pretty wild before I met you. And my reputation isn’t exactly great, thanks to all my running around.
If you’ve heard any stories about me…they’re probably true, as bad as that might sound.
I liked to party, I enjoyed more than my fair share of women, I did a lot of things that I’m a little embarrassed about after the fact.
I was always the baby of the family, you know?
So I guess I never gave much thought to responsibility.
My brothers were always so well-behaved. I thought it was my job to rebel.”
I smile. “I get it. Or at least, I think I can understand.”
“But that’s not who I am anymore,” he says. “The second I met you, I just knew, immediately, that my life was about to change.”
“How romantic,” I say lightly, but my heart warms in my chest all the same.
Marco looks at me with a smirk. “I always said that no woman would ever be able to tame me, but there’s something about you, Karina. You make me want to be a better person.” He takes my hand and looks into my eyes, and my heart starts to pound. “I’d like to have a family someday—with you.”
His sincerity is sobering me up even faster than the caffeine and the shower did. I have to admit that I’m a little shell-shocked.
“But what about racing? That’s your whole life. And it’s a big commitment. Time and headspace, and just…all of it,” I say softly.
“I still plan to make one hell of a name for myself, but that doesn’t have to come at the cost of having a family.
Dante has epic plans for the winery, things that are going to take years and years of work, but it doesn’t make him any less devoted to his family.
He and Frankie will make it work. I think you and I can, too. ”
“I don’t know what to say.”
After everything that’s happened, it’s difficult for me to envision what the future looks like for Marco and me.
I want to be with him always, of course, but the girlish fantasies and daydreams I used to have about our relationship are long gone.
This isn’t an Austen novel and there won’t be any grand gesture to tie up our life with a neat, tidy little bow.
Our marriage has been an out-of-control amusement park ride, and as long as the Brunos seeks to torment the Bellantis, I can never truly relax.
“What do you want, Karina? In life. Big picture.”
Honestly, I stopped thinking about that a while ago.
After a moment, I admit, “I don’t know anymore.
I used to think I wanted to do the college thing, get an English degree.
Maybe do some creative writing, try to write a book?
Maybe teach, eventually? But my uncle always said a degree would be useless for me, and we all knew I’d be married off young anyway.
That’s why I never pursued much beyond the handful of community college classes I took.
” I pick at the edge of the sheet. “I’ve kind of forgotten what I want for myself, honestly. ”
Suddenly remembering the ring, I shove it under the blanket and remind myself to be careful of what I say next.
“And then…so much has happened since we got married that it’s been easy to lose sight of what I might want in terms of life goals. I guess I have to start from scratch now.”
Marco’s face turns pensive. “I don’t want you to give up on your life, Karina.
If you want to go back to college, then I want that for you, too.
Write all the damn books you want. Teach.
Or go for something completely different.
Anything you want to do, I’ll support you.
Emotionally, financially, logistically. All of it. ”
“Really?”
He smiles. “Really. So think it over. Sky’s the limit.”
I reach for him and pull him in for a kiss. His lips are warm and still taste of wine.
“Thank you,” I whisper against his mouth. “It’s good to have dreams, isn’t it?”
“More like goals. My dream isn’t to be an awesome driver and make Bellanti Racing a household name and crush your ex-fiancé on the racetrack in the process. Those are my goals.”
I laugh. “I love it. I wish I had something like that, too. Something constantly pulling me forward, forcing me to push myself. It seems so easy for you. Not the racing itself, just—I don’t know.
You know exactly what you want, so you’re pursuing it with everything you have, full stop.
It must be nice having it all figured out. ”
“I do not have it all figured out,” he protests.
“Just some of it. And yeah, not gonna lie, it’s a good feeling.
But Karina, you’re not even twenty-one yet.
You’ve got all the time in the world to figure out what you want in life.
You just have to take a leap of faith. Or a lot of leaps, I guess.
That’s the only way you’ll find what you really love.
” He gets serious all of a sudden, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss.
“And when you know, you know. There’s no question.
No room for doubt. Just like when I met you. ”
My cheeks go warm, and I nod. “I just…keep thinking back to that picnic date you took me on in the vineyard. It was the first time we really talked.”
“I remember,” he says.
“You were going on about all your racing stuff, and how it feels when you’re driving. The freedom, and the flying, and the magic. I want that, too. I want to fly.”
“You will. I promise.”
Marco rolls me onto my back and kisses me softly, slowly fanning the fire until my body is hot with need.
“Hey. I’m not drunk anymore,” I whisper.
“Good.”
My robe is off in about two seconds flat, and then I return the favor, undressing Marco piece by piece until we’re gloriously skin on skin, his delicious weight pressing me into the mattress.
I love the feel of his muscled back and tight ass beneath my greedy hands as I run my fingers over his supple skin.
His cock is rock hard in an instant, twitching against my inner thigh as I stroke his shoulders, his biceps, his pecs. I want to devour him.
Don’t get me wrong—I love when we make love. All the touching and kissing and closeness. But right now, I just want him inside me. I don’t need the foreplay. Just Marco’s cock slamming into me, hard and deep and steady, making me forget everything but this moment.
Spreading my legs, I lift my hips and urge him in.
Marco kisses my neck as he works into me, one glorious inch at a time.
A liquid moan spills out of me as he rams that cock home, right where I want him to be.
Sliding a hand down between us, I spread my lips wider and hold myself open, just so I can feel his hot shaft thrusting between my fingers as he fucks me.
My clit rubs against the palm of my hand as he starts pounding into me even faster.
He looks down at me, his eyes hazy with lust. “I love it when you touch yourself.”
“I love it when you watch.”
In this moment, I don’t even care that we’re being spied on. If my uncle’s men think they need to listen in on all my most intimate interactions, they can go right on ahead. Fuck them.
My words seem to break something free in Marco.
His body tenses up, his strokes growing faster, even more punishing.
I love every second of it. He’s nodding as I let out little shrieks, so focused on making sure I’m getting the ultimate pleasure.
A grin of satisfaction pulls his lips when I arch my back with the crest of an orgasm and start crying out his name.
“Yes, Marco, yes. Marco, Marco, Marco. So good.”
Pulling out in a rush, he shifts me onto my hands and knees facing the headboard, my ass high in the air.
Gripping my hips, he thrusts in again from behind, grunting in short bursts as his cock drills into me with renewed speed.
I come again, too fast, helpless to slow myself down, clamping hard around him as I muffle my moans in a pillow.
His fingers squeeze tighter around my hips as he pumps even faster, reminding me who I belong to. Who I’ll always belong to.
“That’s my girl,” he says. “Fuck yes. You’re mine, all mine.”
He groans my name as he comes, and I can feel him pulsing inside me. There’s power in this, in knowing how good I get him off.
With one last shudder, he slides out of me and collapses onto the bed, pulling me into his arms. As I nestle against him, both of us still breathing hard, I realize that what I want is simple. I want to have a peaceful, stable life with my husband. No mob, no murder, no threats.
And I’m starting to feel like I’ll do anything to get it.