Chapter Forty-One-Nico
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE-NICO
I glance at Anna in the back seat with me. She’s wearing one of the spare button downs I keep in my office.
I have extra slacks in my office, but she looked at me like I was out of my fucking mind when I offered, and I didn’t push her.
I’m a big guy and the shirt is long enough on her that she’s decent. She looks good in my clothes.
Sexy and rumpled.
Like she’s just been well-fucked, which she has.
She smells like me, too. Like my soap. And I like it.
I fucking like it a lot.
We took a fast shower, rinsing off the mess we made and whereas I could put back on my pants and slide into another shirt, her dress and panties were hopelessly ruined.
But she’s being quiet now.
Too quiet.
I have to talk to her. I want to know what she’s thinking, but I won’t ask her. Not where Tommy can hear us.
Sure, my driver is discreet. He has to be to keep his fucking job.
But this is personal.
So, I wait until we’re in the elevator. My nerves are stretched taut, like Odysseus’ bow strings.
I feel tight. So fucking tight. And ready to bust a vein.
“You lied.”
“I never lied to you, Anna,” I say, and I’m fucking hurt.
“You did. You said you went away on business. You said you loved me, but you were with her. Making plans to be with her,” she says, and it breaks my heart.
“That's not what that was,” I tell her.
“I heard you. You said she was why you went to Boston. And how you’re gonna keep her safe. So what’s that mean? She’s under your protection now.”
“Anna, you don’t understand. ”
“You’re right,” she snaps, anger flashing in her whiskey eyes, and fuck it soothes my heart to see her like that.
Sure, it’s fucked up. But I would rather have a spitting mad wife than one who doesn’t care.
“I heard you say you’re mine . But if she’s yours, what does that make me?” Anna asks, her voice cracks on a sob and I reach for her.
But she pulls back, and this time I flinch. Anna is right. I did say that. But it’s not what she thinks.
I’m a second away from telling her, but the elevator doors open, and I refuse to put on a show for the goddamn staff.
My face is hard, showing no emotion. And I barely react when the guard greets us.
I put my hand on Anna’s back, biting my inner cheek to stop from reacting to the way she tenses, and I open the door, herding my wife inside.
She goes straight to the nursery, and I let her.
Anna is a terrific mother. I know she loves our son, and she won’t do anything stupid like try to take him, so I wait for her in our bedroom.
When forty minutes pass and she doesn’t show, I seek her out and find her sleeping in the rocking chair in the nursery .
Mrs. Pirillo, who is acting as a nanny of sorts, is on the small day bed we have inside the nursery, and I see disapproval in her eyes before she averts her gaze.
I know she is just doing her job, and I kind of like the fact she’s protective of my Anna. But no one has to protect my wife from me.
I am her protection. I am her shield against all the bad things in the world.
But I am also the one who keeps hurting her. And I have to stop. I need to do better.
The line I am trying so hard to keep between my wife and my business, it’s not working. It’s causing her pain. And I won’t have that.
I take a peek at my son, kissing my fingers and pressing them to his sweet, soft head. Then I turn to my wife, and I inhale.
I pick her up in my arms and she stirs a little. But she doesn’t wake up until I place her on our bedspread. The one she made with her own hands.
Then she sits up.
“What are you doing?”
“Bringing you to bed.”
“I don’t want sleep here,” she says, standing up.
She’s pissed. And if I thought what she is thinking, I’d be pissed too. But she’s still wearing my shirt and smelling like my soap, and the temptation is too damn great to pass up.
I grab either side of the collar and I rip it open, revealing her soft, naked skin to my hungry gaze.
“Goddamn. You’re so beautiful.”
“Nico,” her breath hitches, and she struggles, but I have the fabric pulled down to her elbows and she can’t do anything but follow my lead when I pull her tight to my body.
I’m only wearing shorts, and everywhere she touches I ache.
“You’re my wife, Anna. You sleep in my bed every night. Remember?”
It’s a low blow, reminding her of the rules I set when we first got married. Before I ever told her I love her.
“I don’t want to.”
“Anna, what you heard, it’s not what you think,” I try to explain, but the feel of her against me has my mind all foggy.
“Sure, it’s not.”
“I swear, it’s not.”
“How do I know you're not lying?”
“Rosebud, I love you. ”
I think that will reassure her, but it doesn’t. My wife shivers, her whole body trembles against me and the taste of her salty tears is on my tongue before I realize I’m kissing her face, trying to stem their flow.
“You told me you weren't merciful, but I didn’t believe you. Is this what you meant?”
“What?” I have no idea what she means.
“Saying you love me and then going to another woman?—”
“I didn’t go to another woman. Anna, look at me.”
I tug the shirt all the way off her, and I am shaking now, too, as I sit on the bed and drag her nude body onto my lap.
And I am shaking with anger.
“I don’t have mercy in me because no one has ever shown me any. But understand this, what I am about to tell you is more than I have ever told anyone.”
I take a deep breath and slide my hand to the back of her neck, forcing her eyes to stay on me, even though she made no move to look away.
And then I tell her.
I tell her everything.
Every. Single. Fucking. Thing .
I tell her every bad fucking thing I did in my whole life. I’m leaning back against the headboard, and she’s watching me, listening, unmoving.
And I confess it all. I lay it out for her. I tell her the real monster she’s married to.
I tell her how I knew her brother was a loser. How I knew he couldn’t pay me back, but how I used him to manipulate her into my bed.
How I kept her there because I am selfish and greedy.
I tell her that what she overheard was me making a business deal with the person who is going to take over the O’Doyle family business. I tell her about Sanchez, and how we’re still looking for him. And I tell her how I control the docks.
Every drug dealer, gunrunner, and anyone involved in illegal imports has to come through me. That’s how I started making money, by using my muscle to control the waterfront from Newark to Jersey City.
I tell her about my legitimate business, and how there is very little difference between being a real estate mogul and a crime lord.
The good news is I can control what goes on in my territory. That means no fucking trafficking of any kind. And absolutely no crimes against children .
I explain that if I ever told her a lie, it was to keep her from knowing about the darkness inside me.
I tell her I’ve hurt people. That I’ve killed men. And that I would do it again.
I don’t want to scare her. I need her to be with me. But she obviously needs to know all of me to do that.
I’ve never been a do it halfway kind of guy. With me, it’s all or nothing.
So right there, in the dim lighting of our bedroom, which is so different from how it looked just a couple of months ago, thanks to my talented wife, I have the one conversation I never thought I would ever have.
But in order to have her complete submission I have to give her this. So afraid or not, I take the leap. I allow someone to see the real me for the first time in my fucked up life.
“That’s the only act of mercy I ever made, Anna. Now, I’m asking you. Can you forgive me? Can you be with me, knowing all this?”
I finish talking, and I wait for her decision.
She’s so close I can count the gold flecks in her whiskey-brown eyes, and I do. I count them while my Anna takes a moment.
She licks her lips .
“You’re wrong,” she whispers.
I don’t know what she’s talking about, so I wait for her to continue.
“You are the most merciful man I have ever met.”
“What? No, I’m not. I’m probably the most selfish fucking man you ever met,” I counter, shaking my head.
“Nico, you asked me to listen, and I did. I hear you, Husband. Now, I need you to hear me.”
I freeze while Anna lifts her hands to my face and rearranges herself, so she is straddling my lap. My hands go to her hips.
I’m rock fucking hard, and her heated pussy is soaking my shorts. But I don’t know what she’s about to say, so I don’t move.
“You’re a good man, Nico Fury. You’re strong, and proud, and merciful. You help those in need, some who don’t deserve it. Yeah, you do things off book, but the world is an imperfect place. Laws are human creations and humans make mistakes. You do your best in this fucked up world. And I love you for it,” she says.
My eyes close and I drop my forehead to hers. I shiver. My whole body is coiled tight.
“I love you, Nico.”
She says it again. I feel her hands slide between us, she lifts up onto her knees, and I feel her pulling the waistband of my shorts down.
“Fuck, Anna.”
She wraps her hand around my cock and positions me at her entrance.
“I love you,” she says it again, sinking down and taking me all the way inside her.
I’m lost. Lost in her heat. Her wet warmth. Lost in her words.
“I love you,” she says it again.
She keeps on saying it as she rocks her hips and rocks my world.
Finally, I snap out of my reverie. I clutch at her, lifting her up and slamming her back down. My lips cover hers, and I run my hands up her sides, to her back, her neck, her hair.
I pull on it, catching her moan in my mouth while she bounces up and down. Her big tits squish against my chest and I fucking love them. Every curve and dimple, every inch of her, is sublime.
“I love you, too, Rosebud. And I'm gonna keep loving you until the last breath leaves my body.”
We move and writhe, each of us desperate for each other. And when we explode, it’s together and I feel it in the very bottom of my soul.
Anna settles inside me .
She is everywhere. She surrounds me, confounds me, astounds me, and I am so fucking hers.
Anna wrecks me.
She cracks my heart open, and she changes everything.
She makes it better.