25. Nico
NICO
Valeria swallows thickly, her gaze fixed on the seat in front of her while deep blue waters glitter and flash thousands of feet below us.
The plane jolts, and she claws into her armrests, whimpering a little.
“If I’d known you were scared of flying, I would’ve picked a different location,” I say. I hold the complimentary champagne toward her. “You sure you don’t want to take the edge off?”
She glances toward the drink, swallows, and shakes her head before staring forward again. “I’m good.”
“You look terrified.”
“I’m not,” she bites back. The plane jiggles, and she squeezes her eyes shut and continues, “I love hurtling through the air over the empty ocean in a metal tube that defies the laws of physics. I love that we watched Final Destination last week, so I have an especially vivid idea of what a plane crash would look like.”
The businessman sitting across the aisle throws us a dirty look.
Valeria peels her eyes open to scowl at me. “I find it relaxing.” She’s cute.
“So, Hong Kong next?” I ask, setting aside my drink and leaning toward her so she’ll reach for me next. She glares like she knows exactly what I’m thinking. So fucking cute. “It’s just a little fifteen-hour flight. A blink.”
We could ride the Star Ferry to watch the light show on the city skyline. We’d go to a restaurant to try every item on the menu until she finds something she likes. Walking through a night market stuffed with people. Getting lost together.
We could—get lost together. The thought flickers in my mind like a sputtering candle. People hide in places like Hong Kong all the time.
The plane bounces—lightly—and Valeria clutches onto my arm. She looks a little green.
“Do you want me to ask an attendant for extra barf bags?“ I ask.
She swallows a lungful of air. “Why would I do that? You packed extra shirts.”
“Anything to get me undressed.”
“Just distract me.” She glances out the window and back to me as quickly. The sunlight pours over her dark hair, lighting the strands on fire. “Why Hawaii?” Tired and sick, she pins her gaze to me like I’m the only thing keeping her tethered.
I thread my fingers into her hair, so thick and full in my hand. “Just thought we could unwind.”
An hour later, the plane coasts, and Valeria’s mostly distracted watching Friday the 13th. I ease myself out from under her, spot a woman passing the flight attendant’s cart to the first-class bathroom, and head toward the economy seating.
Valeria’s not the only one experiencing the joys of public aircraft for the first time. The food sucks, the legroom is awful, and breathing air circulated with this many people can not be good for you.
I wonder if Valeria would’ve been just as miserable on my private plane. It would’ve been easier to relax her, at least. I could’ve fucked her gently on a couch as I talked her through her fears.
In the back of the plane, a man with a hat pulled low, eye mask, and pillow around his neck snores next to two empty seats. Something about him scrapes against my thoughts, and as I wash my hands in the bathroom sink, the puzzle pieces click into place.
I leave the bathroom and drop next to the man. He pretends to keep snoring.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t feed you piece-by-piece to a shark.”
Cosimo, one of my father’s soldiers, stops snoring, but otherwise doesn’t move. “Most shark attacks happen in Maui, usually in the fall. I’d be more likely to drown first,” he says, voice muffled by his pillow.
“I’m willing to take that risk.”
He shifts in his seat, pointing his eye mask in my direction. “I’m only here to watch. No need for hostility.”
“Take the first plane back and there won’t be any.”
“You want me to leave, take it up with your papà.” He relaxes into his seat and folds his arms over his belly, with the sort of reassurance that comes from having a higher power on your side.
My fingers itch for a knife. I scrub my hand over my jaw, pricking my palm with my short stubble.
This plane is probably crawling with my father’s men. There’s nowhere I could go where he wouldn’t follow.
“You want to keep your eyes in your head, keep your ugly fucking mug out of my sight.”
“You got it, boss.”
A sweet, balmy ocean breeze curls into the room as Valeria slips from the bed. She picks up the white robe I’d thrown to the floor hours before, slips into it, and steps outside onto the balcony.
I rest on my back for a while, watching her from under my eyelashes as she settles into the wide daybed facing the ocean. Fiery orange waves crash against the surf in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. A few stragglers stroll through the sand, soaking every last drop of golden sunlight before night falls.
We’ve fallen into an unspoken agreement not to talk about what comes next.
The threats on her life, moving to New York, becoming a don, my father. Instead, we talk about the sand in her bathing suit, the taste of yellowfin tuna, the scent of plumerias.
Valeria saves scraps of anything she can get her hands on—receipts, menus, and magazines—cheap memories to use for her collages later. She thinks I don’t notice, but I do.
I should probably stop her. She doesn’t need to remember the good parts. She shouldn’t have anything that drags her back to me. But I don’t, because anything changes—if Father dies early—and I can be with her?
I would.
She sighs, the soft sound barely audible over the rolling surf. I stand and drift to her like she’s called my name.
Bamboo covers two walls of the balcony for privacy, creating the illusion that it’s just us and the open ocean.
Naked and unashamed, I lean against a wall. From this angle I can see her long, slender legs resting on the daybed, but only a sliver of her face.
“What are you doing out here?” I ask.
The curve of her cheek lifts.
“Waiting for you.” She tilts her head back, her dark eyes widening when she sees me unclothed.
“Well,” I say, enjoying the weight of her gaze on me, enjoying the game of reliving our first meeting like it’s a fresh start. “I’m here.”
She glances between my legs, a tiny smirk on the corner of her mouth. “You cold?”
My cock’s already growing long and thick under her attention. I palm myself, stroking once. “Do I look cold to you?”
Her smirk grows. “Maybe a little.”
I take two steps and ease myself onto the mattress next to her, fighting the stabbing pain in my side.
Her smirk dies, twisting into a grimace. I must not be hiding the pain as well as I think.
“Nico,” she says in a slow warning, like she’s going to mention any of the things we’ve been ignoring this trip.
I lean forward to kiss her. Her lips, pink and naked without her red warpaint, match mine, her mouth opening for my tongue.
She hooks her thigh over mine, weaving our bodies together, and I suck on her lip, her tongue, before dropping my face to her neck to suck there too. She tastes like the ocean.
“I swear to god,” she gasps. “You better not leave any more hickeys.”
She’s right—I don’t need to leave any more marks. I drag my mouth away like I’m forcing myself away from a lifesaving breath.
Her pupils are blown wide. Her lips are swollen and pink. My cock is leaving a mess on the daybed.
Her gaze flicks back and forth between mine.
“I’m going to tell you something,” she says carefully. “But I want you to be normal about it.”
My heart pounds against my chest. “I can be normal.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “I’m not sure you know what that word means.”
“It’s taxes and stuff. Nine-to-fives. Friday movie nights. Hiking on the weekends. I know all about normal.”
She still looks skeptical, but she takes a breath and exhales. My chest swells. She traces a line down my neck with a single fingernail.
It’s selfish, but I just need to hear it from her once—those three words that promise I mean as much to her as she does to me, that mean if I came back into her life ten years from now—just for a glimpse of her—she’d look at me then the way she is now.
I need it more than my next breath.
She swallows. “I think you’re really handsome.”
I blow out a laugh—fuck—my ribs stab into my side, and I roll onto my back, wincing and trying not to breathe too hard while my fractured bones shank me from the inside.
Valeria’s face pops into my vision as she braces herself on one hand. Her perfect tits flash me from beneath her robe. “That was very convincing. Very normal.”
“I thought you were going to say ‘I love you.’”
Her eyes sparkle. “I thought you figured that out already.”
“You’re killing me.”
“Okay, fine.” She scoops my face into her hands. For a moment, her eyes glimmer like she’s holding back tears. “Nico, I love you.”
I’m on top of her in an instant. Pain shoots through my body with the sharp movement, but after my vision clears and I can breathe again, I concentrate on her. Her breasts spilling out of her robe, her ink-black hair pooling onto the daybed.
Her unguarded expression, trusting and awestruck.
My heart wrenches like a bolt breaking free from centuries of rust. “Say it again.”
“You’re really handsome,” she breathes. “Like, model handsome.”
I thrust my hips forward, the head of my cock kissing against her entrance, already slick and hot for me.
“One more chance,” I warn.
The battle for mischief wars across her face, and then I see the moment when she gives in. Her lips part. “Nico, I am hopelessly, irresistibly, infuriatingly in love with you.”
I plunge into her.
She gasps as I fill her, clenching around me, squeezing me as I bury my cock inside. Pleasure zips down my spine. I grip her jaw and tilt her face toward mine.
“I love you, Valeria. You’ve had your claws in me since the moment I first saw you.” I rock inside her, slowly, imperceptibly. “I am going to love you until the day I die.”
She hangs on my every word, fingers tracing the tattoos on my chest. Then she whispers my name, and I crush my mouth to hers, stealing kisses and moans from her, before settling my mouth on her collarbone and licking there, but not sucking against her skin.
I won’t mark her, not like that if she doesn’t want it, so I drive deep inside her instead, reaching all the places inside her no other man will be able to reach.
I’ll mark her from the inside, and then she’ll be mine. Forever. No matter what.
Fire settles at the base of my cock. I won’t last much longer, but judging by the way she’s tightening like a coil, neither will she.
“Tell me again,” I grit out against her neck. I bite into her shoulder—fighting not to leave an imprint there. I’d mark every inch of her body if I could—I’d mark her soul.
“Nico—god—Nico, I’m coming,” she cries out.
I fight against my own impending orgasm with every ounce of my willpower and lift my head.
“I’m going to come. Tell me you want every drop,” I rave.
I’m losing my mind. “Tell me you want me to breed your tight cunt. Tell me how much you want me to give you a baby.” I grit my teeth, the heat in my body from holding back becoming unbearable, a Herculean effort.
Her pussy clenches in waves, and she throws her head back into the pillow. “Fill me up, Nico. Give me a baby. I want you so badly, please, please. I promise I won’t waste a single drop.”
Ah, fuck.
“That’s my pretty girl,” I hiss into her ear as I thrust into her. “That’s my little slut—begging to be bred by her husband.”
She nods against my mouth, and I burst, pulsing as I sink deep into her like I can make our fantasy a reality—like I could give her a baby through sheer force of will and bind her to me forever, and the rest would just fall into place, the universe giving way to a love so powerful that it reshapes destiny.
After, we lay like that for a long time.
My ribs hurt like shit, but I don’t care. I won’t move from her.
“Nico,” she says, writhing under me. “You’re heavy.”
“Shh,” I whisper, holding her underneath me. “We have to stay like this. To make it stick.”
It’s a fantasy. I know she has her birth control, but she plays along regardless. She stills underneath me, before kissing my neck. “It’s okay, Nico. I can feel it. You did it.”
I kiss along her face, arousal surging, my dick giving a valiant effort. It’s pretend—it’s all pretend—but I don’t care. I’m happy, euphoric as an addict at the peak of their high, before the crash.
She pushes against me, and I give her one more kiss before tumbling off. We stare up at the early night sky, our hands joined, listening to the ocean waves lapping against the shore.
“Where would you want to raise our kids?” I ask, the question leaving my mouth the moment it sparks in my mind. “If you could pick anywhere?”
Her hand squeezes mine. “Not Chicago. Or New York. Anywhere else, far away.” Her broken tone tugs at my heart.
I roll my head to look at her. “We’d need a big house. Something with enough rooms for all the kids.”
She turns toward me, a guarded expression on her face. “All the kids?”
“Yeah, all six of them.”
A rare smile graces her mouth before falling.
“I don’t think I’d make a good mom.”
I cup her face, rubbing my thumb along her bottom lip. “Why would you say something like that?”
“My mom left me with a note that said to watch yourself. She knew at least some of this would happen, and she ran anyway. And, I’m not even that sad she’s gone.
I’m mad at her and I know it’s not right, but her disappearing is almost a relief.
It’s one less thing for me to deal with.
Same for my dad. He’s dead, and I don’t even care.
” She laughs bitterly. “I think I’m a really fucked-up person. ”
I pull her against my chest, ignoring the pain in my side, and stroke her hair.
“No. You’re not fucked up. You grew up in the worst possible conditions, with the worst family, and still became someone who was smart and kind and loyal.
You’re nothing like your parents. You’re like…
” I search the endless ocean for the words, “like one of your collages. You take all the trash and scraps and shape them into something beautiful. Something valuable. And I see the way you love your friends, and how you love me. I know, without a doubt, that you’ll make the best mom any child could ask for. ”
I can see it, too. Valeria smiling warmly at a little girl with dark hair and dark eyes and none of my features, because that’s the only way she’ll be able to have that for herself.
She sighs and nestles into me, and I hold her close, wishing I could hold on to this moment forever.