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“Ah, the lovers are escaping for the night!”
Andy catches us on the way out, a drink in his hand and a drunk haze in his eyes. He watches as his wife buzzes around the room, acting as the perfect hostess. Both she and Alice had made sure the night ran smoothly. At one point, I saw Bianca insert herself between two men who had gotten into a heated argument. By the time she left them, they were laughing with each other like they were best friends.
Is that what’s going to be expected of me?
I’ve never been that kind of person. I’ve always been someone who shies away from the spotlight. Yet, I’m marrying the future head of the Lombardi family. It isn't a position made for my introverted nature.
I bet Nina would thrive in that kind of role.
I gulp down the rest of my wine on the way upstairs and don’t look back at Enzo following me.
Chapter Thirty-Two- Enzo
Since the night I put the engagement ring on Emma’s finger, she hasn’t fought me about sleeping in our bed. Even when we traveled to Kansas, she slept right alongside me. So where is she?
Our original plan was for us to stay at the hotel for the night, but Emma had decided she wanted to come home. I couldn’t blame her. She spent the entire night surrounded by the major players in the illegal weapons trade, drug trade, and other markets not filled in the traditional sense. These are the kinds of men who exploit weaknesses in our capitalistic society. They smuggle anything into the country if it will turn a profit. Hell, eggs have become a hot commodity because of the regulations put in place by the government, limiting the traditional supply chains.
Never did I suspect I would hear about a war between families over ranchers in Mexico. It’s been a strange year.
Being in the room with people like that is sure to have the hairs standing up on the back of her neck. Her instincts were telling her to run, to get as far away from the hotel as she could and somewhere safe. Instincts are powerful things, and I’ll never tell her to ignore them. If something were to happen, they may be what keeps her alive.
I scooped Matteo up from the bed where he had been sleeping and carefully carried him to our car which was pulled up behind the hotel. The guards cleared the way for us to ensure no one saw him, and they stuck around to watch from a distance. I’d like to dismiss them completely for the night, but the hotel wasn’t the correct place to do that. It was too dangerous.
Once we got home, she had gone to get Matteo settled in his room. I had showered, half hoping she would join me. She didn't. Instead of allowing that to bug me, I accept she's still coming to terms with her attraction to me. Soon, she’ll be as hungry for me as I am for her. When I came out of the bathroom, I expected to see her either cuddled up in the sheets and ready to go to sleep or waiting to use the shower herself.
But the room is empty. The sheets on the bed are still perfectly smooth after being made by the maid this morning. There isn’t a wrinkle to show she sat down.
I check Matteo’s room first. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s fallen asleep while cuddling Matteo. Or the first time Matteo has decided he wants to spend some extra time with his mom when she should be in our bed. The faint glow of the nightlight casts enough light for me to make out the small, sleeping form on his racecar bed. He’s alone. There isn’t room for Emma if she was to share the bed with him. Matteo has stretched his limbs out to their full length, taking over every inch of the bed.
I stay long enough to watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest. In such a short period, Matteo has taken over most of my life and thoughts. He has weaseled his way into being the single most important priority in my life. I would do anything for him. The same goes for his mother if she would stop being so damn infuriating.
Once I close the door to his room, I make my way down the hallway, peeking into every room. It isn’t until I get to the room she had claimed as her own before the engagement that I find her, and I don’t need to open the door to know she’s in there. I can smell the tantalizing scent she had put on for the party lingering more heavily in the hallway outside it.
She hasn’t taken a shower or changed into pajamas, something I’m sure she’ll regret in the morning. She’s taken off her dress, leaving her nearly naked in only her bra and underwear passed out on the bed. I don’t know much about makeup, but I know my sisters always complain when they sleep with it on. I gently wash her face and pluck out the bobby pins from her hair. There are about a million of those goddamn little fuckers. Bianca insisted on doing her hair for her before the event and had stolen her away for a couple of hours. Now I can see why.
I slip her bra off and replace it with the t-shirt I had been wearing when I came into the room. The guards monitoring the house can see me shirtless, but I’ll lose it if they see her without a top. That’s a privilege reserved for me.
“Enzo?” she mutters, still half asleep. I lift her in my arms and she cuddles into my chest. Despite trying to sleep away from me, her body knows what it wants. And it wants to be close to me.
“Tomorrow I’m going to punish you for trying to sleep anywhere other than next to me,” I whisper in her ear. I’m not sure how much of it her sleep-addled brain is processing. An eye pops open and she turns her head to look at me.
“Punish me? I’m not a child.”
“The things I plan to do to you, a child has no business understanding.”
Even while she’s half asleep, her body responds to my words. She breathes a little faster. Her nipples pebble and press against my t-shirt. I readjust her in my arms so I can snake one of my hands up to her chest and roughly pinch at one of those tantalizing nipples.
An unhindered moan slips from her lips. It’s low and guttural, ripped from those same instincts that told her to run earlier. Out of all the dangerous men who had been in that room, she had the worst one on her side. I may not be a good man, but her hindbrain knows she’s safe with me.
“What are you going to do, spank me again?” she asks me, nuzzling her head into my chest. I drop a kiss on her forehead, loving how she sighs contently and cuddles closer to me. If she gets any closer, she’s going to fuse our bodies. I’m not complaining.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I told you, baby, if you need a spanking, you can just ask me. There’s no need to act up.”
I don’t intend on spanking her this time. There are many more creative punishments I can use.
I lay Emma down in our bed and slip in behind her, pulling her body in close to mine. Before Emma, I never knew if I would be a cuddler, because cuddling was theoretical. I didn’t stick around long enough after sex to find out if it was something I would enjoy. The first night with Emma, all those years ago, I craved her touch long after she left me.
If I had tried it with anyone else, I doubt I would have liked it. Because it isn’t about having another body next to mine, but about having Emma.
