“I’m not dragging my feet,” I repeated. “I’m waiting for the right moment for a reason, okay? Because this is not just a relationship to me. This…you…it’s really fucking important to me.”
He still looked furious, but he was focused on my words rather than being argumentative with his own.
“This is the real deal.” I knew where this relationship was headed even though I was driving with my eyes closed. I knew the destination before the journey. Knew he was the man I wanted for the rest of my life even though he was fucking crazy. “I can’t live without either of you, so it’s absolutely imperative that this goes well.” I lowered my voice until it was a whisper. “Okay?” My eyes shifted back and forth between his. “And if you go in there right now like a maniac…that’s a death sentence.”
He inhaled a slow breath and released it as something between a sigh and a growl. Then his hand moved to my face, and his thumb softly grazed my cheek before his fingers slowly slid into my hair.
The second I felt him touch me, I felt the tide of relief wash over me. I closed my eyes, moving my fingers to his wrist, and felt his slow and steady pulse against my skin. Then I felt his lips on mine, kissing me softly and passionately in that church, his caresses loving and gentle, his fingers sliding farther into my hair.
I should stop him because it would be so easy to get caught like this, but his kiss was like a drug that inhibited all the processes in my brain. I got swept away, felt my hands and feet go numb as I surrendered myself to him.
Then he pulled away, his face just inches from mine. “You can’t live without me?” His eyes were locked on mine, and he had this indescribable magnetic hold on me that was ironclad.
I shook my head slightly, his palm supporting the back of my head. “No.”
A possessiveness moved into his eyes, flags of victory rose in his stare, and he released a quiet moan in satisfaction.
He released the back of my head and grabbed my hand. “Come on.”
I let him pull me, unsure where we were headed.
He moved to the nearest door with a sign that readChapel, opened it and peeked inside before he pulled me with him.
It looked like a room where they had small lectures and readings, three rows of chairs facing a lectern. Maybe twenty people could fit inside.
He locked the door behind us, and the second I heard the click, I knew what he was up to.
“This is achurch.”
A table was positioned against the wall, and he scooped me up and set me on the edge.
“Wolfe.”
He got his pants undone quicker than I’d ever seen him and dropped them to below his ass. “God is welcome to watch.” His hands moved up my dress and grabbed my black thong, tugging it down until it hung off one ankle. Then he pulled me to the edge where he wanted me, my bent knees tucked into his sides, and he entered me with one single thrust.
I stifled the moan that ripped from my mouth…and I was lost.
He fucked me hard on that table, a piston from a semi working furiously to split me clean in two, grunting and moaning like it was the first time he’d gotten to have me.
5
WOLFE
I walked into the office and found Don Mancini seated behind the desk. “You wanted to see me, Don?” The final funeral came and went, and the carpenters were now working on Francesca’s fire-damaged office. Repairs were in motion, and life was starting to move forward once more. Francesca had turned another room in the villa into her office in the meantime.
I helped myself to a seat on one of the couches, arm propped on the armrest as I relaxed into the cushions.
He’d been absorbed in his phone when I walked inside, and without verbally acknowledging what I said, he put it aside with the screen down. Then he left the chair and came around the desk before he leaned against the edge, crossing his arms over his chest just the way Don Russo did. He regarded me for several seconds in heavy silence.
I met his stare with a world-class poker face, knowingexactlywhat was coming down the pike.
“Why did you growl at Alessandro?”
I almost fucking smiled.Almost. “He was bothering Frankie.” Ugh, I hated calling her that. The nickname wasn’t the least bit endearing to me. It made her seem like a tomboy, when she was very much a woman.
“How so?”
“He made a pass at her, she said no, and then he made a pass again,” I said simply. “No means no—at least in my book.”
