Page 48 of Married to the Enemy

Chapter 34

The house was quiet.

For the first time in days, real silence pressed in around her. No television murmuring in the background, no sound of Freddy’s walker creaking, no chatter from Nonna, insisting she didn’t need help getting into bed.

Just the soft hum of the furnace and the faint creak of old wood beneath her bare feet as Mia climbed the stairs.

She paused at the landing, the spot that had, without words, become their meeting place. And there he was.

Raffe stood at the top, broad shoulders tense, eyes shadowed with the weight of everything he hadn’t said. The man looked like he carried the whole damn world on his back, and she knew he was going to try to explain. To justify. To put words to the impossible situation that was their lives now.

But she didn’t want words. Not tonight.

Instead, Mia closed the distance between them. She reached up, grabbed the back of his neck, and pulled his head down to hers.

Her lips pressed against his, fierce and certain.

The relief in his response almost undid her. He kissed her back like he’d been waiting for her to give him permission, like he hadn’t dared believe she would. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her in close, his warmth sinking into her very bones.

Mia’s heart thudded wildly. Yes. This. Him.

Because in that moment, she knew the truth. She was in love with Raffe.

Maybe it was insane. She was the daughter of a mafia boss. He was an FBI agent sworn to put men like her father away. On paper, they were oil and water, destined to clash until they destroyed one another.

But nothing about Raffe felt destructive. With him, she felt steady. Strong. Protected, but not trapped. Desired, but not owned.

And now, as they kissed deeply, as he held her like he couldn’t let go, Mia knew there was no way she could live without him.

How it would work out, she had no idea.

But she knew one thing with absolute certainty.

They were going to figure it out. Together.

Last night, he’d picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. But he was too big to reciprocate, so instead, she stepped out of his arms, took his hand, and led him to his bedroom.

“Mia, should we…?” he started, but Mia slipped her hands underneath his sweater and tee-shirt. She stroked his hard, ridged abdomen as Raffe inhaled sharply at her touch. With a clenched jaw, he reached behind his head and pulled his shirt and sweater off, tossing it aside. “You want to play first?” he growled.

“Yeah,” she whispered back, leaning in to kiss the middle of his chest. Then she moved her attention to his nipples, sliding a finger over one before she leaned in and nipped at it, almost laughing out loud when Raffe’s hands tightened convulsively on her waist. In response, he lifted her up and literally tossed her onto the bed.

“I need you naked, woman!” he growled and proceeded to strip her clothes off. He was working on his clothes when she sat up again and started kissing across his chest, her tongue and lips teasing his other nipple while her fingers moved lower, tracing patterns over his firm stomach, smiling when she felt the muscles ripple.

When she pulled back, Mia noticed that he’d released the top button on his jeans. He was just about to unzip when she gasped and grabbed his wrists, holding his hands away from his body. “Wait!” she commanded, her eyes sparkling up at him. “Don’t you know that this look is every woman’s fantasy?”

He stood there, stunned, for a moment while he processed that statement. Then Raffe looked down at himself, then back at her. With a growl, he unzipped his jeans and discarded them and his boxers before coming back onto the bed.

“No, wait!” she insisted, grabbing his wrists again. “Last night, you were in charge. Tonight, I want to be in charge.”

She could see him considering and about to reject the possibility. But Mia refused to accept no for an answer. She moved closer, pressing her softness against him, enjoying the tingles that roared through her at their bared skin. He tried again, but she grabbed onto his shoulders and pressed him back against the bed. “My turn,” she whispered, then straddled his hips.

Mia watched him watching her, his eyes on the juncture of her hips, staring at her core as it pressed against his abdomen.

“Mia, you’re going to have to let me…,” he started, but she lifted his hands, pressing them to her breasts. When she sighed, he tried to take charge, sliding his thumb over her taut, aching nipples.

“No, I don’t have to let you…anything,” she countered, then leaned down, dragging her nipples down his chest and stomach.

She almost laughed as he watched her slowly make her way lower. And lower still. When she reached her goal, Mia began by blowing lightly on his erection.