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I breathed against her mouth and listened to her moan for me, her nails digging in a little harder as I made love to her slowly. Her moans became louder, her nails became sharper, and then she came with a moan that shook the house.
I came next, filling her perfect slit with all my come. It was how I started every morning, making love to my woman before I hauled shit all day. Her uncle and father refused to acknowledge my existence unless they were insulting me. It was tough work, especially when I could be doing anything else. But these mornings made it worth it, this time when we didn’t say a single word to each other. We just clung to one another, made love, and then started our day afterward.
I loved every morning.
We both showered so we wouldn’t smell like sex and then headed to the winery. We didn’t talk about her brother’s visit last night, probably because nothing about it was surprising. Conway hated me like everyone else.
Not exactly news.
We drove in silence, Vanessa sipping her coffee in the passenger seat with her sunglasses on her nose. She wore a red sundress today, low-cut in the front with her hair curled and pulled to the side. She wore a small sun hat, fitting in with the Tuscan countryside perfectly. This place was in her blood.
I knew the men who came to the wine tasting would stare at her all afternoon.
But they couldn’t have her—she was mine.
We arrived at the winery then hopped out of the truck. She was heading into a different building, so I walked her to the cobblestone patio and then peered down at her, tempted to kiss her.
She gave me a slight smile, knowing exactly what I was thinking. “See you later.”
I hated staring at her like this, staring at her like I couldn’t have her. No one was around, but I didn’t want to cross the line and piss off her father for the afternoon. He was looking for any reason to get rid of me, so I couldn’t risk putting him in a bad mood.
She moved her hand to my forearm and gave me a gentle squeeze.
“Yeah. See you later.” I turned away and let her hand slid away from my arm. I walked into the warehouse where the wine was filtered and processed. Wine was bottled and then the bottles placed in boxes. My job was to move those heavy boxes and prepare them for shipments. It was hard labor, but I was committed to outperforming any other worker they had.
They would never acknowledge it. But at least I would know.
I got to work and immediately worked up a sweat, the moisture darkening my neckline, underneath my arms, and along my back. Sweat formed on my forehead, but I kept working through the morning, knowing my woman was across the way, refilling wine for her customers. She looked beautiful in that red dress with her dark skin. Her mascara made her eyelashes thicker, and her eyeliner brought out the natural color of her eyes. I smiled as I thought about her, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
And she was mine.
Crow stepped inside the warehouse, dressed in all black. A pistol sat on his hip. He scanned the warehouse before he looked at me.
I knew he didn’t wear a gun at work on a regular basis. His toy was just for me.
How flattering.
I kept working, assuming he was looking for something else besides me.
Crow walked up to me, his muscular shoulders stretching his t-shirt. His black wedding ring sat on his left hand, the metal reflecting the sunlight that came through the windows. His dark gaze was on me, telling me had something to say.
I wiped my hands on my jeans then straightened, meeting his gaze with my own. I never knew what Crow was going to throw my way. He was unpredictable, keeping his thoughts deep behind his eyes. He had a great poker face.
Crow moved his hands to his hips, his hand dangerously close to his gun.
I was always afraid of the moment I was dreading, the moment when he would tell me to leave Vanessa and disappear. It was my worst nightmare. The longer I was with Vanessa, the harder I fell. She was such an incredible woman, so strong and so compassionate. She put up with her family’s hatred of me, but she somehow remained loyal to both of us at the same time. If she wasn’t such a good artist, she should have been a diplomat.
Crow seemed unsure what he wanted to say, because he kept staring at me like he was indecisive.
I wanted to start the conversation, but I was too afraid to come off sarcastic or cold.
Crow finally found the right words. “Come with me.” He turned around and left the warehouse.
