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My eyes drifted down from the ceiling to find chocolate brown hair and a beautiful sun kissed face resting on my shoulder, her hand on my chest. Becka was curled into my side, her leg tossed over mine, her steady breathing pressing her breasts against me with every inhale. My chest squeezed tight. So Beautiful. I basked in the knowledge I would be waking up to her beauty every day.
Reaching down I slid a piece of wild hair away from her cheek. She breathed in deep, stirring slightly. I stilled, not wanting to wake her. I laid motionless watching her as she slept, loving how peaceful she looked.
All at once my guts turned to acid. Running my hand down my face, I stared at the ceiling, I cursed under my breath. All I’d wanted was for her to give herself willingly. Now that she had, my feelings for her had grown immensely.
My hand came up to rub harshly against my forehead. Those affections made me think about things I shouldn’t. Becka deserved and normal life and when I pictured it in my mind, I was the man at her side.
It’s impossible.Besides the fact that I didn’t want to; there was no walking away from the Family. Death is the only way out for any man. Even if you were lucky enough to grow old and gray, retirement had a whole different meaning in the mob. They still owned you and expected your loyalty and devotion to do their bidding until your dying day— if they had need of you.
The widows usually remarried to another member or stayed single. Even if they remained single, they were watched by the mob the rest of their lives. The women would be kept close, to be certain the idea of turning states evidence— due to grief or resentment— wouldn’t ever seem like an option.
I’d been wholly committed— without question— to Matteo and Lorenzo for two-thirds of my life. I no longer knew what a normal life looked like. The mob is my life, and will be until the day I die. I’d always known that.
Even so, thoughts I shouldn’t have entertained kept coming back, like a stray cat I shouldn’t have fed the first time. Becka deserved better. A better man. A better life.
This is not the life my parents would have wanted for me; or would have excepted for that matter. I was raised Catholic, going to Mass every Sunday with them, but hadn’t set foot in a church in nearly two decades.
Until Matteo’s wedding.
I’d done so many terrible things, I figured I would burst into flames the moment I stepped foot inside. Though that didn’t happen, I was still sure of one thing; there was no hope for me. My mom would argue different, however she wouldn’t know all the evil shit I’d done, and thrived on it. I was beyond changing and beyond saving. I didn’t deserve it. But Becka made me want it.
How could she ever dare to love me?
Guilt gripped me in a vice, banding around my ribs painfully. My loyalty to the Russos remained top priority. Nothing came before it. Matteo was like a brother to me. Just days ago I assured him I would never fail him. And I would not break my promise.
These thoughts threatened everything. My brow pinched with irritation. I would have to harden myself against them. Entertaining ideas like that would only get me into trouble. My molars ground together, shoving all thoughts of a different life— for either of us— out of my mind.
Our marriage did not exist in a conventional world. I would have to settle for making her as happy as possible. But even if I could make her happy, would she stay that way? Or would she demand more?
Becka was a fighter, and would push me when she wanted to be heard. I did not enjoy the thought of having to put Becka in her place. No matter how big my feelings got for her, we both had a roll to play. And would be expected to maintain it.
My muscles coiled with aggravation, making my arm tighten around her.
“Hmmm.” The muffled sound floated up to my ears.
Becka stirred beside me. I looked down to see fiercely green eyes blinking up at me.
“Good morning,” I said kissing her forehead.
“Good morning,” she replied sleepily. She studied me for a moment. “Are you ok?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You look upset.”
I ran a hand down my face to wipe away the frown that I hadn’t realized stayed in place. “I’m perfect. How could I not be waking up to something as mesmerizing as you?” The first part was a lie.
She smiled. “I’ll be right back.” Becka crawled out of bed and padded across the room. I propped myself up on the pillows to track her naked form. She smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, heat coloring her cheeks.
I chuckled. Still shy.
I laid in bed, sporting major morning wood, wondering how the day would go. I had already planed to take it off. Matteo and Arianna would leave for a short honeymoon today, so tomorrow my work load would increase ten fold. Something I was not looking forward to.
My eyes closed as I laid my head back, trying to not let the upcoming work load effect my one day off. The small sound of feet padding on the wood floor had my head rising.
Becka crossed the room on purposeful feet. She stared me down with lust raging in her eyes. Ok. Maybe not so shy after all? My stomach clenched and my member twitched under the sheet. I smiled at her. My Becka coming back for more.
When she reached the bed, Becka fisted the sheets, ripped them back and climbed on top, hovering her center over my needy erection.
