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“Yes, boss.” Their mirrored replies are cut off by the slam of the door.
The next thing I know, Theo has me in the air and sitting on a wooden bench. His mouth fuses with mine, his tongue pushing in. Rushed. Seeking. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him tighter against me. My skirt’s bunched up, and Theo fumbles to undo his belt and pants, before he pushes my panties to the side and slams into me. Hard.
“Oh, fuck,” I cry out, the sting taking a bit to settle. But Theo doesn’t stop; he just keeps thrusting forward. His movements are frantic. I’ve never seen him so desperate. I wrap my legs around his waist and encourage him to take from me. To take whatever it is he needs. If this is the only comfort I can offer him, then I’ll gladly give it.
It’s not long before my wetness coats our bodies. He slides in and out, and with each frenzied penetration, I think he can’t possibly reach any further into my depths. But, somehow, he does. And when he does, it’s as if he’s claiming a new part of me.
“Fuck, Holly, I need you. I fucking need to feel you come. This, you. You’re fucking perfection in my otherwise fucked-up world. Come for me, Holly. Now,” Theo grunts.
He reaches a hand between our bodies and pinches my clit. With that one pinch, I’m gone. Soaring over the edge. Stars—the lot.
Theo stiffens as his thrusts grow more rigid. He empties himself inside me, before his head falls to my chest. Neither of us move for a good minute. Then I feel it. The heavy rise and fall of his chest, the dampness soaking into my top.
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay. We will get through this together, Theo.” My words of comfort are shit, even I know that. My hands go to his hair and lift his head so his eyes meet mine. “It’s going to be okay,” I repeat. I don’t know the grief of losing a parent—not in that way—but Idoknow grief. And while it may never go away, it will get easier to live with.
“He wasn’t supposed to go this soon.”
“I know, but you have to do this, T. You are a leader. You and I, we’re going to do this together.”
“I don’t know what angel sent you to me, but thank God they did. I couldn’t get through this day without you, Holly.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t have to,” I say, wiping the tears staining his cheeks. I look around the room, and then it dawns on me:we’re still in the bloody church.“Ah, Theo, I’m not Catholic or anything, but even I know doing what we just did in church is probably a big no-no, right?”
“It’s not like we did it on the altar, babe. This room is just the sacristy.” Theo shrugs.
“That sounds like something important, Theo.”
“It’s where the priest gets ready for the service. Don’t worry about it. Trust me, Jesus is forgiving and all. Plus, you’re my wife; we haven’t sinned. This time.” He winks.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
“It’s about fucking time you answered your goddamn phone,” I yell as soon as I hear the call connect.
“Morning. What’s got you all bright and cheery this early on a Monday?” Neo finally answers his phone, after letting it ring out three times. I almost got in the car and drove over to his place.
“Where’ve you been?”
“Asleep. You do realize it’s like six? In the fucking morning.”
“I know. Get up and get strapped—we’ve got a meeting at nine with the three,” I say.
The threeis how my father and John Senior used to refer to the other three families in New York. We’re all supposed to work together, however, my father and John were closer than any of the others. And now I’m wondering what kind of fucked-up shit Mortello dragged my pops into.
“Nine? Why on God’s earth are you even up? That’s still three hours away, T.”
“I’m driving Holly to work in about thirty. I’ve got shit to do—heading the family is no fucking joke, Neo. The amount of shit stacked up on my to-do list is never-fucking-ending.”
“Back up. Holly’s going to work? She’s really going to keep working after marrying you? I thought that was all just a power play on her end, you know, to ruffle your feathers.”
“Apparently not. She’s adamant about going in,” I grunt. I don’t see why she has to go to work. I make more than enough money for both of us.
“I don’t like it. That school’s fucked up. The things I saw in the teachers’ lounge when I hacked into their cameras… Man, it puts a whole new spin on the phrase: teacher’s pet.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“They were doing it in the teachers’ lounge, T. Teachers were doing it, porn-style.”
“Fuck off. That’s one of New York’s most elite schools. They wouldn’t tolerate it.”
