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“I’ll drink to that.” I take another sip, finishing off the champagne in my glass. I don’t want any more on an empty stomach. That’s all I’d need on my wedding night, to be worshipping the porcelain throne when what I really want to be doing is worshipping Nico, or vice versa.
“What are you two drinking to?” Wylde asks.
“Nothing that we’re going to tell you, brother o’ mine,” I respond before Celeste can, causing her to giggle. Wylder can’t stand to not be in on the joke.
“Whatever. You two gluttons almost ready?” I’m confused. Nico makes an appearance from the garage; he and Enzo were in there talking, I’m sure about business I’m not privy to.
“What’s going on?” I whisper to my now husband as he stands next to me. His hand slides long my outer thigh until he places it on top, thumb sliding beneath the hem of my dress.
“Enzo’s going to grab the Suburban. We have dinner reservations with our friends and family at Wylder’s hotel and casino. Security is top notch there, so you can relax and be yourself. After that, they’ll do their own thing. Then it’ll be the two of us. Your choice on where we go and what we do, in a manner of speaking.” Nico gives me carte blanche. An idea forms in my head after he gave me the go-ahead during our vows.
“I think I owe you something important that goes on a certain finger on a certain hand after our vows.” I raise my eyebrows at him. Nico gets it, completely. His ring is on my finger, and I want my ring on his, a statement of sorts. I’m no idiot. Nico Donotello is sex personified with his dark roguish and muscular appearance. He dresses like the mafia businessman he is and garners looks from women and men alike. “A ring for you. I’d like that to be our first stop, then I don’t care what we do. But I know you’ll be going to work tomorrow, and I’d like for you to be wearing it.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. We may get a hotel for the night or come back home. We’ll see how things go.” I sink further into his body, seeking his warmth. There’s one thing I’ll have to get used to staying at Nico’s house: his air conditioning is always humming, which means I’ll be freezing to death or wearing sweatpants and socks, looking like it’s snowing inside the house instead of the high nineties it is outside right now.
“Okay.” I shiver, feeling the cool temperature drop yet again. “I’m going to go grab a jacket before we head out. Between you and Wylder, I’m bound to freeze to death.”
“It’s already by the garage door, vita mia,” Nico replies, taking care of me in a way that has my heart melting in a different way.
“Oh, thank you.” Enzo appears, keys in hand, and nods at Nico, letting him know he’s ready whenever we are.
“Suburban is ready. Let’s get some food.” Nico helps me from my barstool. I pull my dress down, feeling the heat of his gaze on my thighs as he watches me do so, knowing he’s counting down the hours until he is able to rip the fabric off my body. The six of us—Nico, Wylder, Celeste, Delaney, Enzo, and myself—shuffle out towards the garage. Enzo is up front with Delaney, Celeste and Wylder take the back row, and Nico and I are sitting in the middle row. He pulls me towards him me until I’m the middle, with his arm around my shoulders, my fingers playing with his that are hanging freely. Today has been a wild ride, something out of an amusement park, my emotions soaring up and then plummeting. Truth be told, I thought Nico and I would have the evening to ourselves, but that’s not how it’s turning out to be as Enzo drives. Light chatter is happening up front, and there are noises in the background that I refuse to turn my head to see what’s happening. Dear God, my brother could cause me to toss my cookies.
“Hey, Nico.” I use my other hand to block my view of whatever the hell is going on in the back seat. I love my brother, but I’ve almost walked in on them before, and I don’t want to see or visualize what they’re doing now.
“Yeah, Journey.” There’s amusement in his voice. My face is probably giving the impression that I’m unimpressed.
“If you don’t tell your best friend to stop making sexual noises, tonight isn’t going to go the way we planned.” That’s when I hear Wylder’s snickering, Celeste slapping him and realize that little fucker did that to make me squirm.
“I think the coast is clear.” Nico’s lips press against mine, soft and sweet. The kiss is over before it could even begin.
“Assholes, all of you. The next time we all go out to dinner, I’m going to demand it happens in separate vehicles.” I turn around, moving my body until my legs are situated on the seat, nestled in the crook of Nico’s body. The laughter leaving his chest makes me huff in annoyance. It’s a good thing he can’t see the smile on my face, or he’d really have a good chuckle at my expense. I close my eyes, relaxing and soaking in those moments from earlier today, when we said our vows. I believe Nico and I can make this work, where we’ll have a few kids and grow old together.
SEVENTEEN
Nico
I watchJourney walk around the Vegas Strip, carefree and happy after a meal shared between us all, after which our group left shortly after. It was just us, with Journey’s hand in mine, after I asked Enzo to drive to a jewelry store, where she picked a ring out for me to wear—a thick band, platinum in color. She slid it on me the minute the receipt was signed. The fact that she refused to let me buy it showed me another side of her, one I know I’ll see more times to come, the independent businesswoman who takes no shit. Yeah, Journey’s going to fit right in as a boss’ wife.
“Have a good day, vita mia?” I ask her as we walk back into the house. I had big plans for making this a wedding night she wouldn’t forget. A night at a hotel on The Strip in a penthouse with a view of the city lights. Those plans were foiled rapidly after Enzo spotted a few of Petrov’s men following behind us. If it were me on my own, I’d have gone after them instead of my men having to do the dirty work without me being there right alongside them.
“I did. Can you untie my dress for me?” She turns around, showing off her bare back with two strings holding the dress together. Feeling her smooth skin all afternoon and well into the evening was pure fucking torture. Knowing she was bare beneath it only made it more unbearable. How do I know there’s no bra or panties beneath? The bra was an easy target—no strap. And her pebbled nipples when we walked by an air vent had me wanting to take off my suit jacket and drape it over her shoulders. I did it a few times, especially at a blackjack table when we stayed longer than a few minutes.
“Of course.” I pull the string. When Journey drops her arms, the white confection drops to the floor, and my eyes land on just what I suspected and felt all along when my finger would graze her skin on her lower back.
“Gesù Cristo.”Jesus Christ.She’sa work of art. Artists would weep to paint a portrait of Journey like this, with her dress at her feet, heels accentuating her legs and ass. The need to bend her over the bed, spread her legs, and bury my mouth between the cheeks of her ass, licking her from clit to ass, consumes me.
“Nico.” My eyes leave her ass when she says my name in a way I’m all too attuned to, laced with passion. “Nico,” she states again, snapping me out of the trance her beauty has me in. Her hair is falling out of its loose clasp, and her eyes are smokey, tinged with need as she arches her back while she speaks over her shoulder.
“Stay like that for me.” I take a step back and jerk my suit jacket off my body before I go for the cufflinks, dropping those on the ground as well. My shirt is next, Italian leather shoes gone, then I’m bending over to slide off my socks, leaving me in only my suit pants and belt. I unbuckle my belt as I watch Journey take a deep breath, excitement humming off her body. “You like the idea of me using my belt. The question is, do you want it around your wrists, or should I use it on your ass, the leather stinging with every fall of the belt?” She has felt the sting of my hand on her ass, but never anything more, probably never will either, but using my belt to wrap those beautiful wrists of hers, making her vulnerable while I take my time with her? Fuck, yes.
“You expect me to answer with a fully functioning brain?” she smarts back, stepping out of the pile of the clothes that dropped at her feet.
“Then I guess it’s my choice. Seeing as how you couldn’t listen, I’m going to do one better. Hands behind your back, Journey.” I slide the belt out of my loops, watching as she grasps her hands together, in a handshake-type hold. It takes me no time at all to wrap her wrists behind her back, then move around until I’m in front of her. My eyes sweep hers. Her pupils dilate, a sign that I know all too well of what she gets like when I’m taking control. The tips of her nipples are hard enough to cut diamonds. My mouth waters to taste them; that’s for later, though. Right now, it’s going to be Journey using that wicked tongue and mouth on my length. The softness of her stomach, hips flaring out before sloping back in, draws my gaze to the bare flesh between her legs that is dripping with desire.
“Please,” she mumbles. Unsure of what she’s using that six-letter word for, I bite the inside of my lip, knowing exactly what we both want. My hands start at her waist and move upward, dragging the tips of my fingers until they’re at her shoulders.
“I want you on your knees, that pretty mouth of yours wrapped around my cock.” I guide her downwards. She goes willingly, my wife. Fuck, using that word has me prouder than I should be, but watching as Journey yields to me so willingly, it’s something I’ll always take care of.
