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“Can I have a cuddle?” I ask, pouting. “Please?” I ignore the chuckles behind me and open my arms, walking to her, my efforts to remain in a relatively straight line quite feeble. “I don’t want to fight.”
“You always say that after we’ve had a fight, but you seem quite set on fighting while we’re fighting.”
“What am I supposed to do, baby? Hide everything from you?” I take her chin and lift her face to mine, closing one eye to focus. Perhaps I should hide it all. Leave her here, go back to Miami, deal with it all, and come back. Hopefully in one piece. I feel like I’ve been tossed back to the beginning of this shitshow and have to sit through the entire crappy performance all over again. Except this time, I have no fucking popcorn. Or any fucking leads. And my wife’s fucking pregnant.Fuck my life.I rest my hands on her shoulders and she exhales heavily, taking my wrists.
“I don’t want you to hide anything from me,” she says.
“Then I won’t.”Bullshit, Black.
“How’s this happened?”
I squint, thinking hard, like I might find the answer. Of course I won’t fucking find the answer, and in this moment, actually, I don’t want to. I just want to go to bed and cuddle her to death. Fuck the men. We’ll meet in the morning.
I turn, ready to instruct them all to fuck off, with the exception of my mother, of course, but find everyone has gone. “Where did they go?”
“Home, I expect.” Rose snakes an arm around my waist, and I start walking us to the bedroom. Leaning on her. Just a little. “Everyone’s been looking for you for hours.”
“I was on the beach getting drunk.”
“No shit.”
“No, really, I was.” I dip and push my mouth into her hair, just before we reach the bed, and she releases me. I fall onto the mattress. Room spin finds me immediately. “I’m rea”—hiccup—“...lly drunk.”
“You’re really fucking annoying, that’s what you are.” She unfastens my trousers and I look down on what I expect is a lopsided grin.Oh, yeah?I had hoped but didn’t want to assu—
“Forget it, Black,” she mutters, yanking my trousers down my legs and casting them aside before starting on my shirt.
“Did you say no to me?” I seize her wrist and still her, looking at her for an answer. The right answer. “I’m a mafia boss, baby.”
“I know,” she purrs, dropping her lips to mine and kissing me softly. I sigh happily, opening up to her. “But tonight, you’re not a hard one.” She pushes into my soft dick as she bites my lip. “And this moll is too tired after stressing out over where her mafia husband had disappeared to.”
I scowl. “I was on the beach.”
“Yes, but I thought you’d left for Miami.”
I snort. “Without James and Brad?”
“And Otto and Ringo and Goldie.”
“Otto can fuck off.” I slam my head onto the pillow. “He’s banished.”
“Tell your mother that.”
“I will.” I grab Rose and yank her onto the bed, wrapping every arm and leg around her. Or try to.
“Still hate me?” she whispers, kissing my forearm where it’s curled around her neck.
“Always, baby,” I murmur. “And forever.”
* * *
Fuck. Me. To. Hell.
“No, no, no,” I mumble, rolling over, trying desperately to find a cool spot on my pillow.
“Yes, yes, yes,” a sweet, feminine voice sings back.
I still and scowl. Pout. Roll my eyes. I’m never going to live this down. Only twice in my life have I been drunk beyond drunk. It’s not me. I’m vulnerable under the influence. At risk. But the truth is, if I hadn’t drunk last night, I would have headed straight to the hangar, got on my plane back to Miami, and...
