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There’s no warning for my orgasm. I’m pleading for more when it hits me with the force of an out-of-control freight train to my chest. Thank god, his arm is around me, because every bone inside me melts into goo. Even my lungs refuse to work. I can’t breathe. Oh god, I can’t breathe.
With a shout of my name, Manuel comes, spilling into me. The sensation shatters me all over again, but I’m grateful for the air it forces into aching lungs.
I cling to his arm around me as the world goes black around me.
CHAPTER19
Nicolette
My honeymoon is my dream come true—in every way. If we aren’t in the pool or roaming the small island, I’m tied to the bed. It’s hotter than I thought it would be. Even the moment when he forced me down on the beach when I told him no because I was afraid people would see us. Although there weren’t islands close by, we saw luxury yachts sailing in the area at least once a day. Then it became hot, the idea of someone watching us.
I lose count of the number of orgasms and all the ways we make love. And of course, his promise of me begging him to fuck my ass came true…repeatedly.
A suitcase of clothes for us to wear home was delivered this morning. My mom packed me two different dresses and underwear to go with them. I let Manuel pick which dress he wants me to wear. He goes with a silver silk shirt dress. I’m touched by how careful Manuel was in packing my wedding dress for travel home.
The moment we enter the plane, Manuel’s phone is waiting. It’s not only his phone. He’s informed by the pilot his father wants him in St. Petersburg today. I’m to be picked up later by another pilot. Manuel shakes his head as he reads through his messages.
Turning his attention to me, his hand is under my chin. “Do you want to go home? Or do you want to come with me? This shouldn’t take long, maybe a day, two tops.”
I’m confused by the question. “Wherever you are is home.”
“Get us to St. Petersburg, inform my father the extra plane isn’t necessary,” he says as he wraps his arms around me then carries me to the bedroom.
He wasn’t wrong, it only takes two days. We spend a day exploring the city then another two days in Moscow. The sights are beautiful. However, it’s the way Manuel indulges my every request to see the city with patience I love the most about our time there. My indulging him is not arguing when he buys me jewelry so expensive I gasp at the prices.
Arriving home, I’m going to hell again for how happy I am the girls missed me.
Their shouts of mommy has my chest clenching tight and a rush of tears I struggle to keep back. They hug me tight as if afraid I’ll disappear again. I end up having to stay with them until they fall asleep.
Over the next two weeks, it feels like we’re becoming a real family. I worry the girls are not sociable, they’re almost fearful of the few little girls I urged them to play with the few times we walked to the park in the small village.
So, when one of the mothers in the park mentions a children’s soccer team starting. I plead with Manuel to sign them up. He isn’t excited but agrees. He even takes the lead with signing them up and taking them the first week.
Manuel Rodriguez, the terrifying, lethal enforcer of the largest cartel in the world is fucking adorable. There’s no other word for it. Watching him studying the other fathers interacting with their daughters then mimicking them with Luisa and Ofelia is fucking adorable. The girls immediately flourish under his attention.
During the second week, as we watch Ofelia and Luisa kicking the soccer ball between them, my mother mentions how nice it was to see her sister and mother again. Yet she was sad they didn’t get to spend time with the girls. She’s also sad her other sister and two of her brothers had to stay in Los Angeles to take care of the restaurant her father started and her brothers have run since his death a decade ago.
“I looked into it, and as long as you don’t get off the yacht, you could visit with them off the coast of Los Angeles. You can take the plane into Cabo and sail from there. Would that be acceptable?” Manuel asks.
My mother’s smile nearly splits her face in half. “That would be amazing. Thank you. I haven’t seen Javi in years. He’s always busy.”
“My apologies the yacht isn’t new the way I wanted. However, there isn’t a large selection of yachts already built. The time frame for a build is almost three months. While it’s less than ten years old, it was refurbished before it went on sale. The updates were done well enough I thought it was brand new. It will allow for a large number of people, twenty in eight cabins. Another day or two is all that will be necessary for the updates I wanted done. Since I purchased it for your use, any time you want to go for however long, just let Catherine know. She’ll make arrangements from preparing it for occupancy, seeing to it there’s staff on board, and getting your family on board.”
“Thank you. I can’t believe it. I’m going to call my family to see what works best for them.” She’s up from the table, clutching her phone as she speeds out of the room.
Manuel turns his attention back to his cannoli. Since Chef found out my favorite secret sweet are cannoli he’s been making them often, so there are always some available.
“That’s so sweet. Thank you for buying a yacht for my mother to see her family on. I can’t believe you did that.”
An eyebrow goes up. “If you can’t believe it, then I’m doing something wrong. Your mother happy, means you’re happy. Why else would I deal with the stuttering fathers and the simpering mothers in the football team you signed the girls up for?”
I’m going to get used to what we call soccer in America being called football everywhere else in the world, hopefully before the girls’ first game. I can’t help chuckling at his mention of the simpering mothers. His jealousy when it came to other men was a mystery to me—I thought it was more of an ownership thing.
Until I saw women flirt with him and jealousy took a huge bite out of my ass. Violence appealed in the moment. I should have known better. Manuel simply gave the women a single look for them to wilt away from him. Since then, no women has dared to do more than give him eyes while staying far away from him.
Shifting in his chair, he turns his full attention to me. When we came down with the girls earlier, he pressed me down into the chair beside him to his right. A finger goes under my chin, lifting my eyes to his. “Is there something I’m not doing correctly?”
His concern sends a hand into my chest to squeeze my heart so tight it aches. I shake my head. “You are doing more than I ever dreamed. I think that’s the problem. I never allowed myself to dream about this part of life. It was easy to see me being happy with the children.”
