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“Maybe,” I say, feeling uncommonly shy when he talks like this and hiding my face in his neck. “But I think you like fucking me hard and rough,” I respond.
“Maybe,” he answers, and then he buries his face into my neck, breathing me in.
I hold him happily and it’s easy for me to drift off when he’s in my arms like this.
18
NICO
Iknow that I have to talk to someone about Aurora and the baby, that it’s driving me crazy not to have anyone know about it, not to talk to someone.
It’s not really like I can call my sister, and it’s not like we’ve ever talked about this kind of thing, so I call Dante.
“What’s wrong?” he answers, and I curse myself.
I haven’t really talked to him since Jimmy came around, and I haven’t updated him much, either.
“Nothing. Sorry,capo,” I mumble. “Just wanted to talk to you.”
“What’s going on?” Dante asks.
I groan and sigh at the same time. “It’s a long story.”
“It sounds like you’re worried sick about something.” He pauses. “Does this have something to do with Aurora?”
“You could say that,” I say, looking back toward the closed door. Aurora is still sleeping and I’m standing out in the hallway.
“Let’s meet up,” Dante suggests, and I frown.
“I can’t leave Aurora alone.”
“I didn’t say you’d be leaving her alone. I’ll send Alberto, and you can meet me at that shitty diner upstate, what’s it called?”
“Marie’s,” I say, laughing. We’d once had the worst pecan pie there.
“Marie’s,” he agrees. “They at least have good coffee.”
“The coffee is just okay and you know it,” I joke, and Dante laughs.
“See you in an hour.”
I walk back inside, and Aurora is sitting up on the bed, rubbing at her eyes.
She smiles and tries to grab me and pull me back into bed.
“Sorry,principessa.Have to meet up with Dante,” I say gently, and Aurora looks up at me.
“Did he find Marco?”
I shake my head. “No, nothing like that. It’s just other business,” I lie. “But one of his men is going to come here. He doesn’t talk much but he’ll keep you safe.”
Aurora nods. “Guess I should put some clothes on, then,” she says with a grin and I frown at her.
“Yeah, you better,” I grumble, and throw one of my T-shirts at her. She puts it on with a laugh and slides on a pair of cut-offs.
Alberto arrives in his own car, a little sportscar that he’d gotten as a present from Dante.
He gets out, wearing a pair of sunglasses, and meets me with a smile.
