Chapter Twenty-Three

When Amo drove off, I felt as if he’d taken a piece of my heart with him. I held onto a column of the porch, petting Bear’s head who was pressed up to my leg as if he wanted to steady me. Momo sat on the last step, his nose twitching as he smelled the air. I sighed and turned away from the driveway. We hadn’t made a new date to meet again. How long would it take before I saw him again? A few weeks? Months? Longer than that? Even just communicating with our cells would be difficult and risky. I couldn’t put my life on pause until then but it felt a bit like a part of me would lie dormant until we met again. With a sigh, I picked up Dotty from the blanket she rested on and carried her down to her favorite patch of grass in the shade beside the house so she could relieve herself.

My phone and watch buzzed. I peered down. A car had pulled up to the gates. I opened the browser window to check the security cam. A foolish part of me hoped it was Amo but the logic side of my brain told me it was probably just Jill coming back early from her meeting with her father, but when Nevio’s grinning face flashed up on the screen, I froze. He didn’t wait for me to let him in. He had the code to overrule every security lock, just like my father and uncles. The car pulled out of view of the camera. Soon the eerie red glow of the headlights of Nevio’s all black, pimped Dodge Ram came into view. Nevio always had the headlights on, day or night, because the red glow freaked people out, especially because everyone in Vegas knew to whom the car belonged.

The car stopped in front of the porch and Nevio jumped out. My pulse sped up considering what would have happened if Nevio had arrived ten minutes before. He jogged over to me as Alessio and Massimo got out of the car.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised.

Bear growled when Nevio lifted me off the ground. “We’re picking you up.”

I gripped his shoulders, getting dizzy from him spinning me around. When he put me back down, I said, “Jill’s not here yet. I can’t leave.”

Nevio rolled his eyes. “The pigs can entertain themselves for a couple of hours.” He leaned down to sniff at me. “Do you use a new perfume? I don’t like it.”

“I’m not wearing perfume.” My insides cramped. Did I smell like Amo? Alessio regarded me closely while Massimo sank down on a step and lit up a cigarette.

“You have so much medical knowledge and yet you smoke,” I said, hoping to distract Nevio from my scent.

Massimo glanced over his shoulder at me, one dark eyebrow slanting up. “Considering our lifestyle, I’m fairly certain lung cancer or one of the other smoke-related diseases won’t be the cause of my death.”

“Come on, Greta. Let’s get back to the city.”

“We’ll have to take the dogs with us,” I reminded him.

“We can put their transport cages up on the truck bed.”

“But you have to drive carefully.”

Nevio gave me an exasperated look. “Fine.”

I sent Jill a text that I’d be leaving the farm now and when she answered that she was already on her way and would be there in thirty minutes, I began to pack everything.

Fifteen minutes later, we were driving away from the farm. This place had always meant a lot to me, but now that it was also connected to Amo, it became even more special.

“I have a surprise for you,” Nevio said after a while, drumming excitedly on the steering wheel.

I gave him a wary look. That could mean everything and his nervous energy definitely gave reason for worry.

“She’s worried,” Alessio said from the seat on my right.

“As she should be when Nevio is excited about something,” Massimo said from where he lounged on the backseat. I resisted the urge to tell him about his chances of surviving a crash when he wasn’t buckled up. He knew, and would only give me the same answer as with the smoking.

“I was looking for something to cheer you up and one of our contacts gave me a tip about a breeding farm for these handbag dogs.”

“Chihuahuas?”

“Bless you,” said Massimo dryly.

I rolled my eyes at him.

“Whatever,” Nevio said. “We’re heading there now. You’re going to save a few dogs and we’re going to see if we can find some entertainment with the breeders.”

“Why do humans do this?” I whispered with a shake of my head, my heart filling with pity for the poor creature in my arms. We were on our way back from taking about thirty older dogs and forty puppies, some only a few days old, to a retired lady and her husband I had cooperated with in the past. They had a dog sanctuary that kept the dogs for as long as it took to give them a forever home and never put them down unless they had serious health issues that couldn’t be treated. Dad had made it very clear that he wouldn’t tolerate me raising puppies in our mansion and with Dotty, Momo and Bear Dad was already at the edge of his dog tolerance, so I’d only picked one of the Chihuahuas for myself.

Nevio shrugged. “They think it’s cute to give them huge water heads and matchstick legs, and they call me twisted.”

“People want dogs but they don’t want the commitment of walks and conditioning. When these tiny dogs need to pee their owners stuff them in a cat toilet and when they don’t obey they carry them in their purse. It’s convenient,” Massimo said matter-of-factly.

“It’s a dog, not a toy! It’s not meant to be convenient,” I whispered, feeling close to tears. “If they want a pet that doesn’t require walks or conditioning, then they can get a hamster or guineapigs.”

Massimo swayed his head from side to side, disagreeing. “I read an article that hamsters are the most abused pets. People stuff them into the tiniest cages because they’re cheap or give them to their children as toys.”

“The parents are probably glad that the kids torture the hamster instead of bothering them,” Alessio said with a shrug.

My chest tightened as I thought about all the pets everywhere that were mistreated because people saw them as toys or didn’t bother researching their needs.

“And guineapigs and bunnies probably don’t belong in these people’s hands either. Most of them are kept in solitary confinement though they are group animals and people stuff them into cages with bars as flooring so it’s easier to clean. I once saw a medieval prison that was kinder than those cages,” Massimo continued. Nevio parked the car in front of our mansion.

“Stop it,” I gritted out. “Stop it! I don’t want to hear anymore.”

Nevio turned around in his seat and touched my shoulder. “Not talking about it won’t stop it from happening.”

“I know. It’s selfish, but I can’t take it, not when I can’t do anything to stop it from happening.”

“You’re too good for this world, Greta.”

I shook my head. I lowered my head and kissed the dog’s too big head with the bulging eyes, deciding to call it Teacup. I’d do everything in my power to save as many animals as I could and give them a better life. I knew that wouldn’t make up for the wrong I was doing because my heart didn’t leave me another choice, but it made me feel a tiny bit better.

I drove straight to Cressida and my townhouse from the airport. It was our obligatory weekly date night and I was already running late.

Every fiber in my body revolted against the idea of spending time with her today. I unlocked the door and entered the house. I found Cressida in an armchair in the living room, typing on her phone.

“You’re late,” she said reproachfully.

“I’m here.”

She rose to her feet, already dressed in a fancy dress, high heels and expensive jewelry. When she came to a stop in front of me, she scanned my outfit. I’d changed clothes in the airport so I was in a white dress shirt and black pants. “Where’s your ring?” Cressida asked with a frown.

I looked down at my hand. It was bare, except for the fine white line that marked the place where the ring usually was.

I must have left it in Vegas. Damn it. If someone found it there, this would be the end. The wedding date was engraved inside the ring, and every Falcone would put two and two together and go on a vendetta. I had to call Greta as soon as possible and warn her.

“Amo!”

I focused on Cressida. “I must have lost it during the last torture session. I’ll go looking for it when I return to the warehouse.”

Cressida’s mouth pinched. “I don’t want to know what you do for work. It’s distasteful.”

I cocked a brow. “My distastefulness makes sure you always have the newest stuff from Louis Vuitton and Balenciaga.”

Cressida didn’t want to be reminded of my darkness. She wanted to pretend. Our whole marriage was pretend.

“I hope you don’t think I’ll have sex with you when you’re not even wearing your ring.”

“I’m not here for sex,” I said matter-of-factly. “I’m here for our weekly play-pretend date night so people think we actually share some kind of bond.”

Anger flared up in her eyes. I wasn’t sure why this made her angry. It was the fucking truth, we both knew it.

She stepped closer and pressed her palm to my crotch. “You don’t want sex?”

I grasped her wrist. “Let go.”

She laughed as if this was some kind of game. I shoved her hand away. The idea of being intimate with her appalled me. Not because Cressida wasn’t an attractive woman. She was, from a solely physical viewpoint, but I didn’t desire her. And now that I’d been intimate with Greta, I wouldn’t touch another woman.

Fuck. I almost laughed at the irony.

“What man doesn’t want to have sex?”

“I want sex but not with you.”

She smiled harshly. “Then go to your whores. I don’t care. I have everything I desire.”

I gritted my teeth. Rage bubbled right under the surface. But Cressida was a woman and my wife, so I used every ounce of self-control I possessed and reined it in.

“So where are we going for dinner tonight? I hope you made a reservation at this new 3 Michelin star place in the Mandarin Oriental. It’s impossible to get a table if you don’t book at least six weeks in advance and then the slots fill within a minute. I told my friends you could get a table there whenever you want.”

“Of course,” I said. “We have a table from eight to ten.”

“They actually dared to squeeze us into a time slot? And you let them?”

I had actually asked for a slot. They would probably have given me the table for the entire night, even if that meant cancelling three bookings of other people that night. But the idea of spending more than two hours with Cressida, especially in public, when we had to pretend we had something to say to each other was absolutely unbearable. “I have work to do tonight. Two hours is enough for six courses.”

She didn’t say anything but her expression made it clear that she was very unhappy.

“Are you ready to go?” I asked. It was 7:45 and I wanted to get this over with.

Cressida gave me a challenging smile. “You know what? I don’t feel this outfit anymore. I’ll go change. I’m sure they won’t mind if we arrive late. Then they can just give us the table for the rest of the evening.”

“We’re leaving now,” I said in a low voice.

She met my gaze then lowered her eyes quickly and gave a shrug before she stalked past me toward the door. Outside she held out her hand and I took it even if my body revolted against it as I led her to my car, opened the door for her and then took my place behind the steering wheel.

Every second in Cressida’s company felt like my personal version of hell. I felt this even more now that I’d spent the night with Greta, my fucking wish for heaven.

When I drove through the gates of Greta’s animal sanctuary three weeks later, I felt as if I had hibernated and was slowly waking up. I’d been busy with work and only seen Cressida one more time in private after our very stiff date night and one time at dinner with her parents, which had been an even worse experience than being alone with my wife.

My mother had been picking up that something was different and had tried to question me during our weekly family dinner. And Marcella, she was a blood hound on a trail. She knew too much. It was a good thing that Maximus was wrapped up in his own problems or he would probably have joined forces with my sister to figure out what was going on.

I pulled up in front of the farmhouse. Greta was already waiting on the porch, leaning against a pillar. The lamp above her head cast an almost angelic glow on her face. It was already nearing midnight and pitch-black around us, apart from the distant eerie backlight of the city. This Friday had been busy with a meeting with the Corsicans so I hadn’t been able to catch an earlier flight.

I threw open the car door and prowled over to her. She wore a white satin nightgown with her obligatory cowboy boots and a too big checkered shirt thrown hazardously over her shoulders. She looked perfect.

I took all three steps onto the porch at once and lifted her off the ground before I claimed her lips for a desperate kiss. Bear jumped back with a low growl but I didn’t give a fuck.

For a heartbeat Greta tensed before she melted in my embrace. Fuck, how could anything feel this perfect? It didn’t make sense. I held onto her for a little longer, my nose in her hair. “I missed you.”

What a weak thing to say, but this woman…I just couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“I missed you too,” she whispered against my throat before she pressed a gentle kiss to the spot. I let her down to her feet and regarded her face.

“What is it?” She touched her cheek curiously.

“Nothing,” I said roughly. “Let me grab my bag.” I jogged over to the car and grabbed the backpack with everything I needed for the two nights. Greta held out her hand and I grabbed it, letting her lead me inside her house, where she kicked off the boots before we headed toward the kitchen where she’d set up food.

“I made sandwiches and a salad because I thought you might be hungry.” She motioned at the bowl and plate then turned to me.

I cupped her cheek, running my thumb over her soft skin. “I am,” I agreed in a low voice.

She flushed, then bit her lower lip. “For food?”

I chuckled low in my throat. “Maybe later.”

I hooked my thumbs under her shirt and slid it down her arms. It fluttered to the floor. Greta’s nipples hardened under the silky fabric of her nightgown, their outline tantalizing. I leaned down for another kiss. “I want to taste you first. Is that all right?”

Her yes was hardly more than an exhale. Grabbing her waist, I lifted her onto the counter and pushed between her legs. I fused our lips once more and cupped her neck with one hand while my other stroked Greta’s arm and shoulder lightly. Soon goosebumps covered her body and she hooked her legs around my hips, bringing us even closer. I trailed my fingertips over the outside of her thigh. Her fingers on my shoulders tightened, and she pushed against me even harder. I cupped her breast and pulled back from our kiss, leaving Greta’s lips swollen and her face flushed. I lowered my gaze to watch my hand on Greta’s breast. Her nipple became rock harder against my palm as I massaged it through the fabric. I hooked my index finger under the spaghetti strap and dragged it down until a perky nipple came into view. I swiped my thumb over it then wetted the pad and repeated the motion. Greta’s lips parted as she watched my hand the same way I did. I took her little bud between my thumb and forefinger, then twirled it gently back and forth before I began plugging a bit harder. Greta moaned and rocked her hips against mine. I continued my explorations of her pretty breasts for a while, until Greta was panting and my own arousal was very uncomfortable.

I cleared my throat then rasped, “Lift your hips.” She did as I asked and I slid her nightgown down. She wore a white thong this time, a tiny piece of lace that clung to her pussy and was completely soaked. Stroking the insides of her thighs, I really drank in the sight of her, the outline of her slit, the way the string disappeared between two perfectly rounded ass globes, the soft contour of her pubic hair against the lace. It all turned me on like nothing else ever had.

I felt possessive and hungry. I felt as if I might go crazy if I didn’t stake my claim on Greta in every way possible. And I also felt a little unhinged and desperate because this was something I wanted all the time but couldn’t have. Fuck. I wasn’t used to not getting what I want, and it made me want to prove she was mine even more.

“Kneel for me,” I demanded.

She began to lower herself from the counter but I stopped her. Confusion flickered in her eyes.

“On the counter with your ass toward me.”

She bit her lip again and she climbed up on the counter and got on her knees and hands, with her ass pointing teasingly at me.

I swallowed as I regarded the way her string wedged between her pussy lips in this position too.

“Amo?”

“You are too perfect for words.” I touched her ass, my fingertips ghosting over the smooth skin then up her back, over the bumps of her spine then back down again. I slid my thumb under the string of the thong and slowly pulled at it until it slid out between her ass cheeks and pussy lips, drenched as if she’d taken a swim.

“Fuck, Greta. I want nothing more than to make you mine, than to bury myself to the hilt inside of you.”

I hadn’t meant to voice my thoughts like that, but seeing her in this position made me lose control.

Greta tensed then glanced over her shoulder at me, her brows puckered. “Wouldn’t this be a very painful position for a first time?”

“I’m not going to take your virginity today and definitely not like this,” I growled, close to losing my mind entirely. If I ever took Greta’s innocence, which I shouldn’t even consider doing, I’d do it right. With her in my arms, in a cozy bed.

I didn’t allow myself to dwell on the thought.

“Okay,” she said simply. I kissed her left then her right ass cheek before I ran my thumb over the tantalizing crease, groaning at her arousal. My thumb glided under her thong, brushing her swollen folds then her opening. I pulled down her thong to her knees then lightly ran my fingertips over her pussy. I allowed my index finger to circle her opening then dipped only the very tip in. I exhaled at the sight. Shaking my head, I took a step back. “Turn around. I need to see your face.”

Greta elegantly turned until she faced me once more with her legs parted after she’d kicked off her thong as she sat on the kitchen counter. She regarded my face with quiet scrutiny. “Is everything okay?”

I chuckled bitterly and stepped up to her, my hands cupping her face. “Just trying to maintain control,” I murmured before I kissed her.

I could see the questions in her face but I intensified our kiss, distracting her busy mind. Soon Greta stroked my chest through my shirt. She began to open the buttons until she could part my shirt. With her short nails she teased my abs and chest. I gripped her wrists, kissed one then the other palm before I put her hands down on the counter. “Let’s ignore my need for tonight,” I urged. My lust for Greta had accumulated like a thunderous storm cloud over the last few weeks, and today it mingled with frustration and dark hunger, both of which had no place when I was intimate with Greta.

I ran my knuckles down her belly then stroked my index and middle finger along Greta’s pussy. Greta watched with half lidded eyes as I used my two fingers to part her folds so I could massage the sensitive inner part. My fingers glistened with Greta’s need. Soon Greta rocked her hips against my hand, her lips parted, expression tight with passion. I sped up, focusing more attention on her clit. It didn’t take long for Greta to lose herself to her orgasm under my ministrations and my mouth became dry when she threw her head back and moaned deep in her throat. I leaned forward, my lips brushing her skin, then parting. But I stopped myself in the last moment, my teeth already against her throat. I couldn’t mark Greta like that.

I moved back and our gazes locked.

There was so much I wanted to say but couldn’t, wouldn’t.

“More,” Greta begged and I smirked, glad she distracted me from my stupidity. “More?” I asked quietly, my voice tight with arousal. I could probably come in my pants if I really focused. She gave a terse nod and I ran my middle finger over her slit, back and forth. She was so wet. “Greta, I want—”

Before I could tell her, I wanted to put my finger in her, she put her hand on mine and used light pressure. “Amo, I need…I don’t know. I need…”

I knew what she needed. I kissed her gently then rubbed the pad of my middle finger over her opening before I pushed my tip into her.

She exhaled, her brows dipping as she looked down her body to where my fingertip was sliding in and out of her channel.

I was mesmerized as I worked my finger slowly deeper into Greta’s tight opening. In and out, coating it with her lust. My tip slid in easily then I pushed until my first knuckle before I pulled out again. My finger glistened beautifully as I rubbed Greta’s opening with my pad gently before I delved into her once more, this time until my second knuckle. Greta’s pussy clenched around me and I looked up for the first time since I’d started fingering her to check her expression. She too was looking down at my finger inside of her, but a subtle tension dominated her mouth.

“Is it too uncomfortable?” I asked in a low voice, my finger still sliding in and out slowly.

“It’s the good kind of discomfort.”

I released a harsh breath and claimed her lips once more as I drove my middle finger all the way into her. She gasped against my mouth, her pussy clenching, her eyelids fluttered. I curled my finger, my thump pressing against her clit and the tension left her body with a strong shudder and a loud moan as she came around me. My balls jerked. I hadn’t expected her to come this quickly and it was like fuel for my already burning desire for her. She kissed me desperately, her hips rocking as I kept fingering her through her orgasm. Her arousal dripped down my finger and palm. I kept my finger inside of her possessively as we kissed and I rubbed her neck gently. Greta’s cheeks were rosy and her eyes filled with a longing I understood too well.

“Now you,” she said firmly. I didn’t argue as she opened my fly and pushed down my pants and underwear. My cock sprang free, my tip coated with pre-cum.

“Do you want me to—”

“Use your hands,” I gritted out. I was teetering on the edge of control. If I fucked Greta’s mouth today, I’d probably lose my mind and fuck her pussy too, or spill my cum the second her lips touched my cock because I was so fucking horny.