Chapter 49 RóISE

Miceli waits to pull out his asshole routine until after we've had sex twice more.

Once with him pounding my vagina into submission and another in the shower, where he rubs us both off with his hardon pressed against my clit and my legs wrapped tightly around him.

I finish pulling my jeans on over my naked nether regions. I have a feeling riding back to Long Island on the back of Miceli's bike is going to be a whole new experience for me.

"I trust you won't be going to your uncle and asking for a different groom again." Miceli slips into his black leather jacket and his stoic underboss persona all in one go.

"He told you about that?" I ask, feeling kind of bad. "You never said anything."

"Neither did you."

"Because Uncle Brogan refused to even consider it."

"You want to marry someone else? Another De Luca? Maybe you've seen my cousin and you think he's more your style. Or you think the wife of a capo can be a movie star."

"Uh, I don't even know who you are talking about. And I'm wearing your ring, so I don't know why we're talking about it either."

"I'm just confirming that this time, you're going to follow through on your promise."

"I'm not the one who tried to back out of their promise," I deny hotly.

Man, when he goes for jerk status, he goes all in.

"Then we're in agreement. "

"Yes."

"You are going to marry me at the end of September."

"Yes!"

"Good."

"If you're looking to win the award for least romantic proposal ever, you've got it in the bag," I snark.

"We're not a romance."

"You can say that again."

The ride home on the back of his bike is pure torture. In more than one way.

I limp inside the mansion without saying goodbye.

For a little while there, when he was sharing his secrets and making love to me like I mattered to him, I thought maybe it's okay to fall in love with my convenient fiancée.

But all of that was just to convince me to go ahead with the early wedding.

That sex wasn't making love. It was about getting my compliance.

Angry and not ready to see anyone else, I sneak into the morning room. It's a small room with big windows that my mom used to love. Hardly anybody uses it anymore. Except me.

Already angry with Miceli, when I remember my questions about how he cleared the way for me to return to college, I call him.

Maybe he'll answer my call and crash doing it. Cold dread washes over me and my knees buckle.

I'm about to press end call when I hear his voice. "What?"

"Are you still riding your motorcycle?"

"It would be a miracle if I wasn't. I'm not even off the island yet."

"You should not answer the phone when you are driving, but especially riding a bike."

"Then why did you call?"

"I'm hanging up now," I say instead of answering.

"Relax. I have a speaker and mic in my helmet. What do you want, Róise?"

"The dean called me himself on Tuesday and asked me to come back to classes. Did you bribe him?" I demand.

"You said you didn't want the college to benefit from your pain," he says almost patiently.

"I don't." I shift on the comfy sofa, so I'm sitting on my hip, not my butt.

That's better.

"I used a stick, not a carrot."

"You threatened him?" I ask, not sure how I feel about that .

Okay, I am sure. I like it. And that makes me what? Not the woman I thought I was, that's for sure.

"Not with violence but something far worse. Losing their federal accreditation."

"You could do that?" This should not turn me on.

Especially after his asshole behavior before bringing me home. And also, I should be sickened by the threat.

I'm not. If I was wearing panties, they'd be getting damp.

"I am a Cosa Nostra underboss."

Which says it all, I guess. "Well, thank you," I say grudgingly. "If I had to miss the last week of school, I would have been really bummed."

I've only got a year of anything resembling normal life left before that word won't even have a passing acquaintance with my life.