I sat on the couch in the living room with a glass of wine in my hand. My mom rubbed my back and consoled me, handing me tissues so I could wipe away the tears and fix my makeup.

I wasn’t the kind of person that cried, but seeing Bones in that much pain killed me inside.

It killed me that we would never overcome this.

He would always be an outsider. He would never be part of my family.

The worst part was, I didn’t blame him.

My father came back inside, whispered something to my mother, and then took the seat beside me when she left. It was just the two of us in the large living room with the vaulted ceilings and the fireplace. It was the same room where we put up our Christmas tree, where we opened gifts on Christmas morning.

Something Bones would never experience.

My father sat beside me, his knee almost touching mine.

I didn’t ask how his conversation went. Based on Bones’s hostility, he wouldn’t listen to anyone, not even me.

“Tesoro.” He placed his hand on my back, resting it between my shoulder blades. “I’ll find a way to make this work.” He peered into my face, his cologne surrounding me. He held a glass of scotch in his hand and placed it on the table.

“I’m sorry…about all of this.” I stared at the coffee table, avoiding my father’s look of pity.

“You don’t need to apologize, tesoro.”

“He didn’t mean to be rude and ruin dinner. He’s just—”

“Really, it’s fine. I understand. This is hard for him…I don’t blame him.” He lowered his hand from my back and rested it on his thigh. His black wedding ring sat on his left hand, where it remained always. I’d never seen him without it, not when he worked or when he was in the pool.

“I know you wanted me to be with someone who could be a son to you… I don’t think that’s possible with Griffin.”

“Vanessa, that doesn’t matter.” He rested his hand on mine. “He’s the man you want, and we’ll make this work. I don’t care how difficult or complicated he is. You love him…so we love him.”

I turned my gaze on my father, my eyes soft. “Thank you…that means a lot to me.”

He squeezed my hand before he pulled away.

“He never told me what you guys talked about last week. He said a few things…but not much.”

He gave a slight nod. “He’s a man of few words.”

“What did you talk about?”

He shrugged. “In a nutshell…he doesn’t like me.”

I sighed in disappointment, but I wasn’t surprised.

He rubbed his palms together, his callused skin chafing together. His eyes were on his movements. “I didn’t realize this until your mother pointed it out to me, and now that I’ve spent some alone time with him, it’s all I can see. All he’s ever wanted is somewhere he belongs…a family. He doesn’t have anyone but you, and when I took you away, it was like losing his mom all over again. Your absence hurt him…but I was the one who killed him. I’m not better than the man who murdered his mother. He resents me for the power I have over him. And he’s hurt by the things I said about his mother. He’s a powerful man who’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself and you…but he needs more. He needs a family.”

I nodded, knowing he was right. “He’s always resented me for everything that I have, for the beautiful childhood home and the wonderful family that loves me. He says that life should have been his…but you took it away from him.”

“And then I did it again…when I took you away.” He kept staring at his hands. “I’m trying to make this right, tesoro. I’m trying to connect with him, to move forward on a different foot. I’ve never apologized for protecting you. I still stand by my decision. But I want things to be different as we move into the future. But he’s not willing to meet me halfway, not anymore.”

“He’s very stubborn…” He was the most stubborn man I’d ever known.

“And angry.”

“Yes…that too.”

“It would be easy for me to let it go. Griffin has said that’s what he wants, to put on a show for you and pretend everything is fine. We can pretend to like each other when we see each other, but we don’t need to stand in the same room together longer than we have to. That would save me time and work. But after what he did for us…I can’t settle for that kind of relationship. He didn’t have to join the fight and save all of us. He could have easily looked the other way and let us all die…and then took you when we were gone.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes still on the table. “So I have to make this right.”

I moved my hand to his shoulder and rubbed my palm across the cotton of his shirt. “Thank you…I want him to be part of us. I want him to be happy.”

“Me too, tesoro. So I need you to help me.”

“How?”

“You need to ask him to meet me halfway. You need to ask him to come to the winery three days a week. We’ll work together, spend time together, and maybe in time, some kind of relationship will form.”

I had a lot of power over Griffin, the power to make him do almost anything. He was ruthless and bossy, but I could get my way if I asked for it.

“He wouldn’t agree when I asked. But he will if you do.” He turned back to me, his hands coming together.

It would be the easiest solution to the problem. Even if Griffin didn’t want to do it, he would do it because I asked. He loved me, would give me the world if I asked for it. “As much as I want to do that…I can’t.”

His eyebrows furrowed.

“He’s done so much for me. He told me he needed time, and I can’t rush him. After everything he’s done for me, how loyal he’s been to me, I can’t ask him to keep trying. I understand his pain. I understand his anger. It would be selfish of me to ask for anything more. I’m sorry…but I can’t.” I’d asked him to try to win my family over in the beginning, and he put up with my father’s and uncle’s bullshit every single day. He handed a loaded weapon to his enemy while he agreed to be chained to a chair. He worked at the winery every day, moving heavy crates and being insulted at the same time, just for a little bit of my father’s attention. And then he took a bullet for my father…almost died because of it. “You have to do this on your own. I can’t choose sides. I have to respect what he wants. I won’t use my power over him, even if I could get what I want.”

My father didn’t hide his disappointment, but he didn’t argue with me either. “I understand, tesoro.”

I wrapped my arm through his and rested my cheek against his shoulder. “Please don’t stop trying. I know you—you can do anything. If anyone can make this happen, it’s you.” I wanted my father and Bones to get along. I wanted them to like each other, to trust each other. I wanted us all to be one family…more than anything else.

“In most respects, that’s true,” he whispered. “But I’ve never been in this kind of situation before. You know I’m not good with words. Even having deep conversations with your mother is a challenge for me.”

“I know you can do it, Father.”

“You have a high opinion of me…”

“Yes. But I also know how much you love me…and you’ll do anything to make me happy.”

He sighed before he looked at me, his eyes soft in a special way. It was a look he only gave me, his only daughter. I had a special hold on his heart, a grip that even my mother didn’t have. “Yes…anything.”

Father drove me home and parked on the street. Despite my insistence that I could make it inside on my own, he walked me up the stairs to the door.

“Thanks for driving me back.”

“I didn’t mind in the least.” He pulled me into his chest and hugged me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Good night.”

“Good night, Father.”

He gave me another soft look before he walked down the stairs and got into his car. He waited there, not turning on the engine until he saw me go into my apartment.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

I set my purse on the entryway table and walked into the living room. It was almost ten o’clock, the time we usually went to bed. The TV was off, and Bones lay on the couch, wearing nothing but his boxers. The size of a horse, he took up every inch of the cushions, his feet dangling over the edge. He’d taken a few pillows from the bedroom and rested on them now.

I stopped near the coffee table, spotting the open bottle of scotch and the empty glass beside it. There were a few drops at the bottom of the glass, amber liquid from the alcohol he’d downed for the last few hours.

I knew he wasn’t asleep, so I stood there and waited for him to say something.

He kept looking at the ceiling, comfortable with the never-ending silence.

I walked to the couch and stood over him, seeing all his muscles and tattoos. When I looked down into his face, I saw his eyes meet mine in the darkness. Light from the streetlamp outside flooded the apartment, casting shadows in the corners.

He held my gaze, his look unresponsive. He was far too stubborn to utter a single word.

So I folded. “What are you doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“You look wide awake to me.”

“Well, this couch isn’t made for a man like me.”

“Then why aren’t you sleeping in the bedroom?” I assumed he’d drunk until he passed out in front of the TV. But now that I noticed the pillows and his sobriety, I knew this choice had been purposeful.

“Isn’t this what couples do? The man does something wrong, so he gets stuck on the couch?” He sat up then ran his hand through his hair, his eyes sleepy even though he hadn’t slept for even a minute. His hair was messy from fingering it for the last few hours. He leaned back against the couch, a man comprised of endless power. He glanced at the bottle of scotch on the table but didn’t pour himself another glass. He stared straight ahead, not looking at me.

I stared at his hard outline, from the broad shape of his shoulders to his enormous chest. He was a beast more than a man, his tattoos only heightening his intimidating presence. The black ink hid some of his beautiful skin, but it also hid the battle scars he’d been carrying for the last ten years. His jawline was hard, casting a shadow down his neck from the gentle light coming through the window. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, so his beard was starting to get thick. His blue eyes were the only gentle feature he possessed. The rest of him was all man.

I gripped his shoulder then straddled his hips, sitting on him as he leaned against the couch. My arms hooked around his neck, and I looked him in the eye, seeing him slowly soften now that I was on top of him.

He glanced at my lips before he looked me in the eye. His hands automatically moved to my waist, his fingers sliding underneath my shirt so he could feel my soft skin with his fingertips.

I pressed my mouth to his and gave him a soft kiss, just our lips touching together. It was long, our breaths coming in deeper the second we touched. I felt the same electric shock as I did when he was inside me. A simple touch from this man was all I needed. I pulled away and looked into his eyes. “For as long as we live, you’re never sleeping on this couch.” I pulled my shirt over my head then unclasped my bra. The bra fell to the cushion, revealing my bare tits.

His eyes moved to my rack, the arousal instantly coming into his gaze. Within the snap of a finger, his cock hardened underneath my shorts, pressing right against my clit. His fingers dug into me tighter before he moved his face into my neck. Like an animal, he kissed me hard, dragging his lips against my warm skin as he rose from the couch and carried me with him. “Baby.” His mouth moved over mine, and he crushed me with his embrace, whisking me down the hallway and into our bedroom. “I love you so damn much.”

The following day, I got up early and headed to the gallery. I hadn’t been working much over the last few weeks. Sometimes my gallery wasn’t open for days at a time. I purposely left the front door wide open, that way pedestrians would know I was open for business.

I had a pile of emails to catch up on. My regular clients were inquiring about new work, especially after recommending me to their friends and family. I took several photos of the artwork I had in stock, uploaded it, and sent it to each client I thought would like it. It took up most of the morning, and by the time I finished up, it was past noon.

I hadn’t even gotten to paint.

Heavy footsteps sounded from the entryway, and I looked up to see Bones walk in. In jeans and a t-shirt that fit snugly over his chest and arms, he was a behemoth of a man. He was so hard in comparison to the softness of my artwork. His eyes scanned the pictures as he stepped inside, every footstep a loud echo because of his immense weight.

Then he turned his gaze on me.

And just like that, everything stopped. No man had ever looked at me the way he did, to make my lungs stop needing air, to make my heart stop needing blood. He was all I ever needed.

I rose from behind the white desk. This was the first time he’d ever been in my space, at least with me at the same time. I’d left the apartment early that morning, so I hadn’t shared our regular routine of me eating cereal while he worked on his laptop. “Hey.”

He didn’t speak, regarding me with his stare instead of with words.

I came around the desk and moved into his chest. I rose on my tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth.

He kissed me back, gripping the deep curve in my back with his large hands. “Baby.”

My hands slid down his chest as I pulled away, loving the way he called me that. No other man could pull it off the way he did.

He dropped his hands then took a look around the gallery, examining my pieces with obvious interest. He stopped in front of each one, taking his time as he took in the colors and lines.

I stared at his back, watching the strength of his body as he moved. Dinner at my parents’ place had been terrible, and we hadn’t spoken of that incident since yesterday. I came home, and we went straight to bed.

There might not be much to say anyway.

My father told me he wouldn’t give up, that he would keep trying until he and Bones could have a new start. All I wanted was for everyone I loved to be under one roof. I wanted Bones to spend time with my brother and father, to become another Barsetti with a different last name. I wanted him to see my father as a father figure, and if not that, at least a friend. But those things took time. And with Bones, it would take a very long time.

He finished looking at the paintings before he came back toward me. “I like them.”

“Thanks.”

His hand moved to the back of my neck, and he kissed me on the forehead.

I closed my eyes, treasuring his affection. I could never get enough of it, get enough love from this man.

“I’ll let you get back to work. Just wanted to see you for a bit.”

“What are you doing?” My hands moved up and down his muscular arms.

“Just working on a few things.”

I knew he would be leaving for a hit soon. Whenever he worked on his laptop, it meant he was doing research. His departure was usually shortly after that. I was dreading it, dreading it before he even mentioned it. I had to remind myself it would be over soon, that he would be retiring to live a quiet life with me. He would marry me and start a family with me. I would love to have a son who looked like him to inherit those pretty blue eyes and his natural power. “Alright.”

He gripped my chin and lifted my gaze. He looked at me, reading my emotions, and then kissed me on the mouth. “Love you.”

“Love you.”

He released me then walked out.

I stared at his powerful frame as he left, following him with my eyes until he walked past the windows and disappeared from sight.

We didn’t even get through dinner before he threw me on the table and made love to me. He knocked over my wineglass, and it shattered on the hardwood floor. The bottle rolled across the table and met the same fate, but that didn’t stop him from thrusting inside me, his hand deep in my hair and his gaze possessive.

I didn’t give a damn about the mess.

He came inside me then carried me into our bedroom, ignoring the dirty plates and spilled wine that we would worry about in the morning. We got into bed, side by side, with our faces together. My leg was hooked over his hip, and his large hand gripped the back of my thigh. He’d shaved that morning, so his face was clean. I could see his hard jaw better, study the prominent line that separated his chin from his neck.

I could feel his come inside me, feel the hefty weight and warmth. At any given time, I had his essence inside me. When I was at work, I could feel it. When I slept at night, I could feel it. Only rare times in the middle of the day did I not feel it.

He watched me, his chest still sweaty from the way he took me earlier. His eyes were on me like that last session hadn’t been enough. He always seemed to want me, no matter many times he took me. This lifetime wasn’t enough. A thousand lifetimes wouldn’t be enough.

My fingers moved over his chest, sliding across the sweat and the muscles. His black ink was vibrant in contrast to his fair skin. I was dark in comparison, my Italian blood giving me an exotic appearance. My fingers rubbed over the black ink, touching a date he had inked along his ribs. “What does this mean?” I never asked him about his tattoos. I studied them every time we were in bed together, staring at the different artwork that formed a fresco over his body. He never used colored ink, always sticking to black. There was a skull in one place, a snake on the other side of his stomach, a gravestone above his heart. Images were separated by vague symbols. I wondered if every single image meant something to him, or if the only purpose was to hide his broken skin underneath.

He didn’t look at my hand to see what I was pointing at. “The day my mother was killed.”

My fingers trembled against his skin, the jolt of pain slamming in my heart. “Christmas Eve.”

“Yes.”

My fingers moved over his heart, feeling the steady beat. “I’m sorry, Griffin.”

His eyes shifted back and forth slightly as he looked at me. He studied me with the same intensity he always regarded me with, claiming me and watching me at the exact same time. “I know, baby. She was a good woman.”

“Yes, she was. What do you remember about her?”

He paused as he considered my question. “Not a lot. I vaguely remember the way she smelled, the way she would whisper when she was truly angry. I remember the way she made me feel…like I was loved, no matter what. When I became an adult, I learned more about my parents. My mother didn’t love my father. She was a concubine he’d claimed as his own. He knocked her up, but he had no idea she was ever pregnant. My mother loved me anyway, didn’t care that I was the result of a horrible night. We lost everything, but that didn’t make her give up. She kept going…doing the best she could. I would do anything to have her here now, to take care of her so she would never have to worry about anything ever again.”

My heart throbbed once more, hearing the regret in his voice. “She’d be proud of you.”

“Proud of what exactly?” he whispered. “I kill people for a living.”

“You never cared that she was a prostitute. Why would she care that you kill people?”

He watched me, silent.

“She’d be proud of you because of what you just said to me…that you wish you could take care of her. You take care of me. You love me with everything that you have. I sleep well at night because you’re beside me. I’ve never needed a man for anything, but I need you for everything.” I moved my face into his chest and kissed the skin over his heart, feeling his heart pound against my mouth. When I pulled away, he was still looking at me, his eyes even more focused than before.

“There’s nothing that turns me on more than hearing you say that.”

“That I need you?” I whispered, my fingers moving down his hard stomach.

“Yes.”

“I mean it.” I kissed his heart again. “I’ll always mean it.”

His hand slid up my thigh until he reached my ass. He gave it a firm squeeze. “Baby.” He pressed his face into mine and kissed me, a hot kiss with tongue, passion, and heavy breaths. He pulled my bottom lip into his mouth and gave it a gentle nibble before he released it. “I’ll always make you need me.”

“Good…because I like it.” I’d spent three months without him, and I’d needed him every single second we were apart. He was my happiness, all my joy. My hand moved to his shoulder, feeling the tight muscles that shifted under my touch. “You’ve never told me about your tattoos.”

“Because there’s nothing to tell.”

“I disagree. Which one was your first?”

He pointed to his right side, indicating the skull.

“And you’ve been getting them ever since?” I hadn’t seen him get new sink since we’d been together. His ink was smeared in places where he’d been shot, from when I’d put a bullet in him as well as the one meant for my father. He would have to touch those up eventually.

“Yes.”

“Are they just to cover your wounds? Because you have them all over the place.”

“I got most of them in my early twenties. I had nothing else better to do.”

“So, they don’t mean anything to you?”

“Some do. Some don’t.” His hand trailed over my hips until he cupped my right tit. “I think you’d look sexy with some ink.” He moved to my right hip. “Right here.” He dragged the backs of his fingers over the skin, his eyes following his movements.

“And what should I put there?”

He shrugged.

“Let me guess…you name?”

He didn’t crack a smile at my comment. “I don’t need to brand you with my name to prove you’re mine. Any idiot with eyes can see that you’re my woman. Because my eyes are always on you, and your eyes are always on me.”

It was true. Anytime I went out in public, men never hit on me. Bones always lingered in the background, acting as the strongest bug repellent a girl ever needed. I didn’t even need to wear a large diamond ring to keep the gnats away.

“A man brands his woman in the bedroom. A man doesn’t need to hold her hand or wrap his arm around her waist in public, not when his come is sitting inside her at all times. You never forget you belong to me, not when you can always feel me between your legs.” His hand moved down my stomach until he reached the apex of my thighs. He played with my clit a little bit before his fingers moved inside my slit, feeling his come sitting at the entrance. He kept his eyes locked on me, his possessive gaze burning into my skin. “You like feeling me between your legs. It helps you sleep at night.”

“Yes.” I loved his come. I’d never let a man come inside me before. I always used condoms. He had the first honor, and I was glad I’d waited until I met him. “But I think I need some more…”

His fingers froze against my entrance, his own come on the tips of his fingers. He stilled as he looked at me, his nostrils flaring slightly in arousal. There was nothing he liked more than listening to me ask him for more sex. He thrived on it. “I want you to do something for me first.”

“Yes?”

He grabbed my hand and placed it against my clit. “You fucked yourself when I was gone?”

For the first month, I was too depressed to feel aroused, but as time passed, my pussy ached for the sex I used to get on a daily basis. “Yes.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and refused to be ashamed of it. A woman was just as sexual as a man. I needed sex as much as he did. After the explosive and passionate relationship we had, I couldn’t get by on nothing.

“You thought of me.” He didn’t ask it as a question, already knowing what my answer would be.

“Always.”

“Show me.”

“No.” I kept my fingers between my legs but didn’t rub my clit. “I don’t want to pretend, not when I can have the real thing.”

He repeated the command. “Show me and I’ll show you.”

I pictured him touching himself, and my skin immediately flared with heat. With his big hand and big dick, it’d be sexy to watch the vein in his neck pop while he pleased himself, watch his breathing pick up as his balls tightened against his body. “Okay.” I turned on my back and let my knees fall apart before I rubbed my fingers against my clit in a circular motion. I could feel his come inside still, so touching myself immediately made me moan.

He licked his palm before he circled his fingers around his length. Then he started to jerk himself hard, moving from his head to his balls.

I watched him, seeing the fluid ooze from the top of his head. My fingers worked my clit harder, and my back arched with the pleasure. My hard nipples pointed to the ceiling, and I pulled my knees against my waist, widening my legs as I imagined his cock moving inside me.

He jerked himself harder, his breathing filling the quietness of the room.

“Griffin…” I wasn’t going to last much longer like this, not watching him jerk himself off. Everything he did was sexy, but watching him touch himself was even sexier. “I’m gonna come. But I wanna come around your dick instead.”

He moved on top of me immediately, shoving his fat dick into my soaking pussy. “Fuck.” He pinned his arms behind my knees and thrust hard, his balls tapping against my ass. After a few pumps, he brought me to a climax.

“Yes…” My toes curled, and I dragged my nails down his back. “Now give it to me.” I loved having an orgasm when I felt him throb inside me at the same time. I loved taking his come as I rode my high, feeling his seed fill my entire cavity.

He came right on cue, filling me up with his come. He claimed me just the way he vowed to, by stuffing me with so much come that I always felt him inside me. When I went about my day, I always pitied the young women I came across, knowing they didn’t have what I had. They didn’t have a powerful man fucking them like it was the first time, every time. Bones always took me like it was a new experience, one he couldn’t get enough of. I always felt like the sexiest woman he’d ever seen, like there was no other woman in the world he’d rather be with.

He spoke against my ear when he was finished. “Is that enough come, baby?” He started to soften inside me, but I was still stretched apart because of the size of his dick. There was plenty of come inside me, plenty of his seed that would last through the night.

I gripped his shoulders and locked my ankles around his waist. “No. Not even close.”