Mafiosa

‘Yes.’ He spun me into the alcove halfway down the hall, his hand pressing against the small of my back, the other grabbing the back of my head. He crushed his lips to mine and I opened my mouth to let him in, and when his tongue brushed against mine, I could taste his need as keenly as my own. He ran his fingers through my hair, pulling me tighter against him. I wound my hands around his neck, ignoring the flicker of pain in my shoulder and pushing up on to my tiptoes so I could taste every part of him, so I could feel how much he wanted me.

He pulled back, panting, his fingers tracing my lips as he caught his breath. Our foreheads were pressed together. I smiled beneath his touch and he kissed the corner of my mouth.

‘More,’ I whispered.

A groan caught in his throat. ‘More,’ he said, pressing his lips to mine. The entire concept of time was obliterated as we stood moulded to each other inside that alcove, kissing and gasping for breath. I forgot where I was, and with every press of his tongue on mine, the darkness inside me seemed to shatter, just a little.

After what seemed like an eternity, but not nearly long enough, I pulled my lips from his. I touched my nose against him. ‘See what happens when you don’t overthink?’ I said softly, my fingertips still lost in his hair.

He moved his palm against my neck, his thumb caressing the sensitive spot behind my ear. ‘I could do this for ever,’ he murmured. He pressed his lips against mine, warm and lingering, before drawing back again to look at me. ‘I can barely remember my own name.’

I smiled against him. ‘We should probably go before someone finds us.’

‘You’re right,’ he said, kissing me again. ‘But you taste so good.’

‘And you smell amazing.’ The truth was I never wanted to move from that alcove. The bubble we were in was perfect – it was full of fire and adrenalin and giddy joy.

‘Just six more,’ he said, smiling as he kissed me several more times in quick succession.

I could not take my hands off him. It’s like we had started something that neither of us could pull away from. Self-control be damned – I couldn’t remember a time when I had had any.

‘Three more,’ I said, pulling him against me again. He yielded willingly, laughing as he opened his mouth to mine.

When the shout shattered the silence, I thought someone had been shot, or at the very least that the person who’d shouted wasn’t standing so impossibly close to us. I reeled backwards, a gasp sticking in my throat, as Luca spun around. The blow landed against his right cheek and he slammed backwards, his head smashing against the wall.

Nic grabbed Luca by the collar and yanked him out of the alcove, his shouts turning to a violent string of curses as he launched himself at his brother. I shot out after them, almost crashing into Dom and Gino who had been following behind Nic. Their coats were still fastened and they were staring bug-eyed at their brothers, bewilderment screwing up their faces. They had all come home together, and Luca and I had been so wrapped up in each other that we hadn’t heard a thing.

Luca ducked out of Nic’s next punch and backed into the foyer, his hands raised at his brother. ‘Calm down, Nicoli.’

Nic charged at him like a bull, slamming into Luca’s torso and carrying them both against the far bannister. Gino, Dom and I followed them, their shouts joining with mine. Valentino was in the foyer. He was still wearing his coat, but his face was twisted up in horror as he took in the scene.

Nic lunged at Luca again, but missed, his fist cracking into the wall. His scream was primal.

‘Stop them!’ I yelled at Valentino. ‘Make them stop!’

‘I can’t,’ he said, exasperated. ‘Look at them.’

I turned to Dom and Gino. ‘Break them up, before one of them gets seriously hurt.’

‘What the hell happened?’ asked Dom. ‘What’s going on?’

Felice came in through the front door, slamming it behind him. He was wearing a purple scarf, the collar of his black trench coat flicked upwards. He stopped mid-stride, his mouth agape, as Luca kicked Nic in the back of his knee, momentarily immobilizing him.

Nic fell to the ground, grabbing at Luca’s ankle. Luca lost his footing and collapsed on to Nic, and they began brawling again.

‘Dom,’ I said, tugging him by the arm. ‘Please. Break them up.’

‘What’s it about?’ he said, circling the huddle. ‘I need to know whose side I’m on first.’

Crap. I didn’t want him to jump in against Luca too. And he would if he knew why Nic was so angry.

Valentino fired his gun in the air.

The resounding crack shocked everyone into stillness.

Luca and Nic fell apart from each other.

‘My ceiling!’ Felice shrieked.

‘Have you lost your mind, Valentino?’

‘Calmati,’ Valentino cautioned. ‘It was getting out of hand.’

Felice was examining the new hole in his ceiling. He looked like he was about to cry.

Valentino was examining Luca and Nic. The boys hadn’t done any real damage to one another … yet. Luca’s lip was bleeding. Nic’s chin was turning a vicious shade of purple.

‘It’s over,’ Valentino told them. ‘Whatever it is, it’s over.’

Luca raised his hands. ‘Sorry,’ he said, looking genuinely ashamed of himself.

‘No!’ Nic hissed, snapping out of his sudden stillness. He whirled around, his finger jabbing at Luca’s chest. ‘Ti dovrei fare a pezzi, traditore!’