“Five more,” Victoria said.
Enric gritted his teeth, a sneer working its way over his roughened features. “Woman, you’re enjoying this too much. I can see it written all over your face.”
“Three, two, one,” Mac’s sister counted down, a sardonic smile curving her lips. “All done.”
Enric let the tension bands go with a heavy exhale. Neither of the two had seen Mac enter the rehab clinic, so he chose to stay back and watch their interactions while he had the chance. Call it his intuition, but he was pretty damn sure that he was witnessing the beginning of something happening with those two.
What, exactly?
He wasn’t quite sure.
But there was something about Victoria that prickled at Enric. And there was something about Enric that really rattled Victoria’s chains.
That kind of shit could make waves.
Mac leaned against the wall, waiting to see what his sister or Enric might do next. In the rehab clinic, probably nothing inappropriate that might cost Victoria her job, but he still wondered … His mother had always told him that spying only led to trouble, but this was too good to pass up.
Victoria bent down, staring at Enric at eye-level. “Every single time you get put on my rotation, you won’t work your legs. Not on the weights, resistance, or even simple exercises.”
“So what?” Enric asked.
“That routine is just as important—more so, Enric—than what you will do with me. You need to keep it up.”
“Not with you, Vickie.”
Victoria glanced up at the ceiling. “You’re being ridiculous because of pride.”
Mac couldn’t help but notice how his sister didn’t react negatively to a nickname she had previously despised.
“Let me keep what I’ve got, woman,” Enric said.
“Don’t you get it?” Victoria asked sharply. “You’ll get a lot more than just pride from this, Enric.”
Enric looked like he didn’t believe a single word that was coming out of her mouth. “Prove it.”
Mac almost smiled at the glimmer of determination in his sister’s eye. Victoria was predictable in that way, and she certainly wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. Maybe it was a Maccari thing—something bred into their DNA that made them too damn stubborn for their own good.
Enric had just gained someone else on his team, whether he wanted Victoria there or not.
And … should something come of that, Mac wouldn’t be surprised, either.
Waves, after all.
Mac waited as Victoria said her goodbyes to Enric and then headed towards the front station with a clipboard in hand. Another girl in scrubs came to ask Enric if he needed help getting cleaned up to leave, but he refused, opting to head towards the locker room on his own.
A good twenty minutes later, Enric rolled back out of the locker room with his bag in his lap, and Mac finally decided to make his presence known since he was the man’s ride. Enric noticed him approaching immediately, and pushed his wheelchair in Mac’s direction.
The young nurse from earlier approached with a file in hand, probably the usual signoff and paperwork for his doctor. Enric snatched the folder and said, “Thanks, now scram.”
The nurse did, not saying a word as she went.
Apparently, his bad attitude must have been well-known amongst the nurses.
“Could you at least smile at them while you’re acting like a spoiled fucker?” Mac asked. “I mean, you are going to be coming here for a while. Don’t shit where you eat and all that.”
Enric scoffed. “Little late for that.”
Interesting.
Mac wasn’t going to push it, though. Besides, he was going to be stuck in a vehicle with Enric for a couple of hours. No need to get the guy in an even worse mood.
“You done?” Mac asked.
“Yep.”
“Great. Let’s get out of here and hit the road.”
Enric was already wheeling himself towards the exit doors before Mac had even finished speaking.
An hour and a half later, and the prison housing was finally in sight. Enric hadn’t said a single word for the entire drive, instead opting to stare out the window. Mac didn’t mind the silence, for the most part, but since their destination was close, it was time to talk.
“Let him worry a little over you today,” Mac said. “Don’t brush him off or make one of your usual snide comments if he asks after you.”
Enric’s gaze stayed firmly on the window. “He doesn’t need to bother. Besides, he has far more important things to be worrying about, given his situation.”
Mac sighed, shaking his head. “That’s not how it works, man. Not for us.”
“Us?”
“Fathers.”
Enric stiffened a bit in his seat. “I get that, Mac, but I’ve done just fine on my own for a long while. I don’t see the need to change anything between Luca and me anytime soon. We’ve done perfectly well like we are. Especially now, given the outlook of his circumstance, there’s not much point to me depending on a father who can’t help me from his position.”
Ah.
So that was it.
It wasn’t that Enric didn’t want to allow his father closer, but rather, wasn’t willing to take the risk of being hurt if he did.
“You act like Luca abandoned you for all these years,” Mac said, passing his companion a look. “We both know that isn’t true. Whatever distance is between the both of you is not by Luca’s hand, but your own. You made that choice.”
“I’m aware.”
“Enric.”
Mac got nothing in response.
He sighed loudly.
“Enric.”
“What?” the younger man snapped.
“It’s never too late to admit that you might need your dad, even if it’s just to have him ask if you’re okay,” Mac murmured.
“I am okay, Mac.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t need him to ask, so then you know that he knows you’ll be just fine regardless, and maybe then that’ll help his worrying, too. Luca loves you, but only as much as you have allowed, Enric. Again, that was not by his choice.”
Enric didn’t respond.
Mac didn’t really need him to.
Enric wheeled himself out of the doors, looking slightly happier than he had before he entered. Mac hoped that was a good sign that the visit between father and son had gone better than expected. But then again, sometimes it was hard to tell with Enric.
“James Maccari, you’re up next,” came the call from the guard behind the Plexiglas.
Luca was no longer allowed visitors in small groups, but now, only one-on-one.
Mac passed Enric by with a nod as the man collected his things from the designated bin.
“I’ll be waiting outside,” Enric said.
“No smoking in the vehicle,” Mac warned.
Enric scowled. “Yeah, yeah.”
“I’m serious. Melina would have a fit if she smelled it.”
Enric knew the rules.
And how Melina could be.
“I got it, boss,” Enric muttered.
Mac readied to turn and correct Enric’s casual use of a title that was in no way designated to him. Skip was one thing—Mac was a Capo, after all. Boss, though? That was quite another thing.
He didn’t get the chance to correct Enric, as the guard at the door impatiently waved him along, looking like he was two seconds away from sending Mac back the way he had come. Mac couldn’t afford to miss the meeting with Luca because he had mouthed off to a pushy guard. Especially considering the meetings with the locked up boss were already far and few between, Luca rarely used the phone to make calls to his men, and Mac happened to be one of the few that Luca did call on.
Mac was shuffled down a hallway, through another set of metal doors, then came another longer corridor, before being checked and rechecked again. He had already given up his jacket, the contents of his pants pockets, and his cell phone at the visitation check-in. Still, further in, he was given a more thorough search, and had his shoes replaced with booties.
Three thousand dollar leather loafers replaced with three dollar paper booties.
It was fucking undignified.
“Cazzo,” Mac swore, “be easy with the leather, merda.”
The guard behind the table barely passed Mac a glance as he unceremoniously dumped the expensive shoes into a waiting gray bin. There was no gentleness involved in the actions at all.
The only thing Mac could do was shoot the guy with a look that voiced his inner irritation before he was shuffled along again.
Damn.
He was starting to feel like the prisoner.
If somebody brought out the cuffs, Mac was gone.
Mac missed the simplicity of the jail where Luca had first been housed while he waited out his hearings and inevitable trial. Visiting the Cosa Nostra Don back then had not been so difficult or exhausting. The change in venue was apparently due to Luca’s high profile, and the very nature of his charges.
At one time, the justice system had been innocent until proven guilty. Yeah, right.
Luca had been denied many things since his arrest—from contact with people outside of his lawyer, to a proper bail. The dignity of justice was gone.
Mac no longer believed that guilt had to be proven in a made man’s circumstance, only believed.
Luca was the very proof.
Unless, that was, there was something that Mac didn’t know. Something about the entire thing with Luca that he was missing.
Who knew?
Soon, Mac found himself in a secure visitation room, sitting across the metal table from Luca while the man picked at his supper on a tray. The food on the tray didn’t appear to be very appetizing, and at least one of the reddish-brown lumps was something Mac couldn’t decipher.
Luca waved a plastic spoon over the lump, seemingly noticing Mac’s stare. “Take a guess.”
“Uh … shit?”
The boss chuckled in his drab, gray prison uniform. “Close enough. They say it is meatloaf. I say my wife, and her absolute shitty ability to cook anything, could make a better meatloaf.”
Mac’s brow furrowed. “Should it be that soggy?”
“No.”
Well, then.
Speaking of Neeya …
“I heard Neeya finally closed the deal on the mansion with a buyer,” Mac said.
Luca didn’t bother to look up from his food as he answered. “Sì, the lawyer let me know the last time he was in. Eleven million—a bit less than what I paid for the estate, but it’s a decent price given the current market.”
“The lawyer let you know?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Neeya didn’t think to call?”
Luca sighed. “Something on your mind?”
Apparently, Mac was not being as sly as he thought he was with his line of questioning.
“You don’t seem bothered that she sold your home,” Mac noted.
“Hers, not mine.” Luca smiled thinly. “From the day we married, every single thing I ever owned or bought was put into her name. It’s all hers, Mac. And as such, she can do with any of it whatever she wishes to do.”
“But doesn’t any of it feel like yours?” Mac asked, knowing that he was already toeing a very careful line. It was not his place to ask questions or to demand answers about another man’s—never mind the boss’s—wife or marriage. Luca would have every right to shut Mac down. Mac persisted before Luca could do just that. “The cars you collected over the years, your family heirlooms, the paintings of your father and grandfather? None of it feels like yours?”
Luca finally glanced up from his food. “There is only one thing in this world other than my surname and the legacy it holds that belongs only to me now. Neeya knows what that is—she has always known. I’ve never doubted that.”
Mac wanted to ask exactly what that was, but checked his impulse, knowing that he had already pushed his luck and Luca’s good graces more than enough. The man was in prison, sure, but he was still who he was.
A boss.
And that deserved respect.
Always.
“Enric is doing well,” Luca said between bites. “Mentioned he gained himself a new therapist.”
Luca shot Mac with a sly smile, adding, “You, I mean.”
“Someone has to keep his whiney ass in line.”
“As long as you don’t push too hard.”
Mac stilled in his seat, catching Luca’s eye for a moment. He heard the warning in the man’s tone, but even more importantly, he heard the request. Not from a boss to his capo, or even a man to a man.
No, a father to a father.
Mac heard it.
“Enric has plenty of others to push him where I won’t,” Mac assured.
Luca nodded. “Good. Perfetto.”
“Have you had any contact with Enzo?”
“Not since …” Luca trailed off, as though he had to consider how long it had actually been since he had a discussion with his underboss. “A while.”
As far as Mac knew, Enzo was still being housed in the jail where Luca had first been staying. He didn’t understand why the boss had been moved due to the nature of his charges and upcoming trial, yet the underboss facing the same issues, had not.
Unless …
“Do you think the Feds are working Enzo for information?” Mac asked.
Luca shrugged. “You would have to be the one to tell me that, Mac.”
The boss had offered the reply so easily, as though he didn’t truly care one way or the other, but Mac didn’t believe that to be true. Loyalty was everything to Luca, and if the man had even the slightest inkling that someone was infecting Enzo to turn on his boss and old friend, then a life would be lost.
“And what news do you have for me?” Luca asked, effectively changing the subject before Mac could press the man for more details on Enzo.
“Anthony.”
Luca scowled, chewing his bite of food with a bit more force than before. “Keep going.”
“He suggests that he has contact with either you, or Enzo, and behaves accordingly.”
“Is that so?”
“Does he?”
Luca tapped a single finger to his temple. “Not me.”
But perhaps Enzo.
Mac got the man’s unspoken words. “You would be the better of the two, given some of his … actions lately.”
“Like what?”
Mac quickly went over some of Anthony Corelli’s latest nonsense, and the way the rest of the Pivetti Capos and their men were reacting to the actions and such. “He’s certainly gotten the idea stuck in his head that he is justified—if not expected—to take some kind of control while others are unable. We’ve discussed this before, Luca.”
“I’m still not sure why Anthony is going that route.”
“I think it’s pretty obvious. He’d like to find himself in the boss’s seat when you’re unable to fill it.”
It was the first time Mac had suggested the inevitable to Luca. That the man, no matter how good his lawyers were or what the unknown would bring them, would not be free. He would not be returning to his previous position as the head of the family. It was what it was, and they needed to face what it could mean.
Luca was the boss.
That meant, up until he no longer held that title, he made the calls as to who should follow him and why.
“What about that rat problem you were having?” Luca asked.
Another subject change?
Mac pushed back his irritation. “I’d like to think that’s Anthony, too.”
“Really?”
“I have my reasons, just no proof.”
“Would a rat kill while being tangled with the officials in some way?” Luca asked.
“He’s the only one that makes sense.”
Luca nodded. “Well, we’ll certainly have that figured out soon enough, won’t we? And after it’s all said and done, if you still have the problem, then you know Anthony is the one causing those issues.”
“After what is said and done?” Mac asked.
The boss went back to his food like he hadn’t said a thing. “Soon enough. Tell me about your wife, and that baby of yours.”
Mac had no choice but to give into the boss’s request, knowing questioning Luca would likely get him nowhere. Once the man made up his mind, or decided to do something, it was already done, essentially. He didn’t feel the need to explain it or talk it out with someone else.
It was simply a wait and see situation.
Mac would wait and see what Luca had done.
Mac checked his watch for the fifth time, before glancing around the upscale restaurant to see if his guest had shown up yet. There was no one at the front, making him sigh.
Maybe he could be a little bit more patient, given the situation. After all, he had planned this night as a sort of surprise for his wife, with no prior notice so that she could prepare. It wouldn’t be strange for Melina to have a minor freak out at the idea of suddenly arriving home to babysitters, her bags packed, and a new dress waiting on her bed. He hadn’t given anyone permission to explain what to tell Melina, and she was given nothing to expect. The only thing his wife would have found was the dress, and a note saying she was expected elsewhere for the evening, and to dress and look accordingly.
It was time, Mac thought.
Time for his wife to get away. Time for her to have a break, even if it was only for one night. It was definitely time for Mac to spend some time loving and showing his wife just how much he appreciated her.
It had been too long for them.
Since Marquise had been born, too much had been pushed aside. Mac didn’t blame his son for that, as that’s what happened when babies came along. Things changed. Lives had to change accordingly. The old rules no longer applied.
He was simply going to work around that little issue.
New rules, Mac mused.
Too many times, he had just started something with his wife at home in their bed, only to have the cries of a hungry or wet baby interrupt his not-so-innocent intentions. He knew that Melina had gotten her all clear from the doctor, which meant she was good to have all the fun in the world with Mac.
As long as they could find the time.
Mac was no longer looking for time.
He was fucking making it.
Marquise would be perfectly fine for one night with his godfather and godmother. He wasn’t even leaving his own house. He would sleep in his own crib, and wake up there in the morning. The only difference?
He would not be cock blocking his father.
Win.
Melina would have had her panicked moment when she arrived home, waffled a bit on leaving the baby, but once she realized there was no other option, she would follow along with Mac’s game. He was sure of it.
“You look mighty pleased about something,” came a voice from the side.
Mac smiled at the silky, familiar tone of his wife. He found Melina standing at the side of his table, and chuckled at his own distraction. He missed her coming into the restaurant, which was a shame. He had really wanted to watch her walk across the floor in the dress he bought her for the night—the black, tight, sequined number hugged Melina’s curves beautifully, and fell three inches above her knees.
“Well, what is it that has you smiling over here all by your lonesome?” Melina asked.
“Just thinking about you, doll, and all the hell you must have given Victoria and Enric before you left.”
Melina’s gaze narrowed as she stared out the restaurant window. “Yes, well, I’m sure Marquise will be perfectly fine for one night. Now.”
Mac cocked a brow. “Now?”
“I may have made some threats.”
“Melina.”
“What?” His wife smirked, shrugging a single dainty shoulder like she didn’t have a care in the world. “Momma Bear doesn’t play, Mac.”
No, she certainly didn’t.
“They’re doing me a great favor by watching the baby tonight,” Mac said.
Melina waited for him to stand, pull out her chair, and only then did she sit, allowing him to push her back into the table. “You sprung this on me with no warning. I have not left Marquise alone for a whole night once since he was born. Some attitude should have been—at the very least—expected.”
Mac nodded, letting his fingers drift through the soft curls at the nape of his wife’s neck. He loved it when she wore her hair down in curls. They always looked like silk, soft and shiny, and he couldn’t help himself but to touch. Her warm caramel-toned skin felt the same under his fingertips, only he felt the blood rush to the surface of her neck, her pulse picking up slightly, as his fingers drifted over her throat.
Leaning down, Mac placed a lingering kiss to his wife’s cheek. “Oh, I always expect the attitude, doll.”
“You’re working for something tonight, aren’t you?”
Mac had no intention of hiding that. “All night, if possible.”
Melina’s grin turned a bit wicked as Mac took his seat across from her. “You didn’t need to take me away for the evening to get a good fuck, Mac.”
He shot her a look.
Melina smirked. “What?”
“Yes, I absolutely did. Tomorrow, I intend to be exhausted because of one thing, and it is not going to be because a baby was hungry or wet.”
She didn’t even try to argue with him.
A server moved towards their table, offering to open the bottle of wine Mac had waiting, and ready to take their order. It was only after the server had left, and his wife was nursing a glass of wine, did Mac speak again.
“If you have something specific you might like to do tonight, now would be the time to speak up and say so, doll.”
Melina pursed her painted red lips. “What did you have planned first?”
“A show after this, then a beautiful suite with a hot tub and a big ass bed.”
“That sounds lovely, actually.”
“I thought so,” Mac mused, grinning. “But I figured I should ask you if there was something you might like to do otherwise.”
Melina looked up, swirling the wine in her glass. “A drive, maybe.”
“A drive?”
“When do we ever get to drive, just you and me, anymore?” she asked.
Never.
He was always gone somewhere.
She was always busy.
“A drive it is,” Mac agreed.
Mac moved his chair closer to his wife as they waited for their food to be served. By the time the food did finally get to them, he might as well have had Melina sitting in his lap, but she didn’t seem to mind. There, he could give her all the attention she had probably been missing lately.
“You didn’t tell me about the trip to the prison yesterday,” Melina said as she righted her napkin on her lap. “Or how it all went.”
“No business tonight, doll.”
“It’s not business. It was a visit.”
“It’s always business,” Mac said with a wink. “And we’re not doing that tonight.”
His tone brokered no room for argument. Melina handed a fork over to him, and smiled like a pleased kitten with her cream as her husband fed her.
Melina played with the shimmering jewels on her clutch as Mac signed them into the hotel, and waited for the room key to be handed over. The dinner had ended long before the show was supposed to start, and Mac decided to take his wife on that drive, which lead them out of the city. By the time they had got back, the show was already well beyond the beginning, but Melina hadn’t minded. She convinced him to leave the show before it was even over.
“Thanks,” Mac said as the room key was finally handed over. He placed his hand to his wife’s lower back, and directed her towards the elevator. “Let’s go, doll.”
Mac swore he could feel the shivers of anticipation already beginning to race through Melina’s body, even through her sequined dress. He didn’t blame her—already, he was counting the steps left to the elevator, and then the floors between the bottom and their suite. Too many, he decided.
He was a bit impatient.
“Top floor,” Mac said as they slid into the elevator.
He would run down to the car to get their bags after.
Melina hit the appropriate button, and the doors slid closed, leaving them alone in the elevator before another guest could slide in with them. “I’m starting to wonder what kept you from booking the suite for the whole weekend.”
“Because I know my wife,” Mac murmured, his hand sliding down from her back to her pert ass. He gave her backside a pat. His fingers slipped up under the hem of the dress, so he could slide the tips along her inner thighs. Smooth and warm skin met his fingertips, and he grinned sinfully as she shot him a look over her shoulder. “By tomorrow morning, you’ll be happy and sweet, but also ready to go home. A phone call won’t be enough. You’ll have to see Marquise, touch him …” Mac chuckled, adding, “Smell him, probably.”
That was some weird mom shit he didn’t understand, but on more than one occasion, he had caught his wife sniffing their son’s head like it was some kind of drug.
Melina shrugged. “Probably.”
“Exactly.”
“Can’t you at least wait until we get inside the suite?”
Mac’s fingers traveled higher between her thighs under her dress, coming in contact with thin lace covering her damp center. Heat met his fingertips, and another one of those shivers raced through his wife as he stroked her over her panties. “No, not really.”
“God, you are …”
“Going crazy?” Mac offered.
“Something,” she said.
The faintness in her tone had him laughing deeply under his breath, and he knew then that his stroking, as light and teasing as it was, was definitely doing something for her. If only he felt like giving the camera up above their heads a bit of a show, he bet he could get his wife looking all kinds of crazy for the security people.
Mac held back.
But only barely.
“Something crazy,” Melina added when the elevator shifted a second before the door opened to their floor.
She tossed him a sly wink over her shoulder as she stepped out into the hall, snatching the keycard from his hand and not even bothering to wait for him to follow. Mac shook his head, and stuffed his hands into his pockets to resist the urge to grab hold of his wife and drag her back where he could get his hands back between her beautiful thighs.
A few more steps, he told himself. Not long now.
He could wait a few more steps.
Surely.
Mac was lying to himself.
Melina had only managed to stop in front of their room, and slid the keycard into the slot before Mac was dragging the zipper of her dress all the way down. He split the fabric open as his hand dove back between her thighs. All he could see was more skin, and the curve of her ass covered by lace. Her breathless laugh filled the quiet, dark hallway before she stumbled into the room, and he followed, kicking the door closed with a loud slam behind them.
Mac didn’t waste a bit of time after that. He finally had his wife alone, almost naked, and there was a guarantee of no interruptions.
Hell yes.
“You are impatient,” Melina teased.
Mac shut her taunting up with a hard kiss, using her momentary distraction to his benefit to yank her dress down over her shoulders and hips until it pooled at her feet. He’d been playing with her silky hair all night, but not the way he liked, not the way he really wanted to. He fisted those soft strands at the nape of her neck to keep her in place as he explored the sweet heat of her mouth, taking away all her breath and soaking her in as his other hand roved down over her body.
Pretty lace covered her breasts, and her skin heated under his touch. He dragged his hand lower until he could grab a handful of her ass, too. Mac brought his wife in closer, needing to taste more of her, wanting to touch more of her.
He always wanted more of her.
Mac dotted kisses along his wife’s jaw, feeling her smile grow sinful under his lips. “There’s a stand right behind you, doll, do me a favor and bend over it for a few minutes.”
It wasn’t even a request.
Melina’s brow rose. “Isn’t there a bed in here?”
“We’ll get there.”
Eventually, he held back from adding.
Mac fully intended on dragging this night out as long as he possibly could. It had been far too long since he had his wife, since he had loved her properly, and he didn’t want to waste a single moment of it.
When Melina didn’t react as quickly as Mac wanted her to, he was the one to turn her around, his hand snapping against the curve of her backside just hard enough to make her gasp the sweetest sound. Instinctively, his wife reached out for the stand, her fingers curling around the edges as her back curved under his touch running down her naked spine.
Mac’s fingers tangled into the sides of her panties, and in a flash, he’d pulled the scrap of lace down her legs and out of his fucking way. The sliver of her pink sex peeking out at him, teasing him, was enough to bring him to his knees.
Quite literally.
The moment his mouth came in contact with his wife’s pussy, Melina jerked forward, a loud cry bouncing off the room’s walls and echoing back. Mac sent out a silent apology to any other guests on their floor that might be interrupted by his wife’s loudness, but he couldn’t feel it in himself to be too guilty.
After all, the only thing he could taste was the hot, heady tartness of his wife’s arousal soaking his tongue as her hands slammed down onto the table, and she demanded more. The only thing he wanted to hear was her cries as they got a little bit more desperate, and she rode his face just the way she liked the best.
The smell of her, the taste of her … that was heaven to Mac.
A sinful heaven, to be sure, but heaven all the same.
Mac fully intended to tease his wife over and over throughout the night, until she was pink-cheeked and flushed all over, both begging and ready to demand what she wanted, but right then, he just wanted to make her come. His hands slid down from her ass to her ankles, and his fingers wrapped tight as his tongue found that sweet spot that made his wife shake.
Melina stiffened above him, her back curving harder, and her legs trembling under his hold as more of her juices flooded his tongue and she came.
Hot, loud, and hard.
Fuck, yeah.
Way too long.
Mac was standing before Melina had even finished. His hands dragged up the backs of her legs and thighs to soak in her heat and shivering. Her quick breaths, broken up by bouts of breathless laughter, had him smiling.
“And now you can get in bed,” Mac whispered in her ear. “But—”
“Keep the shoes on.”
She knew him so well.
“You got it, doll.”
Mac barely gave the hotel room a once over as he followed close behind Melina to the sectioned off bedroom, private from the main rooms. He probably should have stopped to appreciate the expensive settings, waiting trays, and champagne set out for them to enjoy. He had other things on his mind.
Like the sway of his wife’s ass.
And her legs in those heels.
Damn.
“Back or knees?” Melina asked over her shoulder.
“Back,” Mac answered. “We’ll get to the other bits later.”
Melina only shook her head, but did as he said, falling to her back on the bed a second before he was standing at the bottom, shedding his clothes piece by piece. It was only after he was completely naked and had a condom slid down the length of his erection—one baby was enough for now—did he finally climb in between the open invitation of his wife’s thighs.
Melina sighed sweetly as Mac’s cock filled her full. Her pretty lips fell open in a perfect O shape as her head tilted back into the many pillows. It was like a tight, wet, warm velvet had suddenly wrapped his dick and wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon. Mac was damn near lost in that sensation.
Another flex of his hips, and he found himself even deeper.
Melina tensed. “Easy.”
Mac ran the tips of his fingers over the slope of her nose and cheekbones, careful, sweet touches as he felt her inner muscles flex around his cock. “I will.”
Even sex couldn’t quite be the same after a baby, he knew. As much as he wanted to fuck his wife as hard and as fast as he could possibly manage to, he simply couldn’t do that. It had been too long, and she needed to be loved accordingly.
“This,” Mac said, his fingertips gliding over her bottom lip.
“Hmm?”
Airless and soft, her words came out like a caress.
Mac kissed Melina’s bottom lip. “This here,” he said again, repeating the motion. “All your shapes and curves. I love them.”
Melina smiled, her legs wrapping tight around him, the heels of her pumps digging into the backs of his thighs. A shift of her hips, and he was pulling out again, sinking back inside her wet sex slower than before.
He didn’t mind slow for now.
He felt so much more when he took the time to enjoy it.
Her russet eyes watched him, pupils blown and bliss so evident. “So is this going to be a new thing—this taking me away for a night?”
“Yes. Definitely yes.”
Melina stretched and yawned against Mac’s side, shimmying in closer to his body at the same time. Morning light spilled in through the window, highlighting the curves of his wife’s body as he traced them for the hundredth time with his hands.
“You were right,” she murmured, the exhaustion yet happiness thick in her tone.
“I usually am, but indulge me this time. About what?”
“I don’t want to leave, but I have the strangest urge to go home and sniff the baby’s head.”
Mac snorted, entirely amused at the admission. “He smells like lotion and milk, Melina.”
Or depending on the time of day or when he fed, Marquise could have a whole bunch of unpleasant smells, too.
“And me,” she mumbled. “He smells like me and mine.”
His brow furrowed as he took in those words, unsure of how to reply. “Like your things, or …?”
“No, like my baby. He smells like mine.”
“Oh.”
Melina smiled against his pec. “It’s a mom thing.”
“We can get going, doll.”
“Okay.”
“Go have a shower and I’ll get some breakfast up here. We’ll eat before we go.”
Melina dragged herself out of the bed, both looking as though she wanted to leave, and like she might crawl right back under the sheets with him. As she disappeared into the attached bath, she called over her shoulder, “But call and check on the baby.”
“He’s fine. I’m sure.”
“Call!”
Mac was already reaching for the phone. It rang twice before someone picked up at his home. The angry wails of Marquise echoed in the background.
“Ciao,” Mac said into the phone.
“I think he likes his milk straight from the boob,” Victoria muttered in the other end.
Mac did his best not to laugh, and failed miserably. Marquise wasn’t even breastfed now. “So he’s basically good, then?”
“Here, talk to your equally annoying friend,” his sister grumbled.
Two seconds later, Enric was on the phone, sounding slightly happier than Victoria. “I think Marquise has just figured out that his mom actually isn’t home this morning. He was fine through the night taking a bottle, but today he’s looking for her.”
“Makes sense,” Mac said. “We’re going to eat and then we’ll head home right after.”
“Great.” A beat of silence passed before Enric asked, “Did you get a call this morning?”
“I turned the cell off last night—I only gave the room phone number to you and Vic.”
“Huh. You might want to check your phone.”
“Why?” Mac asked. “What happened?”
Something always happened.
He wanted one night with his wife.
Mac was not asking for a lot.
“It’s Enzo,” Enric said.
“What about him?”
“Guess they found him dead in his cell this morning during roll call. They haven’t called it or made an official announcement yet, but the guy’s a staunch Catholic, so …”
“He didn’t kill himself.”
“No good made man would, Mac.”
Had Luca just made his move?