“Eh?” He’s in the middle of patting down his jacket pockets in our entry hall, looking for his car keys, and blinks at me.
“Confession. That Aidan O’Leary said you’re a regular at Our Lady. You’re not telling tales about the Morellis when you bare your soul?”
A dark frown comes over his face. “No, Mr. D’Amato, I am not. What do you take me for, some kinda rat?”
“Sorry, sorry,” I say hurriedly. I’ve crossed a line; Marco is furious. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I’m no rat,” he insists again.
“I’m sorry.” I really mean it this time. “It was a shitty thing to say, and I never really thought you’d… I’m sorry, Marco.”
He looks only slightly mollified. “Alright,” he says. “Well. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. D.”
He leaves, bidding goodnight to the guards outside, who have taken up their evening shift. I go inside alone to wait.
Luca is later than usual coming home, and I’m bored as hell in the sitting room, watching some reality TV shit that Marco left on.
“You look amazing, angel,” he says after sweeping into the room and kissing me until I’m breathless. “And is that a new cologne?”
“You don’t have much time if we’re making that dinner reservation,” I grouse. “You better get changed and—”
“You look and smell amazing, but you’re not dressed for wherewe’regoing,” Luca goes on, smiling down at me. “So come on, let’s get changed together.”
“But I thought—”
“Don’t you know what day it is today, baby bird?” He takes me by the hand and pulls me upstairs so we can be alone.
“Friday,” I say bluntly, as I get yanked up the staircase.
He laughs at that. I haven’t seen Luca this light for a long time, and I like it. It lifts my own spirits, too. “It is,” he says. “But it’s not justanyFriday.”
“Well, it’s not Valentine’s Day, it’s not our wedding anniversary, and it’s not my birthday. So—”
“You were closer with one of those.” We reach the bedroom and he starts stripping me off, pulling open my shirt and kissing his way down my chest, kneeling down in front of me. “Anniversary,” he adds, taking his tongue out of my belly button for a second.
“I—fuck.” He’s pulled my pants down now, rubbing his face around in my junk. “Anniversary of what?”
“First time we didthis.”
It finally hits me. Five years back—six, now, in fact—I first laid eyes on this glowing demon of a man. “How the hell could I possibly have forgotten?”
“Well, you’ve had a few things on your mind recently,” he says. “But it’s my aim to make sure you never forget again. So tonight will be a night to remember, baby bird.” He stops talking, pushes me so I fall back onto the bed, and stuffs his mouth full of me. But just when I’m on edge, about to shoot, he stops, gets up, and says: “I should shower.”
“What the actual fuck,” I groan, covering my face with my hands. “You’re gonna leave me high and dry on this night of all nights? Really?”
“Oh, you’ll get what you need, angel,” he laughs over his shoulder as he heads to the bathroom. “Just not until this night is done.”
I lean up on my elbows and give my cock, hard and slippery and baffled, a commiserating sad face. “What should I wear?” I holler through to him as I hear the shower start.
“I picked something out!” he yells back.
Yeah… I don’t know aboutthat.
Chapter Eighteen
Finch
“Idid good, didn’t I?” Luca asks eagerly on our way to wherever he’s taking me. He’s dressed me up in a royal purple velvet jacket and gold lamé pants by Alexander McQueen, plus a skintight, long-sleeved gold mesh top from a brand called Bitch Boy. I think he must have ordered it online.
