Chapter 8
Sera
When Damian leaves, I give Cage some space to work things out in his head. I can see the tension and the worry he has about this Murphy asshat. I vow that no one will hurt our Coley. No one. I’ll kill them before they even get close. She’s fought too hard to beat the C word and now she’s got such an amazing family. Why can’t life stop messing with her?
I sigh as I remove my clothes and put on my silk robe that hits me mid-thigh. In the bathroom, I remove my makeup and wash my face, still thinking of that hulk of a man. His stares would have had most women afraid. Me? I just wanted to kick his ass. How dare he try to intimidate me? I’m positive it was because I was a woman. He didn’t stare at Cage like that. Sexist bastard. He’ll find out. When the time comes, he’ll be the one who’s intimidated.
I sigh again. The amount of bullshit we’ve had to put up with hasn’t been too much, considering we’re the mafia or the mob or whatever you want to call it. I account that to us being solid. Strong. People don’t want to mess with the Russos—and they shouldn’t. We are a force to be reckoned with.
I slide into bed in my lavender silk nightie. I don’t really consider it a negligee. I just love the silky feel against my skin when I’m sleeping, though most of the time I wake up in just my panties. I sleep on top of Cage, literally on top of him, and somehow he gets me topless every night. Some nights he manages to get the panties off too. The devil.
I start reading the latest indie novel from Harper Bentley. Those Powers boys. Yum!
I’m engrossed in the book when Cage comes in—with his glasses on. Holy smokes. Sometimes I can’t believe he’s my husband. He’s so good looking it should be illegal. I’m not even kidding. I think part of the appeal is his quiet, cool confidence.
He catches me staring. I don’t even care. This is the kind of stare that’s legit. I’m leering at my man. Now, he lifts his brows and his lips twitch.
I push the blankets down and half crawl-half lay across the bed, then turn onto my back, my arms raised above my head.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Really. I thought the Powers boys would entertain you enough.”
“Baby, you’re not really jealous of fictional college boys, are you?” I tease.
This time only one brow lifts as if to ask, “Are you serious?” As if this man would be jealous. He’s possessive, yes; but he knows I’m his one hundred and fifty percent. He’s secure in our love as am I.
“Everything okay?” I ask as he unbuttons his dress shirt.
He nods. “I just don’t like this new development. This needs to be handled swiftly or there’ll be consequences.”
I sit up on my knees, my legs folded beneath me. “We’ve got the best of the best which means we’ll do our best. That’s all we can do, love.”
“I know, Fee,” he replies as he takes off his socks. “I’m just edgy.”
I’ve never known Cage to be edgy. Not even when the Manzini’s threatened their worst. I don’t know how to help him with this.
Well, maybe I do.
“Come here, my love,” I beckon, rubbing the spot on the bed where he sleeps.
He smirks and his eyes darken.
“On your front. Let me give you a massage.”
He lets out what can only be described as a grunt, then lays flat as instructed.
I reach over to my bedside table and pick up my lotion.
“You’re going to smell like honeysuckle,” I tease.
“I’ll smell likeyou. I’ll smell even more like you before the night’s through,” Cage replies.
I rub my thighs together in anticipation. Just a few words—promises to be sure—from my husband has me aroused.
I straddle his buttocks and sit.
“I prefer to be the one on top in this position,” he teases.
