Page 110 of Revenge on the Mafia

They were still thirty-two feet away, but the wind carried his words. The prick standing in front of my wife in swimming briefs exploding with dancing dolphins was spouting words that were going to get a gun to his head. Sangria and you mixed in it.

My wife held up her wedding finger. “Sorry.”

Sorry? What the fuck was she sorry about?

I came to a quiet stop behind them. Twenty feet away. Needed the distance not to scatter crimson on the golden beach.

Her shoulders tensed as if she could feel the heat of my glare. The prick was too intent on stealing her from me that it took him some time to notice the audience. His smile froze when he looked up. Then he dug his grave deeper. “Hey man, I was just asking her to join for a drink. You can join, too…ugh…” He backed away from me. I was as calm as a cucumber. I didn’t know why he was ready to pee his pants. “If you like…”

His plus-one invite wasn’t convincing. “I’d love a drink. No harm in that.” To me, at least. He could barely hold my gaze but fell for my calm tone, shoulders sagging in relief.

My wife unfortunately didn’t. It annoyed me that she saw right through me. That was the only con. And that she was too fucking pretty. Why did she have to attract men like bees to honey? Jumping to her feet, she rushed over to me. “We have plans, mi corazón.”

Every time she called me her heart, I wanted to spread her thighs and eat her pussy like a starving man. Since she’d kill me if I did it now and I wanted to live longer if she was with me, I pulled her to my side instead and tucked her under my arm. “We can change our plans.” I bent my head and brushed her ear with the sting of my words. “Your husband’s in the mood to Sangria the fuck out of him.”

She pushed away from me and snapped, “Dios mio, Nico, si mates a otro hombre por mil culpa, me voy.”

If you so much as kill another man because of me, I’m gone.

She glared at me. I battled with wanting to take the prick around the corner and wanting to fuck the fury out of my wife.

“Get inside.”

“No. I refuse to let you kill another man.” Her hand flew to her mouth when she realized she’d let those words slip in English. She flipped to address her admirer, and her shoulders sagged in relief when she caught sight of his disappearing back. “¡Dios mío!” She went off on a rant.

I wanted to suck those furious Spanish words spilling from her thick lips. Deep chocolate curls danced around her head wildly, and her face was a picture of agitation as she brushed them away furiously. My hands itched to tangle those coils in my fist. Rip those pom-poms apart and bury my cock in her pussy.

“Well…” She stood with her legs spread apart. Hands on her hips. “What do you have to say?”

I took in her sun-kissed skin. The little fuchsia temptation covering calling out to me. “I’ll give you a head start.”

Her breathing staggered. Irises darkening as she took in the shift in my mood. Her teeth sank into her plump little lip as she took a step back. Then she was off.

I gave her the head start I had promised. Rattled off a bunch of Fibonacci sequences as I took out my phone and sent an email. I’d need another ten fucking pairs of that bikini. This one was going to be in more than two pieces in the next few minutes.

When I walked inside, I was slow. She was faster. I still caught her around the corner between the kitchen and the living room. Pinning her squealing, slippery body to the wall, I slammed my mouth onto hers. She bit my lip and made me taste copper. Pushing away, I growled in anger, “I’m not letting you out until I put a fucking concrete wall around you.”

Hiking up her legs, she wrapped them around my hips and drew me closer as she pleaded with me for the sake of another man. “Por favor, don’t do anything to him.”

“I'll think about it,” I lied, tracing the pom-poms covering her breasts. Such tiny things. How could they be the bane of my existence?

“Promise me?”

“Can’t promise shit I don’t mean.” I pulled the two cups down and stared at her breasts. I’d start a war for these.

Leaning forward, I sucked one, but she cupped my face and pulled my head right up. “You’re not helping his case by withholding my pleasure,” I muttered in irritation.

She tipped her head and whispered sweet words. “Por favor, mi corazón.”

I groaned. God help me. She ruled me without lifting a pinky. One word and I was pussy-whipped into agreeing to her ridiculous demands. “Fine,” I muttered. Her lips turned into a smile. I wiped it off by sticking my tongue in her. She moaned. I liked that better.

She tasted of salt, sea, and sand. Of the strawberry margarita she’d had. But also of a good time and a dream that had finally become my reality. I traced her mouth. Played with it until I was ready to burst in my pants, then dragged my mouth down and bit a path to her breasts.

“Gracias,” she moaned.

I wasn’t sure if she was thanking me for the attention or for letting the fucker live. My thoughts jumbled. I couldn’t think with this woman in my hands. The doubt annoyed me too. “Too bad you lucked out.”

“I didn’t luck out.”