Page 38 of Married to the Mafia

Brandi exhaled hard, the breath shaking from her. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“You might be asking the wrong man if it’s moral absolution you want, kitten.” Mikey kissed her temple again. “But if you want someone to support you and protect you, I can do that.” His hand lowered to her shoulder. “Speaking of, just a thought, but we have a psychotherapist on payroll. She’s trustworthy. I can set you up an appointment with her if you want.”

An unexpected laugh bubbled out of her. “The De Salvos have a therapist on hand? Do you have everything?”

“We do try.”

She reached up and laid her hands over his forearms, just to maximize their points of contact. “Doesn’t that … change things, though? My infertility, I mean.” She hated that word. It never felt like an accurate description. But it was probably the easiest description.

“Not for me,” Mikey said. “I never especially wanted kids. As long as my brothers continue the family line, that’s enough. And Romeo handled that like eight years ago.”

A little more tension slipped from her. “With how family oriented you all seem, I thought family lineage would be a big deal.”

“Objectively, but not so much that we’re all required to reproduce.” The pitch of his voice lowered when he added, “It is nice to know I can fill your hot pussy without worrying about the consequences.”

A very different shiver rolled through her and Brandi squirmed as much as his hold allowed. “You didn’t seem all that worried yesterday,” she managed to reply.

He chuckled. “Worth it.” His lips teased the shell of her ear for a second before he asked, “What was the other thing?”

Brandi blinked, trying to chase the fog of fresh lust from her mind. “What?”

“You said there were multiple things.”

Crap. “Right.” She drew a breath, which did little to settle her, and forced out the awkward question. “We should probably have also discussed, you know, whether or not we’re both clean.” Would he want to get updated tests done?

“I am,” Mikey replied.

“Me, too.” Was that enough?

Mikey trailed his raised arm down her torso, over her breasts, until he was holding her hip. “Kinda feel like getting dirty, though.”

Her lips twitched. “You literally put us in this position.” She could feel his arousal now, pressing into the top of her butt.

Mikey angled his head to brush kisses across the side of her face. “Don’t expect me to apologize.”

Brandi squirmed again, a little more intentionally. “The sofa’s a bit tight this way, don’t you think?”

He hummed, the hand at her hip sliding beneath the hem of her shirt. His fingers grazed her skin, burning a direct path to the snap of her jeans. It came loose as his lips closed to suck on the sensitive flesh behind her ear.

The sudden ringing of his phone shattered the heady mood, startling both of them.

Mikey growled, withdrawing his hand. “Motherfucker,” he grumbled.

Brandi shared the sentiment of his irritation entirely.

He hauled them both upright and reached for his phone with the hand that had been moments away from sinking inside her, his other arm remaining locked around her waist. He swiped his thumb across the screen and quickly tapped the speaker button, saying, “Go ahead.”

Brandi adjusted to lean into his shoulder, her gaze lingering on the caller ID. Someone from the guardhouse at the front of the property was calling, and she’d been living at the manor just long enough to find that odd.

“My apologies for disturbing you, sir,” said a vaguely familiar voice. The older guard who’d first approached her the day before. From what Brandi had learned the previous evening, the only hits that specific guard had taken were in his vest, so while he probably had a bruise or three, he was fine.

The guard who’d taken the first shot was out of work for a while, having taken a bullet clear through his shoulder. Another had also suffered injury, but Mikey swore only the one she’d seen was serious enough to require rehabilitation.

“I assume there’s something going on outside I need to know about?” Mikey asked.

“Yes, sir,” the guard said. There was a note of discomfort in his voice. “You have a visitor. He’s not on the approved list, but considering who it is, I thought I should call.”

Both of Brandi’s brows lifted at the obviously avoidant phrasing.

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