Page 110 of Married with Mayhem

My knees stretch far apart. I’m ready for him and yet still surprised to feel him in my body. He’s in a controlling mood this time and he pins my wrists over my head while thrusting hard and deep.

“You’ll wait for me,” he says. Not a request. A command.

Okay. If that’s how he wants to do this, I can make demands too.

I lock my legs around his waist. “You’re not leaving without me.”

He throws his head back. Groans. Increases his pace. “I’ll come back for you.”

“No.” I tighten my legs, crossing my ankles at his back. He’ll need to pry me off if he wants to be free. “Promise that you need me with you, Monte.”

“Fuck.” He shuts his eyes, pumping harder. “I promise I need you, Brina. I promise.”

The noise we’re making is epic. The mattress screeches and the wooden headboard knocks against the wall. Luca is probably laughing and Anni must be covering her ears with horror. I should be embarrassed but I’m too close to coming to care.

Monte is relentless and he can outlast me. My thigh muscles ache and I struggle to keep my legs locked around him. Thepressure builds. I’m climbing higher. The longer I wait to give in, the sweeter the reward.

The release is as sharp as a crack of thunder and I can’t stop from crumbling against him, whimpering as the waves batter my senses. I’ll have to trust him to pull out because I can’t stop this. If the choice were mine, I would cling to him until I blacked out.

Monte pauses while I’m still trembling on the tail end of the climax. The way he stares down at me gives me the feeling he’s trying to reach a critical decision. He’s so swollen and hard that I know he can’t take much more.

“Stay,” I whisper, foolish and desperate. That word can have many meanings right now.

His dark eyes flicker with hunger and ownership. I’ve given him permission and he won’t refuse.

One more colossal thrust and he explodes inside me. I shouldn’t love it this much or feel so triumphant.

Monte doesn’t withdraw until he’s totally spent. He exits me slowly and then carefully lays his head on my bare breasts. I hold him to my heart and wait for him to recover. I know this won’t take long. It never does with him.

We’re quieter the next time. And the time after that. We make love for hours. We use each other until we’re both drained. Finally, we take a shower together and curl up in bed. I fall asleep on his chest, inside the secure cage of his arms.

But when I wake up, I’m no longer there.

Even before I open my eyes, I know that something is very wrong.

The earliest wisps of dawn are seeping through the cracks in the blinds. The cheerful chirping of birds in the backyard trees greets the day.

And the other side of the bed is empty.

I’m positive he’s gone even before I sit up straight and switch on the light. Nothing else could explain this sense of desolation except his absence.

His duffel bag is nowhere in sight. In a twist, he did leave me his shirt, the Gino’s Pizzeria tee that I once begged him for and then returned. He’s laid it out on top of the comforter, covering me with it. Beside the shirt is a short note scrawled on a white paper bag from a gas station where he bought me candy weeks earlier during our clandestine road trip.

I’M SORRY. WAIT FOR ME.

Hurriedly, I pull the shirt on, not bothering with anything else since it reaches nearly to my knees. My hair is a fright and my feet are bare when I tear out through the bedroom door and run down the hall.

The front door is unlocked. Luca sits alone in a porch rocking chair with a mug of coffee. There’s no bright blue classic Impala parked in front of the house. There’s nothing but emptiness.

This feeling is no less painful than being hit in the chest. I’m aware that my brother-in-law’s sympathetic eyes are on me while I move to the corner of the porch and hug a thick pillar to stay upright.

“When did he leave?” I ask.

“About an hour ago,” Luca says. He clears his throat. “Sabrina, you should know he felt-”

“Be quiet,” I snap at him and then check my attitude. “Please, just let me be right now.”

“You got it,” Luca says and sighs. The rocking chair creaks against the painted floor of the porch.

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