Page 72 of Luciano

Saint drew my attention by slamming his hand down on my shoulder. “Aria’s coming up with your wife’s cousin,” he said. “And I need you to do that masking shit you do—whatever the fuck you call it—and apologize to her for what you said to her. Out of societal norms or whatever you say…”

I blinked once. “Why would I do that?”

“You made Aria cry. I don’t want to have to shoot you in the arm your wife didn’t, to prove to her I’m on her side. Just apologize.”

It was a strange request.

Seconds later, Aria walked in with Dewanda, all baby bump and attitude. Ava stood to greet them, but I caught her wrist and pulled her back into the bedroom before she could take another step.

“Luciano,” she said, startled, “what—”

“You can’t let people just come here,” I said evenly, closing the door behind us. “Even if it’s your cousin. Even if it’s my friend. Not without a conversation first. You want to remain safe?”

She looked up at me, exasperated. “It’s Saint and Dewanda. It’s fine. I need to socialize.”

I studied her for a moment. “Am I not enough?”

She paused. “Can I kiss you?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Can I kiss you?”

We’d been building up to this. Little touches. Shared moments. But we hadn’t kissed since our wedding.

“Yes,” I said.

She rose to her tip toes. Her lips touched mine. Lightly.It was nice. The second she slid her tongue in my mouth—I snapped. My hands moved to her waist. I pushed her toward the bed. My fingers pulled at her shirt. I needed it off of her.

“Luciano,” she whispered, breathless. “Calm down.”

tugged the shirt again.

She slapped my hand.

“There are people here. I just wanted to show you are enough.”

“I can tell them to leave.” My dick was so hard and leaking. I was suddenly more ready than I’d ever been.

She laughed, hand still on my chest. “No. I’m cooking dinner. We’re going to entertain.”

My jaw tensed. I blinked once. Then twice.

Entertain?

I glanced toward the bedroom door as if I could see beyond it, then back at her, my mouth tightening into a flat line. Every cell in my body rebelled against the concept. My eye twitched.

But I nodded—slow, reluctantly.

Because she wanted it. And that was starting to matter more than my discomfort.

She left the bedroom, humming under her breath. I took a few breaths, adjusted my sweatpants.

Saint and Dewanda were already settled on the couch. Aria was sprawled in one of the chairs like she owned the place. Of course she was.

I approached her slowly. She looked up. I could tell a scowl was about to over take her face.

“Saint told me to apologize,” I said, tone flat. “I didn’t mean to hurt you with the truth. I assumed you were stronger. I will adjust.”

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