Page 37 of Resurfaced Passion
“No, but he’s had men over at the house lately, so I’m not going to be too surprised if he presents me with a wedding gown, Gian. Daddy only knows one way and that’s his way.”
The man was alobo. A wolf in Gucci clothing. And a fucking sly one at that.
Fuck. Fucking Mary Madonna. Pain hurt his chest in fast zips.
“Listen to me. I won’t let it get that far,sí? You trust me?”
“Always.” She breathed and Capone felt every one of the miles separating them. “Did you … did you remember Santiago’s birthday yesterday? I wanted to call you.”
“Sí.”
“What am I saying. Of course you did, sorry. I wanted to call you, Gi.” There was so much in her voice that he could hear she wanted to say and fuck in heaven, he nearly bit his tongue in half before he begged her to say it all and end this tension.
They’d fucked up and it was time to let it go.
If only he could.
Silence weighed thickly.
He called to check on her and to make sure she was okay and didn’t need anything, but the longer he sat there he knew he just wanted to listen to her.
“I should—I better let you go and do all your important biker things,” she chuckled lightly. “I wish you’d let me—”
He cut her off, unable to hear the rest of those words because he was a weak fucking man where beautiful blonde Lucia was concerned. “Let me know if there’s anything you need, Lucia.”
He felt her sigh sting his skin like bees. “Yeah, you take care, Giancarlo, and have a good week. Talk soon?”
“Yeah,” he cleared the frog away. “Sí, same time next week. Take care,mi corazón. Adiós.”
His shoulders felt fifty pounds heavier when he hung up and let his head drop over his neck. Fucking hell, it never got easier talking to her and he suspected it never would.
But now he had the added worry of her father shipping her off to the highest geriatric bidder.
“Whoa, I think I felt the sexual tension from here, big guy. Who was that, your baby mama?” Ellie chuckled and brought him back to the present, thank god. Now the call was over he lifted her easily and deposited her on the couch beside him, running two hands over his skull, he needed a drink so bad.
“No, she’s my sister in law. Or was.” He blurted.
“Damn. Really? I don’t mean to talk out of turn, but you sounded like you were in pain or wanted to like … fuck her down the phone, Capone. I nearly had an orgasm listening to your throat get all thick the way it did, it was seriously hot.”
His voice changed when he spoke to Lucia? He side-smiled at the girl, a silent gratitude for her presence.
“It’s not like that.” And for the life of him he didn’t know why he went on talking, because the only one to know it all was Gia, who he spoke to regularly as a sort of grief counseling. “Lucia married my younger brother and on the day of his funeral I fucked her.”
Ellie’s baby blue eyes widened, and her jaw dropped.
That day was etched so far deep into his mind and skin he could still taste her cries of pleasure as he rammed her up the bed and on the floor and in the shower until she was covered in his come and hoarse from screaming his name.
His name.
Not Santiago’s.
Fuck, the things he’d done to the sweet widow for those few hours, he should be castrated, hung and left for the vultures to peck on.
He’d never had sex like it before. Or since.
It had consumed Capone like an out of control blaze until all that was left was his ash and his guilt staining what was left of a man who had lost everything in one fell swoop.
His whole family gone, and he’d lost himself in her body.
