Page 51 of Of Murder and Matrimony

Olesya glared at me over her shoulder, her face red and eyes watery and brilliantly blue. “What is up with you and spanking?”

“You can’t have an ass that gorgeous and expect me to ignore it.” I slid my hand under her dress and palmed the heated globes, soothing her. She sighed, and I slipped my fingers under her thong, feeling her slippery arousal. “And you like it, wife.”

“I’d like it better if you kissed me.”

If I wasn’t already leaking precum in my pants, that did it. I could have fucking tossed her on top of the table and kissed her entire body, devoured her for dinner. But I tried to act like a gentleman, pulling her up so she sat across my lap. “I can do that.”

Olesya leaned in as I stroked her soft hair, curling my hand around the back of her neck and holding her steady as our lips met and parted naturally, our tongues teasing and exploring. I lost myself in my wife, her breathless whimpers and sighs, the way her hips shifted in my lap.

“Oh, sorry!” The server’s entrance interrupted us, and I growled, turning my head and pinning the girl with a deadly look. The plates on her tray rattled.

“Stop being a grump.” Olesya squeezed my bicep. “Don’t scare the poor thing.”

She slid from my lap and back into her seat, busying herself with arranging her dress. She bowed her head so her flushed face was less noticeable.

“Come on, then.” I motioned for the server to bring the food.

She wordlessly complied and didn’t bother to ask if we needed anything else before nearly running from the room. She ran headlong into Diego, who caught her by the arms and patted her shoulder. It didn’t reassure the girl. If anything, she squeaked in terror.

Dinner was a silent affair. Olesya seemed too embarrassed to carry on a conversation, and I could think of little else than getting her home and finishing what we’d started. I nearly groaned with relief when she took her last bite and turned her fork over on her plate. I signaled to my men, and Filippo silently left to get the car.

“Dessert?” I asked, crossing my fingers under the table.

Olesya shook her head and patted her belly. “No, thanks. I’m full.”

Thank fuck.

“Let’s get out of here.” I stood and tossed cash on the table, more than enough to cover the meal and a generous tip.

“In a rush?” Olesya’s mischievous smile said she knew exactly what was on my mind. It was both disconcerting and a relief that I didn’t always have to share my thoughts with her.

I pulled out her chair and took her hand, bringing her flush against my chest and brushing my lips across hers. “I’m going to take you home and spend the night making sure you can’t walk straight tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she said, breathless. “We probably shouldn’t waste any more time then.”

I led her to the rear exit of the restaurant. When she looked at me questioningly, I explained, “Never enter and exit through the same door, if possible. It keeps our movements unpredictable.”

“Makes sense.” She tapped her chin as Stefano held the door open and let her go first. “But wouldn’t that be just as predictable to someone watching?”

I didn’t have time to think before gunshots rang out across the back lot. I dove for Olesya. “Get down!”

I rolled, taking the brunt of the force as I hit the pavement next to the SUV. A quick staccato of gunfire ensued, my men drawing their weapons as bullets pelted the restaurant’s brick side. I reached under my suit coat, unholstering my gun and crouching, trying to get a sense of where the threat was located.

“Stay there,” I ordered, waiting for her to nod before moving away from the SUV.

“Boss, no!” Diego called out the warning and launched himself in front of me as a gunman popped up from a dark grey sedan ten feet from us. I felt his body jolt as he took the hit meant for me. His momentum took us both to the ground, where he landed on me, his weight effectively pinning me in place.

“Talk to me, Diego!” I tried to feel where he was hit, and finally, my hand came away from his shoulder, covered with blood.

“I’m… good, boss,” he said, his words stilted.

I shook my head at his resolve. “No, you’re fucking not. You’re hit.”

I pulled my tie off and did my best to roll it up while holding my pistol. Diego watched with half-lidded eyes. I bit my cheek and pressed my lips together, sympathizing with him for what I was about to do. “This is going to fucking hurt.”

“Fuck!” Diego grunted as I pressed the silk hard against his shoulder. It wouldn’t stop the bleeding completely; I couldn’t get enough pressure on it with the layers of fabric and my angle. But it would slow the blood loss, at least.

He should have been with my wife, not having to take a bullet for me. I tilted my head, finding my guards focused on the men using the sedan as a shield. Behind them, Olesya crouched next to the rear tire of the SUV. I needed to get her in the car. It was armored and could keep her safer from ricochets.

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