Page 81 of DeLucas After Dark

Si, capisco – Yes, I understand

HOLIDAYS WITH THE DELUCAS

GIUSEPPE DELUCA

MICHELE DELUCA

BY IMANI JAY

Guseppe & Madeleine

This is the first Christmas Joey & Maddie share after their wedding.

MADELEINE

Christmas Day

I wake up with a gasped moan. My eyelids fly wide open, meeting nothing but darkness in the room surrounding me.

I went to bed alone. Sad and dejected. Wearing one of my husband’s shirts. My nose buried in his pillow, inhaling his scent. The intoxicating blend of woodsy cologne and his subtle masculine musk. Our large bed feeling cold and way too big for me alone. Nothing like the fun place we’d made it over the past year.

And now, I’m feeling the unmistakable rasp of a tongue I know like my own sliding through the wet, swollen folds of my pussy. The strong, masculine hands that could draw my body from memory, pining my wrists at my sides. The weight of the body I couldn’t confuse with any other, keeping my legs spread.

“Shhh, baby,” Joey coos. “Your man is fucking starved. I need you to be a good girl and let me feed.”

* * *

Christmas Eve

“I’m sorry, baby. I wish I was home, but this fucking weather…” Joey’s deep, rumbly voice resonates through my cellphone. He sounds tired and irritated. I’m happy to hear him, but the strain in this tone makes my heart squeeze.

I hold back a sigh. “It’s okay, honey. It’s not your fault. Just take care of yourself, and I’ll see you when you get back. Okay?”

“Okay, babe. I’ll keep you posted.” His sigh is heavy. My poor baby.

I nod, as if he could see me. “Bye, baby. I love you.”

“Love you, too, mia regina,” he rumbles softly before hanging up.

I stare at the silent device in my hand. Feeling my eyes well up with tears, I take in a deep breath.Don’t be a fucking baby, Maddie. It’s not his fault the airport is shut down.

Joey left California for a business trip to Boston a couple of days ago. I’m not supposed to know for what exactly, but I suspect a meet with the Irish. He was supposed to be back today, on Christmas Eve. But there was a snowstorm, and all flights -even private ones- are canceled. So here I am, alone, the night before Christmas.

It’s funny how reality and perception work. I was a loner for most of my life. All I had was my mother and very few friends. That was my reality. I wouldn’t say I was fine with it. But it certainly wasn’t my biggest concern. I had bigger fish to fry with my psycho father. I never cried or felt sad on the many Christmas Eves I spent with only my mom for company. But then everything changed. He changed everything. My tall, handsome, dark prince. Giuseppe DeLuca appeared out of my wildest dreams, slayed all my dragons, and swept me away to his enchanting castle. My Joey. My knight, who toes the line between light and shadows. I feel so blessed, so happy we were reunited. But this is our first Christmas as a married couple. In our home. I wanted it to be special. Perfect. I wanted my Joey all to myself. No work, no social obligations.

I know Joey’s parents are smiling down on us from the heavens. My mom and her husband, Callum, left the cold East Coast’s frigid winter to spend the holidays in their vacation home in the Seychelles.

I had everything prepared to the smallest details. The house looks amazing. A true winter wonderland. With soft, twinkling lights everywhere, holidays decorations all over. The fireplace in the vast family room glows and crackles, diffusing the comforting smell of oak. I have heavy candles burning all around, filling the air with enchanting scents. A jazz playlist resonates through the sound system. And the dining room table is decked out with an amazing holiday meal. Turkey roasted to perfection, creamy, buttery mashed potatoes, golden dinner rolls, a delicious gravy, homemade cranberry sauce. I have pies keeping warm in the oven. My favorite flavored sparkling apple cider chilling in a silver bucket. I spent days getting everything ready for tonight. All that for nothing.

I let out a deep sigh, store away the food, blow the candles, turn off the fireplace and oven.

I drag my feet, climbing up the spiral stairway to the first floor of our mansion. Our bedroom, en-suite bathroom, powder room, dressing rooms, offices and a small family room occupy the entire two-thousand square-foot floor.

Walking around the long marble table at the center of our dressing room, my toes digging into the plush carpet, I make my way to Joey’s side. The tips of my fingers glide over rows after rows of beautifully tailored suits, impeccably custom-made button-down shirts and neatly arranged silky ties. I fill my hands with buttery-soft fabric and bury my nose in Joey’s scent. It’s everywhere. Following my instruction, our sheets were not changed when Joey left for his trip. So his pillow and our entire bed smell of him. Dark, masculine, intoxicating, with a hint of his rich cologne and the lingering aroma of the thick Cubans my man favors.

I miss him so much, it’s as if the emotion pulsates inside me. Like a parasite living in my core. After one more deep inhale, I let my head drop back between my shoulders, blinking away more tears under the soft glow of the ceiling lights.Fucking get yourself together, Madeleine!

I shrug out of my deceptively casual, off-the-shoulders sweater dress, keeping my woolen thigh-highs on. He would have loved this outfit. When I picked it, I imagined the way his dark eyes would light up, dragging the length of my curves. How his powerful hands would feel squeezing my flesh. How the dress would end up on the floor in a heartbeat. How he’d demand I keep the thigh-highs on while he fucked me silly… I shrug into one of Joey’s shirts, leaving the buttons undone. If I’m going to be alone on Christmas Eve, the least I can do is make it a fun solo evening…

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