“We are. That’s not it. I just missed this… being responsible twenty-four seven is hard. I’m just looking forward to a taste of my old life.”
Luca chuckled. “Knock yourself out. These bikers think they are tough.” He motioned toward the back of the warehouse and walked ahead. Behind heaps of old tires, two guys, maybe in their early twenties, were bound to chairs. Someone had roughened them up a bit; busted lips, a few scratches here and there, and already forming bruises. Nothing major. Not yet.
I gave them a grin and pulled my knife from its holster.
Growl leaned against the bare stone wall to my left, inked arms crossed and that stoic expression on his face that belied his violent nature. He nodded my way and I returned the gesture but quickly focused my attention back to our two captives.
One look at them told me they weren’t the sharpest knives in the cupboard. That wasn’t a surprise. The MCs often scraped their recruits from the bottom of society.
I doubted these guys knew anything of worth about the men we really wanted to have intel on: Earl White and his nephew Maddox. But cutting them up and sending them back to the bikers sent them a message even those redneck idiots must understand at some point.
Luca leaned against the wall beside Growl. I wouldn’t argue if they wanted me to do all the work. I couldn’t wait.
I chose the bulkier, braver looking first. Usually I kept the hard nuts for last, but I was too eager to prolong the fun.
* * *
It was early evening when I came back home. I hadn’t stayed longer than necessary, not wanting to abandon Gianna. The penthouse was quiet and the lights were out. I set the takeout bags down on the kitchen counter and went in search of my wife and daughter.
Wife and daughter…
Who would have thought I’d ever have a small family?
Following a dim light into the bedroom, I found Gianna. She was curled up on her side on top of the covers in our bed, fast asleep. Isa was stretched out beside her, protected by Gianna’s body and a pillow. I walked over to them, and as if she could sense me, Isa opened her eyes and began squirming. Careful to be quiet, I picked her up and cradled her in my arms. I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
Dealing with the bikers had been fun, something I couldn’t live without, but returning home to Isa and Gianna, it was the peaceful harbor I now craved in a way I’d have never thought possible. I’d always made fun of Luca for his split personality: the loving father and husband, and the batshit crazy, brutal Capo, but I got it now.
Gianna stirred, rolling over onto her back and eyes fluttering open. She was in my sweats and T-shirt, looking completely disheveled. Slowly her gaze focused on me. “What time is it?”
“Almost eight,” I said. “I got sushi for us.”
She sat up. “You’re early. I thought you’d use your chance to have some freedom.”
She pushed to her feet with a groan. “Fuck, I feel old.”
I grinned. “I’m glad I won’t be the only one teaching Isa curse words.”
Gianna huffed and leaned against me. I bent down and kissed her but Isa interrupted us with a wail. “I think she’s hungry too. I’ll nurse her and then we can have sushi.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I handed Isa to Gianna before I headed back downstairs and set up the coffee table. Thirty minutes later Gianna came downstairs, dressed in shorts and a tank. Her belly was still slightly curved but she still looked sexy to me.
She sank down on the couch beside me. “You got me Kombucha?”
“Yep, your favorite brand.”
Gianna took a sip before she started digging in. After we were done, Gianna settled in my arm on the couch and we watched Walking Dead. I still didn’t understand why she had no trouble watching it considering her aversion to bloodshed. Judging by the silence of the baby monitor, Isa was soundly asleep.
I stroked Gianna’s thigh. We hadn’t shared any kind of intimacy in four weeks and I was slowly starting to get horny. Gianna hadn’t made a move yet, which was unusual. In the past, she’d been a very active partner, but of course I remembered Luca’s words.
She gave me a disbelieving look. “I don’t even remember the last time I shaved.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll find what I’m looking for.”
She let out an exasperated laugh. “You’re impossible.”
I shrugged. “I’m horny. You know how much you turn me on.”
Gianna searched my face. “I can’t believe I still turn you on. I definitely don’t feel sexy.”
“You’re always sexy to me. What about you? Are you in the mood for a little loving?”
Gianna grimaced. “My mind says yes, but every exhausted and healing part of my body says no.”
I kissed her temple and leaned back. “Whenever you feel ready, I’m here, waiting for you.”
Gianna relaxed back into my arm with a smile. “Sometimes I wish I could tell seventeen-year-old Gianna that you’re not as bad as she thinks.”
“Not as bad? That’s all you’d tell her?”
She nicked the skin at my neck. “Oh no, I’d tell her how amazing in bed you are, with your tongue and your cock and your fingers and every other part of your body as well.”
I groaned. “You’re torturing me.”
“It’s something we’re both good at.”
“You’re better at it, babe, much better.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Gianna
Matteo let out a low whistle. “You are sex on legs, aren’t you?”
I glanced toward the door, narrowing my eyes. He leaned in the doorway, tight white dress shirt hugging his abs and pecs, dark hair perfectly mussed up, and just overall male perfection.
He was sex on legs, the bastard. I, in comfy sweatpants that didn’t squeeze my poor frayed vagina, without makeup, unwashed hair and stains on my shirt where milk had leaked out of my stupid breasts was a full-blown nightmare. Three weeks since I’d given birth and I’d reached a low point. Matteo was back to working every day and I couldn’t deny it: I was envious.
Seeing his grin, I considered committing my first murder. I could probably make it look like self-defense. After all, Matteo was a notorious mobster. “Oh shut up, or I’ll throw the fucking milk bottle at your head.”
Matteo clucked his tongue. “No cussing around our precious offspring, or have you forgotten?”
I raised the milk bottle. I alternated between breastfeeding and milk from the bottle to give my poor nipples time to recuperate. I wasn’t sure if Isa was particularly bad at nursing or if my nipples weren’t made for mom-life. “Last warning.”
Isabella let out a wail and I let my arm sink with a quiet sigh. Matteo came in, kissed my temple and took our girl from me, cradling her in his arm. He took the bottle. “I’m taking over the rest of the night. Grab a couple of hours of sleep.”
At first, I’d felt bad because I couldn’t only breastfeed our daughter like Lily seemed to be doing with ease but now I was glad that she took the bottle and Matteo or Aria could feed her as well. “Are you sure? You must be tired,” I said despite the bone deep exhaustion in my body.
Matteo had been gone all night on some kind of business that he and Luca had to conduct and that usually didn’t mean anything good. Most of the time it involved risky attacks on outposts of the motorcycle club they were at war with.