DeLuca (Mafia Romance)

82



Enzo

Present

For the second time, and hopefully not the last, I woke up with the woman I loved plastered to my side. Being with her again felt right. I had missed her, but I didn’t realize how much until I finally got her in my arms again.

There were still things we needed to figure out, but we had time. I wasn’t going anywhere and I sure as hell wasn’t letting her go again. We needed to find out who the stalker was and be done with it.

I laid in the morning sun staring at the ceiling and racking my brain for clues about who this guy could be, and the same as every other time, I came up with nothing. I was missing something; I just didn’t know what. Maybe there was something she hadn’t thought to tell us about. There had to be something this guy left behind, a clue to who he was, no one was a ghost.

Frankie stirred next to me and I shifted to get a better look at her.

“Good morning,” I said smiling down at her.

“What time is it,” she asked groggily.

“We’ve got time before we have to get up,” I said reaching for her.

“I asked you what time it was, not whether we had time for round three,” she grumbled into the pillow.

Apparently I haven’t fucked the snark out of her yet.

“It’s six, and it would be round four, not three.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. You should probably try harder next time,” she said propping her head up with a hand.

I growled and launched myself at her, rolling us both so she was pinned beneath me. She screamed and pretended to struggle but she was laughing so hard it wasn’t much of a fight before I had her wrists caught in my much bigger hands above her head.

“Try harder, huh?” I teased, running my nose up the length of her neck before kissing the spot just below her ear and making her squirm.

“It’s okay,” she breathed. “You’re just kind of rusty; I’m sure you’ll get better.”Belongs to © n0velDrama.Org.

“Is that so? Is that why I had you screaming my name-what was it-five or six times last night?” I asked securing her wrists in one hand so the other could roam her body.

“I’m good at f-faking,” she stumbled on the last word, still trying to keep up the charade as my free hand hitched her knee up around my hip.

“Liar. I know your body better than you do. You couldn’t fool me if you tried,” I whispered, my words ghosting over her breast before I dipped my head and took one peak into my mouth.

Frankie let out a cross between a squeak and a moan, arching her back and pushing herself closer to me. “Kind of cocky, don’t you think?”

“Hmm,” I groaned, releasing her nipple. “Confident, not cocky,” I said before rolling off her and climbing out of the bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked sitting up. Her hair was a nest of tangles around her face, black makeup smudged beneath her eyes. She looked like a mess, but she was still beautiful. It almost made me want to crawl back into bed and show her just how well I knew her body. Almost.

“We have to get ready for work,” I said with a smirk and started towards the bathroom.

“Cocksucker,” she muttered just before I felt a pillow hit the back of my head.

I laughed and chucked the pillow back at her. “After last night, I’m pretty sure that title belongs to you,” I called over my shoulder, making it into the bathroom just in time to escape the next pillow being hurled my way.

I flipped on the tap in the shower and waited for it to heat up as I pulled a towel from the cabinet. When I turned back to the shower I caught Frankie’s backside just as she slipped into the glass stall before closing the door.

“Thanks for heating up the water for me,” she called out, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Things were okay. There wasn’t any of the awkwardness that had been there before; it was just us. My laughter died in my throat when I saw her silhouette arch to wet her hair through the frosted glass. Before I even registered what I was doing, I pulled open the door and slipped in behind her.

So much for making her wait for it.

“Dinner two nights in a row? I could get used to this,” I said coming up behind her to see what she was cooking.

“Shut up,” she said, slapping my hand away when I made to pluck a tomato out of the salad bowl.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” I said trying to keep my voice from giving away my nervousness. We hadn’t talked about it last night and I was suddenly terrified.

“You with the talking,” she teased with a wave of her hand.

“I need you to be serious for a second,” I said turning her to face me. Her eyebrows knit in confusion and a little frown pulled at the corners of her mouth.

“What is it?”

“Last night, we didn’t. I mean, I didn’t use anything. I guess I just want to know…” I trailed off. I’d never had to have the conversation before because I’d never forgotten protection, but with Frankie it hadn’t even occurred to me.

I clocked the moment she realized what I was asking because her jaw clenched and her eyes went hard.

“We’re fine, I’m covered,” she said turning back to the stove.

What the hell?

“Hey,” I said gently guiding her back towards me. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she replied, giving me a thin smile before her eyes wandered to anything and everything but my face.

“It’s not nothing. Something’s bothering you,” I said, taking her chin and forcing her gaze back to me.

“I just didn’t think about it either. Kind of unbelievable actually,” she scoffed.

“It was intense-not a lot of time to think-but I’m clean just so you know,” I said hesitantly. I wasn’t sure what was going on in that head of hers but I wanted to give her whatever peace of mind I could.

She laughed. “Yeah I didn’t doubt that, but either way it’s too late now. We can fill our penicillin prescriptions together. Maybe the pharmacy offers a twofer.”

“What?”

“I’m kidding, relax. We’re all good. Now for the real question,” she said looking straight at me with a serious expression.

“And that is?”

“Mashed potatoes or rice with your chicken?”

“Jesus,” I breathed out, shaking my head at her antics.

She laughed and turned me around by the shoulders. “Now go take a shower while I finish dinner. You’re all sweaty from your workout.”

“I thought you liked me sweaty?” I asked as she gave me a shove in the direction of the hallway.

“I do, just not when I’m eating.”

“There’s a joke in there somewhere,” I called out and ducked into the hallway before she had a chance to throw something at my head.

That night I laid awake replaying in my head our conversation from earlier. Something had bothered her, and despite my efforts she wouldn’t tell me what it was. Just kept brushing it off as nothing, but there was something she wasn’t saying, I just didn’t know what it was.


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