Deep (Pagano Family #4)(94)

She peeked up from his shoulder and looked sidelong at him. “Why?”

“It’s a tradition in my world that only full-blooded Italian men can rise in the ranks. Half-blooded men can be made, but they can’t rise above soldati—soldiers. I thought someday I’d change that, but I won’t. So not even a Pagano could rise within the Pagano organization if he was half-blooded. I want my sons to find other paths. I don’t want this life for my children.”

Feeling giddy and weepy at the same time, she hugged him close and kissed his chest. “I love you so much.”

He laughed. “See? Was that so hard?”

She reached between them and wrapped a hand around his big, beautiful cock. “No. But this is.”

Spreading her legs to settle him more squarely between her thighs, she guided him close until he took over and pushed into her. She was still a bit sore from earlier, but it was one of her most favorite feelings, that shift from tender soreness to intense pleasure. As he began to thrust, staring down at her, she brought her legs up and around his waist and hooked her hands over his shoulders.

“Marry me soon, bella, he groaned.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes,” she panted before pleasure and joy made speech impossible.





23



On the November morning of their wedding, Nick woke feeling buoyant. He rolled over, intending to pull Beverly close and sleep a little longer. Or push her over onto her stomach and take her. Yeah, that was a much better idea. One more time before she was his wife.

But she wasn’t in bed. Disappointed, he sat up, and then he smelled coffee and something baking. Bread, maybe—no, something sweeter. He tossed the comforter back and grabbed his boxer briefs off the floor.

There had been a chill in the bedroom, but the rest of the apartment was warm. Beverly was in the kitchen, wearing her white robe open over an old nightshirt. He’d bought her lace and satin, silk, even some leather. And she’d worn it all, beautifully. But she loved her shabby, terrycloth robe and her ridiculous tshirts.

He’d come to find them sexy.

She looked up and saw him leaning on the hallway wall, watching her, and she smiled brightly. “Good morning! I just put cinnamon rolls in the oven.”

“Cinnamon rolls? How long have you been up?” He crossed the room and came into the kitchen.

“Um…since about three-thirty. I’ve only been baking for about half an hour. I did some thank you cards before that.” Gifts had started coming in more than a week ago. She hadn’t been able to wait to open them. The guestroom in his apartment was stacked with household goods.

“Bella.” He laughed and pulled her away from the sink, where she’d started to rinse her baking dishes. “We have a long day today. You need rest.”

They were getting married in the late afternoon, then a formal dinner and reception. There would be no casual, barefoot reception for his bride, and not only because it was November. He wanted this day celebrated for the wonder it was. Someday, she would be Donna Pagano. Today, she’d be his queen.

“I know. I’m too excited. But I’ll lie down for a little at your mom’s house.”

All the Pagano women and Beverly’s friend Skylar were meeting at his mother’s to get ready. Beverly’s mother had not returned phone calls or replied to her invitation.

Uncle Ben was walking Beverly down the aisle.

Nick was due at Uncle Ben’s, where the Pagano men were gathering. The tradition was to get the groom drunk, but the men would be disappointed in that endeavor today.

Her hair was caught back in a big plastic clip. He took the clip out and tossed it on the counter, then fluffed her waves over her shoulders. “See that you do. I don’t want you falling asleep in your wedding cake tonight. I have plans for you for later.”

“You do? What kind of plans?” She slid her hands up his bare chest, leaving tingling tracers of desire behind. He’d had a mind to f*ck his woman when he woke up, and he hadn’t changed that mind.

“Surprise plans. But I’m gonna need you wide awake to appreciate them. So promise me—a nap today.” He kissed her throat, sucking lightly until she moaned and curved into him.

“I promise.”

“Good. How long do those muffins bake?” He lifted her t-shirt and slid his hands over her smooth, warm skin.

“Rolls.”

“Whatever.”

“Forty minutes.” She kissed his chest, running her tongue across his pecs and down to flick back and forth on his left nipple.

With a harsh groan, he pushed his hands into her hair and pulled her head back. “That’s plenty of time. I want you back in bed. I can get you off at least three times before breakfast.”

Her eyes flared wide at that. “I thought you wanted me to be rested.”

“I do. I’m gonna make sure you take that nap later.” He picked her up and carried her back to bed.



oOo



Nick sat alone in a room off to the side of the nave at Christ the King. He was still a little buzzed, but not too much. He’d found himself much more amenable to all the toasting from his cousins than he’d expected. He was in a damn fine mood. And now he was waiting, alone.

He’d sent Matty, his best man, out because the * was driving him crazy, checking his pockets for the rings every fifteen seconds, like he was paranoid that Nick would slit is throat if he lost them.