I stare down at him, watching him as he feasts on my flesh. The closer he gets to my breasts, the faster my heart beats in anticipation of the pleasure his mouth will no doubt bring. When his tongue slides across the crest of my cleavage, I’m rendered breathless.

  All I can do is watch as he uses his teeth to drag the sides of my nightie down my shoulders, exposing my breasts. Inside, I’m chanting and cheering him on, wanting him to move faster, but stopping myself because the last thing I want to do is rush anything.

  I nearly come off the couch as his lips close around my nipple, sending electric shocks throughout my entire body. I gasp and moan, unable to stop myself from being vocal about the amount of pleasure his mouth is delivering.

  He smiles against my breast but doesn’t stop. He slides his hand up my side to my other breast before he cups me firmly in his palm.

  I’m enveloped by him, consumed by his touch.

  Nothing else matters.

  No one else exists except for the two of us.

  I close my eyes, letting myself feel every movement, every swipe of his tongue. A second later, his warmth is gone from my upper body, and he moves lower.

  “I need to taste you,” he whispers.

  If I wasn’t a goner before, I am now.

  He pushes my legs farther apart as he settles between them. His warm breath cascades across my skin as he lifts my nightie, pushing it up my belly and exposing all of me.

  The anticipation is almost too much. I’m breathing so fast, and my heart is beating so rapidly, I’d think I was mid-workout. But nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for the feel of his lips against my most sensitive skin.

  I rock toward him, my hips coming up off the couch, pushing my body toward him as an offering. He takes what he wants, and I do nothing to stop him. My mind goes blank, too consumed by pleasure to think about anything else.

  I tangle my fingers in his hair, holding him there, wanting and needing more. His tongue dances around my clit, flicking and circling as it drives me toward the edge of orgasm. My insides spasm, wanting to be filled, but I don’t dare stop him.

  I push my middle into him as he presses forward, burying his face in me. I’m lost in sensations, unable to stop my body from tightening as he delivers an orgasm I have no doubt will rob me of my ability to breathe.

  My legs tremble as he pulls my clit between his lips, sending me careening out of control. The orgasm rips through me, causing my body to shake and my lungs to cease to function.

  Every muscle in my body is rigid, like they’re too scared to move because the pleasure will evaporate. But no matter how hard I try to hold on to the feeling, it slips away. The air in my lungs returns, and my body goes limp underneath him. I’m spent and unable to move as I almost hyperventilate.

  Trace is next to me a moment later, curled into my side. He gently lifts the straps of my nightie back to my shoulders, covering my breasts.

  I move to sit up, but he pushes me back down. “Rest,” he says, pulling me tightly into his side, and I do as I’m told, closing my eyes.

  I sleep the deepest I’ve ever slept before, allowing myself a sliver of his peace.

  13

  TRACE

  Me: Are you okay?

  I shoot off the text before I peel my body out of my truck, hating that my scheduled week off has already passed.

  A little over a year ago, Gigi insisted that we institute a new policy at Inked—every employee is required to take a week off for our sanity and family. We cycle through, one-by-one, always in the same order. So far, it’s worked great.

  Luckily for me, or maybe unluckily, it happened to coincide with my kidnapping and subsequent marriage. If I was supposed to have been working, someone would’ve noticed I was missing. Maybe I would have been rescued before Ana came to me, making an offer I didn’t have the ability to refuse. But since no one was looking for me, I could’ve fallen off the face of the earth, and no one would’ve noticed until Sunday.

  I stare off into the distance, the cars moving by at high speed, nothing but a blur. The realization hits me harder than I ever imagined. No one would’ve noticed I was missing. Not for days, at least.

  My brothers can’t say the same. Their wives would’ve known within hours, maybe sooner because they seem to have an uncanny radar for when those two are doing something they shouldn’t be doing, which happens more often than they’ll admit. They don’t have the ability to disappear for half a day without someone, specifically Arlo and Rebel, noticing their absence.

  Even if their women didn’t notice, they would notice something was off about the other. They say it’s a twin thing. Those two have been stuck together like glue for as long as I can remember. I have always been the third wheel and odd man out.

  Ana: I’m fine. Stop worrying. Go to work.

  Me: I’ll text you later to check on you.

  Ana: You don’t have to.

  Me: I want to.

  I stare at the screen.

  I want to.

  What in the actual fuck?

  I can’t remember wanting to check on anyone I wasn’t related to before. No one else mattered, and that’s how I’ve always wanted things to be. I made clear my lack of expectations when seeing someone and my desire to keep everything physical without the complications of a relationship. But with Ana…

  The door to the shop opens, and Rocco steps out, eyeing me. “Who killed your puppy?”

  “What?” I stuff my phone into my back pocket, unable to meet my brother’s eyes.

  “Your face, man. That’s not a look I see on it often.”

  “My face is my face.” I take a step forward, but he puts out his meaty hand and stops me.

  “First, you disappear for a weekend. Then, Mom and Dad are acting weird. Then I find out you got hitched, and now, you look pissed.” He pauses, and I can feel the heated weight of his gaze. “Or maybe you’re freaked out. Does this have something to do with that punk-ass kid from Miami again?”

  I let out a long, deep sigh. “I’m freaking out a little, is all.”

  “Ahh. Ana,” he says, dropping his hand from my chest. “I can see it all over your face. It’s like you’ve seen a glimpse into your future, and it freaks you the fuck out.”

  I tip my head back, letting my gaze meet his. “Am I that easy to read?”

  “It’s a look I know well. I’ve seen it a million times, brother. I’ve been waiting to see it on you for ages, but you held pretty damn firm and were overly committed to not getting attached.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut as my stomach turns. “I tried like hell,” I whisper.

  Rocco crosses his arms, staring down at me with pride, and I hate every minute of it. “She really the one? The one you’re going to marry?”

  That’s an awkward question with an even more awkward answer. I’m already married, but when I said my vows, I never thought we had the ability to be anything more than a bump in my life timeline. But now…now… Fuck.

  The door opens behind Rocco, and Carmello stalks out, staring at the two of us like we’re purposely leaving him out of something. “What the fuck?” he says, his eyes moving between us. “Having a meeting without me?”

  I roll my eyes. He’s such a baby sometimes. If anyone is left out, it’s always me. “I was just trying to go into work, but Rocco stopped me. We’re not having a meeting without you, dumbass.”

  Rocco waves a hand at me, looking over his shoulder at Carmello. “Trying to figure out why his face is uglier than usual.”

  Carm nods. “Sure as fuck is.”

  “Figure I’d nip that shit in the bud before we got too busy. Do a check-in on the little guy.”

  I roll my eyes and crack my neck, resisting the urge to pop either one of them in the jaw. “Are we done here?” I ask, ready to blow by them.

  “Nope,” Rocco clips out, but he goes back to looking at Carm. “He’s in love with her.”

  “I’m not in love,” I snap.

  Rocco laughs before bringing his imposing gaze back to me. “You’re not?”

  I shake my head. “It’s only been a few days.”

  “When you know, you know,” Carm says. “It’s that easy. Shit gets you by the balls, and there’s no getting away from it.”

  “I was just asking him if she’s really the one,” Rocco tells him. “I know it didn’t happen under the best circumstances, but I’m guessing, based on the look on his face, she’s sticking.”

  Carm’s smile grows wider. “Well, is she?”

  I shrug. “It’s complicated.”

  “Pussy is always complicated,” Carm says with a slow nod. “Never easy, li’l bro, but nothing worth having ever is.”

  “It’s not a small complication. It’s huge,” I tell them.

  “You’ve always been dramatic.” Rocco rolls his eyes. “Just spit it out. Plain and simple.”

  If anyone is dramatic, it’s the muscle twins. They’ve been nothing but drama since they grew hair on their balls. I have kept my life as drama-free as possible. If anything, I’ve instigated a lot of shit, but I’ve never dwelled in the drama like they often do.

  “What are you three talking about?” Nick asks, looking between us with a raised eyebrow.

  I stare at them, knowing damn well this is an awful idea, but I have to tell people eventually. Even if Ana and I don’t stay together, people are going to find out some shit is up. “Fine,” I growl. “I married a chick on Friday—a quickie thing—she’s also the sister of the asshole I punched at the poker game, a dude who’s also the kid of the biggest crime boss in Miami.”

  “She knocked up?” Nick asks.

  “Don’t you have a job or anywhere else to be but here?” I ask Nick, unable to stop my glare.

  “Fuck you,” Nick snarls with his lip curled. “I’m headed there in a bit, asshole.”

  “You’re a dumbass, Nicky,” Carmello mumbles and shakes his head.

  They’re judging me, but I don’t give a shit anymore, so I keep on rolling. I feel a sense of relief as I speak the words, like a weight is being lifted off my back or a deep secret is finally coming to light.

  “You’re fucking with us now, right?” Nick whispers.

  I shake my head. “Dead serious.”

  Nick blinks a few times. “You’re fucking lying. Some things are funny, but that bunch of rambling you just did isn’t fucking making me laugh.”

  “No fucking kidding about any of it,” I tell them without any facial expression. “I’ll let you chew on that shit while I get ready for my first client. I ain’t talking anymore about it for the rest of the day. You wanna know more, you catch me after work. I have enough shit to deal with right now,” I say, brushing past them as they stand outside the shop, looking more like statues than people.

  “What in the fu—” is all I hear before the door closes behind me.

  “Mornin’,” my cousin Gigi says as I make my way through the waiting room.

  “Hey,” I tell her with a dip of my chin.

  Her gaze moves to my brothers and Nick as they stand outside the glass storefront, having a heated conversation about the news I dropped on them. “What’s that about?”

  “You know those three,” I say and shrug.

  “They’re drama llamas,” she murmurs as she slides around some sheets of paper on the counter. “We missed you yesterday.”

  A knot forms in my stomach. “Sorry about that. You know I never miss dinner.”

  “I know,” she says. “Must’ve had a good reason.”

  She’s fishing. My cousin always is. Not just her, but all of them. They’re the nosiest bunch of assholes, but they’re my assholes. Not a single person is good at keeping a secret in this family, and based on the way she made that statement, I think my mother didn’t have the ability to keep my current situation to herself.

  “What do you know?” I ask Gigi.

  She lifts her hands. “It’s not my business. You’ll tell me when you’re ready to tell me.”

  “My mother couldn’t keep my marriage a secret for one damn day,” I say softly, holding back a streak of anger.

  Gigi gasps as her eyes widen. “Marriage? What in the…”

  “Fuck,” I bark, closing my eyes.

  “Your mom didn’t say anything. I was fishing and, honey, you bit that hook like you were a fish needing a meal. Hook, line, and sinker. But what in the world? You’re married?” Gigi moves to the end of the counter where I’m standing, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole. “Tell me everything.”

  “What’s going on?” Lily, another of my cousins, and the sweetest one of the bunch, asks as she walks into the front of Inked from the work area.

  Here we go.

  I mentally brace myself for the emotional beating the entire family that’s here today is about to give, starting with Lily and Gigi, along with my dipshit twin brothers.

  The bell above the door chimes, and I close my eyes.

  “You drop that bomb and walk away?” Nick asks from behind me.

  “What did he say to you?” Gigi asks Nick.

  “Some shit about being married.”

  Now it’s Lily’s turn to gasp, but she does it with more flair and staggers backward. “Oh my God,” she whispers, covering her mouth with one hand.

  “He’s telling the truth,” Carmello tells Gigi, Lily, and Nick.

  “No way,” Gigi says, but her voice drops off at the end of the statement. “I don’t know what to believe, but I’ve never known Trace to be a liar.”

  “Who the heck did he marry?” Lily asks them and not me. “And why?”

  “I’m right here, you know,” I grumble, glancing around the waiting room at them. “I can hear you. You can ask me instead of talking to each other like I’m not in the same room.”

  “Tell them.” Rocco ticks his chin in their direction.

  “I don’t have time,” I tell him, seeing my client making her way through the parking lot. “Later.”

  Gigi spots her too. “Damn customers,” she mumbles. “I have so many questions. Soooooo many questions.”

  When my client walks in, she stops dead in her tracks. “Is something wrong?” she asks me.

  “No, Carla. We’re just talking. You ready to get started?” I ask her with a smile, feeling so much relief.

  “I’ve been ready for weeks. Let’s do this,” she says, walking through the room and past my brothers.

  When we make it to the back room, she kicks off her sandals before making herself comfortable in the chair. “That was intense.”

  I sit down next to her, moving my stool closer to her. “Just family drama.”

  “I think it’s cool that you work with your family. I envy you. Mine lives in another state, and I miss them terribly.”

  “I can’t imagine.” And I can’t. Living hundreds of miles away from my family would be damn near impossible for me. It would be quiet, but the peace would get old after a very short amount of time.

  “You’re really lucky, Trace.”

  “I know,” I reaffirm, and I know I am, even though right now I want them to leave me the hell alone. “But sometimes it would be nice if they’d mind their own business.”

  She giggles. “Family never does. It’s their job.”

  “They work too much overtime,” I mutter.

  Carla smacks my arm playfully because we’ve known each other for years. “Oh, stop. Trust me. You have it made. I swear, I could fall off the face of the earth, and it would take my family a solid month before they’d even realize something might be wrong. I’d switch shoes in a hot minute.”

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” Tamara says from the waiting room, her voice so loud she could wake the dead.

  What in the hell is she doing here? She doesn’t even work at Inked, but that doesn’t stop her from popping in all the time. She may as well move her design office into the back room, because I swear she spends more time here than at her own auto shop.

  “Where is he?”

  I give Carla a worried smile. “Brace yourself. It’s about to get rocky,” I tell her.

  Tamara marches into the customer area, ready to make a scene—and a scene she always makes. “You’re married?” Her eyes are on me, only on me.

  “Yep,” I bite out, focusing on Carla instead of my cousin.

  “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

  “Not now.”

  “After work. Drinks. Usual place,” she tells me.

  “Whatever,” is my answer.

  “If you don’t show up, we’ll hunt you down,” Tamara informs me before turning on her heel and marching off.

  “She’s intense.”

  “You have no idea,” I tell Carla.

  “Well, we better get this started. Looks like you have plans this evening and a lot of explaining to do. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks,” I say, busying myself with the final prep work. “Let’s get this bad boy in place.” I grab the design, ready to position it. “Ready?”

  “I’m ready for the pain,” she says, fidgeting in the chair. “Nothing worth having comes without discomfort.”

  “No truer words,” I say, losing myself in my work for a few hours before the Gallo inquisition begins.

  14

  TRACE

  “Let’s go,” Gigi says, grabbing me by the arm as I try to sneak out the back door of Inked.

  They’ve been waiting around while I dragged my feet, hoping to avoid the unofficial family meeting at the bar. “Come on, Gigi. I need to get home. I’m tired.”

  She drags me toward her car. “We’re all tired.”

  I dig my soles of my shoes into the cement, stopping my movement. “Fine, I’ll go. But I’m not getting in a car with you.”

  She places her hand on her hip, throwing all kinds of attitude as she raises her chin. “And why not?”

  I point at the dent in the right side of her Jeep. “You tend to hit things, and I’d rather not be with you when you do.”