Sweet One (Titan Book 8) Page 8

Bianca blinked, her eyelashes going rapid fire.

  “I’m going to take my hands off you now. Don’t run, sunshine. I have something to ask you.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, voice shaking. She looked terrified.

  “Is it fear of losing the drugs, or were you hurt when you tried to go home?”

  The rapid blinking stopped, and her eyeballs nearly popped out of her head. “How, um, I…”

  Cash reached into his pocket, pulling out a business card for Titan Group. “If you don’t take me up on what I’m about to offer, call this number, day or night, and you will have help.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m the American named Cash.” He flashed his smile and winked. “Walk out with me. We’re getting on a plane. Your parents are waiting for you, and there’s a way to get through the shakes, sweats, and pukes without having to deal with detox.”

  “Bullshit,” she whispered.

  “There are also…” He stretched, gently nodding his head. “Two of my men in here and several outside. No one can stop you if you decide it’s time to go home, that you’re done with this shitty cantina and snorting away your life.”

  She cringed.

  “I know it feels good at that moment, sunshine. That you crave it. Taste it. Want it. Need it.”

  Her eyes watered.

  “Can’t live without it.”

  She nodded.

  He put his hand on the bar. “But you can sure as fuck try.”

  Bianca stared at his hand as though it were green and gross.

  “Grab on, sunshine. I’m your ticket to tomorrow.”

  She didn’t move.

  “Take a breath and do it.”

  One little, teeny-tiny breath came before a cold, bony hand landed in his much larger one. “That’s my girl.” Cash curled his fingers around hers. “Time to get you home.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Shaking knees weren’t Nicola’s thing. Picking imaginary lint off her shirt, fidgeting, or nodding on the phone when no one could see her—those were her things. But she had an iron rod for a backbone and impenetrable courage. Having wobbly spaghetti legs was a new thing. So was standing in front of Emilio Gianori Junior, the man who had ordered a hit on her—knowing she was with child.

  The fucker. Her knees stopped shaking. Those nerves could be expected, but they were gone. The reminder that he wanted to murder her baby made them a distant memory. “You wanted to see me, so now you’ve seen me.”

  “You’ve become quite the little force to be reckoned with, haven’t you, Mrs. Garrison?”

  Nicola took a step forward. Jared and Cash, who had flanked her, remained in place. “When I was in college, that was a shitty situation of wrong place, wrong time. That sucked, if there ever was such a reason to use such a basic, all-encompassing word.” She took another step forward. “But I didn’t ask for what happened to me. I didn’t go after you—I didn’t want that. I did what I did to stay alive. I left my family, my loved ones, my life to stay away from you.” She spun on her heel, exaggerating her out-thrown arms. “Now look. It’s still on me, all because one college kid saw more than she should. This is over.”

  Emilio’s dark eyebrows pinched. “You think so.”

  “You have Bianca,” Nicola said. “Blood for blood. But this time, the blood’s alive, and it will stay that way. She’s a smart girl. She might not jump into your family business, but you have a live, healthy, eventually drug-free niece.”

  Emilio’s gaze went to Jared. “A marker for a marker. Your girl for our girl, and our business is done. We want our man back.”

  “And that military rat as well,” Boss Man offered. “We don’t want him. You take him, or the cops get him.”

  Emilio rubbed the back of his neck. “Billy Tway. What a headache. Even with a babysitter, that man… yes. Both of them back. Is that our deal?”

  “Affirmative,” Jared agreed. “With all the Gianori family. Done. Forever.”

  Emilio nodded, agreeing with Jared. “Fine.”

  “Stay it to my face,” Nicola demanded.

  Surprise marred the mob boss’s clean-cut Italian good looks.

  Cash chuckled like an asshole, antagonizing the situation on Nicola’s behalf. It made her smile on the inside, but outwardly, her gaze could laser cut a Mafioso’s balls off. “Tell me.”

  His lip snarled. “Live blood for live blood. A Bianca for a Nicola. You’re an unmarked woman, Mrs. Garrison. Feel free to breathe easy.”

  Fucker. She forced a snarling grin and, without a word, walked out the door, leaving the menfolk to go kill each other for all she cared. Not that a single Titan man would die that day.

  ***

  “Hang tight a second.” Jared veered off into a storefront as he and Cash ambled away from Vito’s and their meeting with Gianori.

  Still on an adrenaline rush and proud from seeing Nicola face off with a Mafioso asshole, he didn’t notice as they entered the store and the world around them transformed. The lights were bright, the sounds were lyrical, and colors came from everywhere.

  Cash shuffled to a stop in a… toy store. “What are we doing?”

  Jared’s face pinched. “Asal needs something. Whenever we’re on the road in a civilized country, she gets a…” Boss Man gestured. “Thing. Book. Toy. Ribbon that goes in her hair. Stuff like that.”

  Cash knew he gaped but couldn’t help it, and Jared didn’t seem to notice or care but just went about his business. That big, bad motherfucker of a man was twirling a carousel of hair ribbons. “Holy hell,” Cash whispered to himself.

  But at the same time, he had an instantaneous pang. It wasn’t jealousy. It was something else. Not a sense of parity—Asal was in grade school, and his child wasn’t even born yet. But if Nicola weren’t pregnant, would Jared have made this pit stop with Cash in tow? They’d worked together for years, and Cash had never known this was a thing.

  “Dude, don’t stand there with your eyes bugging out,” Jared grumbled. “Someone’s going to think you’re a pervert, and I’ll have to explain to Nic why you’re in jail.”

  Okay… a boutique toy store. Not a big deal. He’d looked at baby-registry stuff with Nicola on a computer. This was going to be a something he did fairly often. But he still felt like a fake, as if he needed to prove that he was allowed to shop there. He needed to wear a sign that said: “It’s okay. I’m allowed in here. I’m going to be a dad.”

  He did kind of have something like that in his pocket. They’d gone for a sonogram, where everything was measured and Nicola was poked and prodded. Deciding against learning the baby’s sex, they had a fallback plan, just in case, and that was in his back pocket—a sonogram and a note from the tech as to whether the baby was a boy or girl.

  Until that moment, Cash had not been tempted to know. But now he saw thousands of fabulous things that one might buy a baby. Some were androgynous, but others were very feminine or masculine. His mind reeled.

  Cash wandered the stacks of stuffed animals and trains, the ribbons and dresses, the make-believe world, and rows of bedtime books. He was awestruck. In the last five minutes, becoming a daddy had become even more real, and part of him wanted to run to wherever Nicola was and drag her back here to show her all the cool things.

  He ran his fingers over a blanket, and the softness was unlike anything he’d ever felt.

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  Cash jumped, yanked out of his thoughts and ready to pull out the sonogram and prove he was allowed in there. “Just looking.”

  “It’s our best baby blanket.”

  His baby deserved the best. “It’s nice.”

  “Are you interested in it?”

  Well, no shit; of course she’d ask that since he was manhandling the shit out of it. “I’m here with a friend. The best?”

  She nodded.

  “My baby isn’t here yet.”

  The woman beamed. “Congratulations. Boy or girl?”

  A grin he couldn’t stop formed. �
��We don’t know.”

  “That’s fun! When’s your wife due?”

  “January.”

  “Those come monogrammed. Do you have names picked?”

  God, names. Should they have names picked out already? Were they so busy staying alive and recovering that he and Nicola had screwed up some unmentioned timeline—

  “It’s still early.”

  Cash took a deep breath.

  “You’re a first-time father?”

  “That evident, huh?” He wasn’t used to being read so easily. Showing his emotions was not his thing.

  “Well, if you ever decide to get the blanket, you can call us, and we can mail it to you. How about that?”

  His mind turned. No name. No gender. He needed something to surprise his sweet girl with. Nicola had earned it, and did they have, like, white blankets that were the best? Or the baby… a nickname… “What if…”

  She waited.

  The last few weeks of recovery from TBI had gone well, but still, something was on the tip of his tongue, and it wouldn’t come. Finally, his eyes closed. “I have the gender in an envelope.” He reached for his wallet. “I want the blanket. Pink, blue, whichever. You look in here.” He shoved the paper in her hand. “And whatever it says, do that. Don’t tell me.” Cash pinched his eyes closed, knowing that there was more. What was it? God. Like, on the tip of his tongue, something he wanted to say but couldn’t. Then it came. He took a deep breath, relieved, knowing that it totally worked. “And no initials. Monogram sweet one on the blanket.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Seriously, has it always been this cold in Virginia?” Nicola unwrapped the scarf from her neck. “I don’t remember that.”

  “Maybe you’re just thin-skinned.”

  She swatted Cash with the end of her scarf. “Hey.”

  “I meant, you literally have stretched yourself to the point that you are thin-skinned.” He laughed.

  “You’re terrible!” She wrapped her arms around his frozen neck and kissed his equally chilled lips. “And you’re cold.”

  “Warm me up, sweet girl.”

  “That’s your line?” She kissed him again.

  He laughed, unbuttoning her jacket for her. “I thought you and I were a sure thing.”

  “Handsome, I’m nearly nine months pregnant. Nothing’s a sure thing”—she pretended to pull away from him—“except maybe a nap. I think I’ll—”

  Cash latched onto her neck, more making her laugh than turning her on. “You’re awful! Oh my God! Cash, stop! I’m gonna pee!”

  He erupted into laughter. “Hot, baby. Crazy, fuckin’ hot.”

  Nicola rolled her eyes, still laughing, fortunately not peeing. When the baby might show up at any second, she wasn’t joking all that much. “Whatever.”

  Cash dropped his jacket on the floor and pushed hers there too. Hand in hand, he led her to the living room, flipped the switch for the gas fireplace, and came at her with a predatory hunger she hadn’t seen in weeks. It made her insides flip. “I’m not sure I’m up to whatever is going on in that devious mind of yours.”

  “I have a plan.”

  “I’ll sink in the couch.” Damn, there was that lazy-boy smile. Instantly, she was turned on just by the look because that smile said he wanted to dole out orgasms. That smile was a giving smile. It was great. “I might crush you if—”

  “Sweet girl, shut your mouth if you’re going to keep going like that.” He cupped her cheeks and let his lips linger before he kissed her lightly. “Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Let me play. It will be fun.”

  God… she thought about what happened when Cash played. “Whatever you say.”

  In the middle of the living room, he stripped her naked—big tummy, heavy breasts. If she could see her feet without obviously leaning and sticking out her leg, they’d be swollen. There was definitely a varicose vein or two. Or twelve. Whatever; she couldn’t see them. Why count?

  But wow—there was her husband, drinking in the sight of her naked, his erection jutting in his pants. “Cash?”

  “I am so fucking lucky you are mine.”

  Every day, he took her breath away. “I love you.”

  He stripped off his shirt, nodding. “Love you too.”

  Nicola watched the mesmerizing action of him slowly unbuckling his belt, unsnapping his jeans, and kicking his shoes and clothes away.

  The late-winter sun was fading the sky’s light to a purple glow. It reflected off the snow in the great windows, casting him a perfect shadow as he came over and rested his hands on her biceps.

  The simple action made shivers erupt all over her body. His mouth went to her neck, and his hands explored her breasts. Her clit begged for friction, and Nicola began to moan, sliding her thigh back and forth, shifting as she stood, wrapping her hands around his thick cock, and stroking him at a slow pace as he languidly kissed her body.

  Cash kissed down her arm, sliding his tongue along the inside of her forearm, making her wet and needy. He kissed the palm of one hand while his fingers intertwined with the other.

  “That feels so good.” She sighed.

  He kissed pressure points, licking them, teasing them—just enough pressure, a little hard then so soft.

  Nicola could’ve been floating as his fingers stroked between her legs. His thumb gently patted on her clit as his elbow widened her stance, and carefully, he opened her folds with a steady, rhythmic touch. “Easy, sweet girl.”

  Her arms hung loose, and her head dropped back.

  “That’s right where I want you.” Cash guided her, and she was moving, but really, she was drifting, somehow walking, teetering on the edge of an earthquake-sized orgasm that was so damn gentle. With the fireplace right next to them, they stood in front of the large picture window and wood ledge, overlooking the purple-looking snow. Just them and God’s country.

  Cash came behind her, widening her legs by running his fingers along the inside of her thighs. “Good?”

  “Yes.” One half of her was cold, and the other felt the heat of the fire. Cash’s strength and body enveloped her.

  He positioned his erection against her waiting entrance, holding himself steady. His breath hitched. “Good still?”

  She nodded. The intrusion was bliss. “Yes. Heaven.”

  Cash inched in, growling and taking his time. Nicola arched and moaned, having him pause and urging him on. There was so much pressure in the most excellent and overwhelming way. “Give me a second?”

  “Of course.” He rested his lips against the back of her neck.

  “I need… something.”

  His tongue licked, and damn, she could feel that straight to her toes. Her vagina squeezed around his cock, and he shifted, groaning, maybe trying not to thrust.

  “More, Cash.” This was so good, but she just had to ease into it. Everything felt like too much, as if she could explode from orgasm or just combust.

  He reached around and massaging her clit. Nicola hissed in approval, unable to even mumble thanks. Her hips flexed, and his did too, drawing out, just an inch, and thrusting in.

  “Oh, that’s amazing.”

  He sucked on her neck and thrust into her again. The rhythm was earth shattering. One second she was dying to come, the next minute, she thought she might die, no—wait. “OH, God.”

  The climax slammed through her—no prep time, no rising roll. Nicola arched her back and ground down on his shaft, panting and moaning and wanting more.

  “Fuck, Nic.”

  It was intense but so short-lived. “More, please.”

  He worked her clit and took her from behind. Not hard, not deeper—just more. With his thumb flicking and cock strumming her, Nicola felt the incoming explosion again. She pushed onto her tiptoes, arching for him, leaning against the wooden half shelf in front of the window. Cash lay over her body, pumping into her.

  “Give it to me,” he ordered.

  She nodded, wild and not caring, completely lo
st as he owned her body with every piston-like jacking of his hips. “Cash!”

  He milked it, working her clit, riding her harder, faster. She blew through the fireworks, riding him back, gasping and praying that the ripple of muscles in her body would never stop because it was amazing.

  She came again, feeling the heat of her husband’s climax. They gasped, clinging to each other, needing that support and—“Ouch!”

  He froze.

  Giggling like a fool, she dropped her head. “I think I have a cramp.”

  Cash backed away from her, dropping kisses down her back. “A well-deserved one. That was a workout.”

  She stretched, and let him take her hand. “Shower?”

  “Good plan.”

  Naked as a baby, Cash hit the kitchen for post-coital snacks, and they made their way to the master bath. He hit the steam shower, and she munched on the banana—potassium, Cash had said, for cramps—and nursed a bottle of water.

  “Dang.” She shifted on the side of the tub. “The banana’s not doing it.”

  He gave her a look. The look. “Where’s your phone? With the timer thingie.”

  “Nope.” Nicola shook her head. “I have two weeks.”

  “Seriously?” He stomped off, still naked, and returned with her phone. “Where’s it at?” He thumbed through her apps and held up one of questionable value related to man candy and gun porn.

  “Book related, thank you very much.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Here. Set the timer.”

  “This baby will be on time.”

  “Oh my God,” he said. “You’ve lost your mind.”

  “No. But I have a plan. I wrote it down, and that’s how it will go. In two weeks.” She smiled, suddenly knowing that she was having this baby very soon. Her stomach started to tighten. “Shit. Hit the timer.”

  Cash hit the button, and they both watched the clock.

  “God, that’s—” She shifted, this time ready for the discomfort. “A little sucky.”

  They did that, on and off, for the next twenty minutes and stared at the blinking results.

  Time to go!

  Time to go!

  Time to go!