Flaws And All (2 page)

                And tonight was the night patience would pay off. Tonight was the night his right arm would be put to use for more than just his “showers.” Tonight he’d finally be able to attempt digging into his wife so hard that he’d come out with diamonds attached to his cock.

                “If you love me at all,” he stated, staring at his sibling’s grinning face, “you will do this.”

                Sansone shrugged. “What’s love got to do with it?”

                “I’ll tell you what it’s got to do with it, Anna Mae Bullock,” Luciano said, leaning forward and holding his daughter out. “Me, telling Nyssa why that linebacker from the Redskins
really
canceled on her.”

                The other man took Gianna, staring down into her small upturned face. “When you’re older, I’ll explain to you how much of a spunk sucker your father really is, princess.”

               
“Holy. Shit.”

               
Samara swung towards her office door at the sound of Trip’s voice while simultaneously pulling her shirt down.

                “Paz! Come quick! Sammie just flashed me!”

                “Goddammit! Don’t you know the meaning of knocking?” she shouted while the sound of pounding footsteps came from down the hall. Paz appeared in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth hanging open as he bent over at the waist trying to take in deep breaths.

                She’d had the door closed as she stood in front of the mirror hanging on the back of her closet door, the top of her sundress and bra pulled down so she could mentally mark all the areas that had room for improvement. Sadly, she’d forgotten to
lock
the door, and Trip, with his kitten-like steps, had managed to sneak up on her.

                “No, and I thank God for that slight malfunction of manners because without it I would’ve missed out on the very thing I’ve been waiting for since the first time I shook your hand.” Trip placed a palm to his chest, eyes wide and sincere as he said, “Sammie, can I just say—”

                “
No,”
she interrupted. “Say. Nothing.”

                “But—”

                “
Nothing.”

               
“Your nipples—”

                “I said
nothing!”

                Trip closed his mouth, bright white teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he stood there, visibly trying to refrain from making a comment on what he’d just witnessed.

                Samara relaxed, and that was when he sucked in a deep breath and blurted, “You have the greatest pair of tits I have ever seen!”

               
“Jesus Christ!” She covered her face with her palms and sat back against her desk.

                “How great?” Paz asked as she tried to figure out how many people would miss her should she fling herself from the window of her office.

                “Fucking. Amazing.”

                “Give me a spectrum here. I missed it.”

                Her head fell back on her shoulders. “Oh, my God! Would you
stop?”

               
“It was like…like…seeing Santa for the first time; like knowing the words to a song on the radio that no one
else does; like the warm embrace of the good lord himself. I am ruined my friend,
ruined.
I will never love again. For the pulse in my heart now belongs to Sammie.”

                “Get out now.
Please?”
Whining wasn’t going to work. She knew this. How many times had she whined over the last few years? How many times had she threatened to fire two of her best friends since Ava—their previous station manager and owner—sold WKZ to Samara and moved down south? It never worked. And from the leers on both of their faces, it wouldn’t work now.

                “Oh big-breasted one,” Paz said reverently. “We come not for our own amusement and selfish needs—”

                “Although knowing what color your nipples are really
fulfills both those categories,” Trip interjected.

                “—we’ve come to figure out why you seem so detached today,” Paz completed, ignoring the asshole next to him.

                She rubbed her temples. “I’m not talking to you about this.” Because it was embarrassing
.
Hadn’t she suffered enough? Must she lean on these two for support now? This was what loving her husband had driven her to? Flashing her nipples around by accident? All she wanted was some relief from her self-conscious thoughts, and this was where it had led.
Baby Jesus hates me…

               
“Ah, it must be lady problems,” Trip guessed, taking a seat on her couch. He patted a knee. “Come sit on Papa’s lap and tell him all about it.”

                Samara’s lip curled. “You
do
know I still retain the full capability of removing your vital organs and selling them on a black market website, motherhood or no?”

                His brows winged. “If it means I’m naked and you’re touching me…”

                She turned to Paz. “Make him go away.”

                “I could.” The former football player shrugged. “But he’d only be back later…like an infectious disease gnawing at your crotch.”

                “That’s a lovely description of my commitment to our friendship,” Trip replied dryly. “I’m touched.”

                “In the head,” Paz announced.

                Samara sighed. “Why do I know the two of you? Why does my friend circle include people who don’t understand boundaries?”

                Paz put an arm around her shoulder and led her to the couch, sitting her in between himself and Trip. “Now, now, chesty. You calm down and tell us what’s on your mind.”

                “No.”

                “No?”

                “
No.”
They didn’t need to know the ugly details of how she wanted to curl up into a ball and not reappear until her body looked like it used to again.

                “Does this have something to do with your tit-to-waist ratio?” Trip asked. “Because if that’s what you were looking at, it’s perfect.” He grinned as though he’d just dug up some mystical treasure. And for that, she hit him in the back of the head. “Ow! What was that for?”

                “You have to ask?” Paz queried.

                “For making me mental!”

                “Use your words! Not your fists!” He wagged a finger in her face like she was a preschooler. “Bad girl! Bad,
bad…Jesus Christ! Unhinge your jaws from my digits you madwoman!”

***

                “Daddy loves you.” Luciano went down the line of three of his favorite people, kissing his two youngest on the forehead and stopping when he reached the oldest. “Demon seed.”

                Marco smirked up at him, and he tried not to shudder at how eerily similar that expression was to his own, despite the fact they shared no DNA. “Luciferian father.”

                Luciano’s eyes narrowed before he reached out with one large hand and covered the kid’s entire face. He had never been one to pick favorites among his children, but Marco would always be Luciano’s Achilles heel. He was his son in all the ways that mattered. Even while being the clear product of Satan.

“Don’t irritate me, boy,” Luciano intoned while jostling Marco a bit, trying not to smile when Vincent giggled and Gianna waved her little arms and feet while in Sansone’s hold. They clearly enjoyed watching their brother get abused. “Or I’ll make your life miserable.”

“Good job on a great start, Luigi,” Marco retorted in a dry, muffled voice from behind the palm on his face.

Luciano sighed and lifted the bottom of the kid’s T-shirt, pulling it up and over his head before he shoved him out the front door and onto the porch. Turning back around, he ran a hand over Vincent’s hair and looked to Sansone as his youngest boy came to stand by him. “Feel free to use that one”—he jerked his head towards Marco’s current position—“for child labor.”

Sansone smirked. “The oil in my car needs to be changed, and I’m in the mood for a home-cooked meal tonight.”

                Luciano returned his grin. “You’re a ba—” He looked down into Vincent’s upturned face and amended himself. “Uh…
bad man.”

               
Chuckling, his brother walked past him and out the door, a baby bag hanging from one shoulder. “Have fun defiling your wife.”

                “It’s not defiling in the eyes of the lord. We have a license.” He locked eyes with Gianna as Sansone was carrying her away, Vincent hot on his heels, and Luciano felt a brief punch in his gut, missing his brood already. That feeling disappeared the moment Sansone loaded the kids into his SUV and took off.

                He watched them get a good distance away from the house before jumping around and singing “Eye of The Tiger” seemed like a really
good idea.

                Laughing now, he kicked the door closed and stripped on his way upstairs, rushing to shower and have dinner started before Samara got home from the radio station. Most days he worked from home on business plans for his franchise of gyms and sporting goods while keeping an eye on Vincent and Gianna until Samara swept in like supermom. He never thought he’d be the type to want to document every little moment of his children’s lives but watching her with them made him pick up his camera every five minutes. She was closer to Marco than he was, Vincent clung to her hip whenever she was around, and she was the only one aside from him who could get Gianna to smile. They’d had plenty of screaming matches over the last few years, but that never detracted from how amazing she was as a mother. She’d even given her cat Manfred to Trip when it looked as though she wouldn’t be able to pay him adequate attention.

                God, he loved his wife. He loved being able to freely touch her even more. Luciano had kept his hands to himself for his own peace of mind. He knew that even one
unrestrained kiss could lead them down a road her body wasn’t ready for, so he’d kept himself in control at all times, even avoided being anywhere near her when she showered. He stayed on his side of the bed and away from her laundry. Imagining her in all those little lacey contraptions she had kept him up most nights. But tonight was different, and he had every intention of taking advantage of that. Over and over and over again.

                He had just began to turn steaks over on the grill bar of the stove when the front door opened. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from running out into the foyer like a little boy. Luciano looked down at his crotch. “Behave yourself, sir.”

                “And you’re talking to your man meat
why,
exactly?”

                His head snapped up at the sound of his wife’s voice. She stood just in the doorway, brows almost touching her hairline.

                “Mind your business, woman.” Luciano waved a hand at himself. “This was a personal conversation.”

                Samara nodded, tucking her lips in. “On that note, I’m going to go get cleaned up for dinner.” She disappeared but came back seconds later. “Where are the kids?”

                “With Sunny for the weekend,” he answered, plating both steaks.

                 Her silence caused him to lift his head, and the look in her eyes caused him to stop what he was doing. “What’s wrong?”

                “Why’d you hand our progeny off to that madman?”

                “Last week you were calling that
madman
your precious, precious brother whom you adored more than me.”

               
“That was before you gave him our children!”

                Luciano’s head cocked. “I’m sensing you’re distressed, my love.”

                Samara stopped, took a deep breath, and shook her head. “I’m not…it’s just…” Her voice trailed off, moving to the place setting laid out in the dining room off to the left of the kitchen. “I
really
need a shower.” His wife’s smile was shaky. “Be back in twenty.”

                Once again she was gone, and Luciano got the distinct feeling something was wrong here. She was hiding from him, and Sammie hadn’t hidden from him since she found out she was pregnant with Vincent.