Unconventional (The Manhattanites #4) (14 page)

“It’s cream,” she corrected.

In the light when I turned, I caught a shimmer of pink in the fabric. It was nice.

“Isn’t Massimo going to walk me down the aisle? Where is he?” My attention focused on the brass clock on the wall. “We better get going—”

“He’ll be here. He just went to get something for you.”

“Something old?”

Lex laughed and shook her head.

I continued, “Something new? Something borrowed? Something blue?”

There was a knock at the foyer.

“Come in!” I shouted.

The door flew open.

Holy shit!

“
Padre
.” The word barely escaped my lips.
I haven’t said that in so long
.

He appeared shorter than I’d remembered, almost frail, and sad. Oh, God, the sadness…

“Jemma,” he said as if something was stuck in his throat, stepping closer.

“What are you doing here?” I clenched my jaw to push back a sob. I wasn’t prepared to see him. Inhaling deeply, holding it for a second or two, I exhaled and muttered, “Did Masi send for you?”

“Not exactly. Although his plane brought me here.”

“Then who?” I asked as Lex excused herself from the room, giving us some privacy. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be alone with him.
Not today
…

“Luigi and Rocco called me last night. They repeated what they’d said months ago when they asked for my approval to have your hand in marriage.”

“I see…” I tried to keep my guard up. “And you came here today to try and talk me out of it?”

He shook his head. “To apologize. Make things right between us, and hopefully walk you down the aisle.”

Unexpected glee pursed my mouth. I couldn’t believe he’d just said that. “You’d give me away?”

“Only if you promise we can let the past stay behind us. I want you back in my life, Jemma. I’ve missed you. You’re the only family I have.” The tone in his voice seemed different, as if he’d changed.

“I’d like that,
Padre
.”

I ran into his arms like I was a little kid and hugged him tight. He smelled of tobacco and wine, as he always had. Wiping the tears from his dark eyes, I asked, “What about my lifestyle? You know I’m marrying both of them today, don’t you?”

He laughed. “
Sì
, you have my blessing.”

My defenses began to subside, instead replaced with a headiness. Dizzy almost. I thought I was going into shock that he was supporting my choice. “Why didn’t you accept them before?” I motioned for us to take a seat on the two chairs in the room.

He poured me a glass of water from the nearby pitcher. I took a sip and waited for him to answer.

“It’s not that I didn’t approve. It’s just that I didn’t want you to go through life being discriminated against because of your poly relationship. The world is filled with so much hate. Life is hard enough without adding an extra layer of judgments to it.” He paused for a minute as if thinking what to say next. “The day you’d told me was your mother’s funeral. I’d already lost the love of my life. I was angry that she’d died. Your
madre
and I always joked that I’d go first.” He gave a slight chuckle.

“Life is mysterious, isn’t it,
Padre
?” I reached for his hand and stroked it. Sunspots, more than I’d recalled, scattered across his skin.

“At the end of the day, I just want to see you happy. I love Luigi and Rocco. I always have.”

“Really?”

“
Sì
.” He nodded. “When you were going through chemotherapy, they called me every week to let me know how you were doing.”

“Luigi and Rocco called
you
while I was ill.” Caught off-guard by his reply, I sat upright, more awake than before.

“They texted me photos and kept me up-to-date on your recovery.” His thin lips spread into a wide smile. “I had to make sure you were okay.”

“Why didn’t you come visit me then?” I asked in exasperation.

“The doctors had told us any added stress would weaken your immune system. I figured having a father around you hated would surely make you sicker.”

“Hate.”
A cold knot formed in my stomach. “No,
Padre
. I could never hate you.”

“I love you, Jemma. You’ve made me so proud. All that you’ve accomplished. You’re such a survivor. Please, do me this honor and let me give you away today.”

His request, his words, his very presence mended a hole in my heart. Right there. Right then. I hadn’t realized it was even there. But it was, all along. Every day since
Madre’s
funeral, since he and I had stopped talking, my heart had ached. “I would like nothing more,
Padre
.”

As the day progressed, I was reminded by my loved ones how short life was and that every day, each moment, should be enjoyed to the best of our ability.

The next day, my two husbands and I traveled on to Moscow.

Then a few days later we were in Paris.

Then a week later Beirut.

And two weeks after that, Ibiza!

The sun and the sand with a drink in my hand. I’d never believed in love at first sight until I went to Ibiza.

We had nights I would always remember. Rocco topped Luigi.
I
topped Luigi, too.

My hair got lighter. My skin became darker. The water seemed warmer. The music sounded louder. I felt younger. Our lovemaking went on for
ohhh
…so much longer.

My life just got a whole of a lot better.

Frickin’ A! I can’t be preggers.

Jemma

The Ritz Carlton Hotel, Manhattan, New York

Six weeks later

Cazzo!

“Lick…harder,” I sassed, trying to overcome an odd wave of nausea I’d awoken to a few minutes before.

Rocco lapped his tongue around the sensitive flesh on my clit. The leather mask he’d worn the previous night at Taddy’s soiree was pulled up over his forehead, causing the long, black curls of his hair to frame his beautiful face.

We’d had so much fun dancing the night away. TV producers who’d been following us for weeks from country to country had asked us to do a reality show.

Can you believe it?

He buried his Roman nose, full lips, and thick tongue deep inside me.

“
Sì,
move over,” he muttered between grunts in Luigi’s direction. “Let me have her.”

Luigi brought my body over his as I spread my legs wider for Rocco. We were just waking up to another naughty day in the Big Apple.

“
Cazzo.
It’s too early for anal,” I cried out as Rocco started to finger my ass.

“Jemma, it’s never too early.” Luigi put on a condom, and slid himself inside my ass, filling me.

Up and down my entire body ran an erotic shiver. Curling my toes, I held onto Rocco’s torso. Guiding my body to receive him as well.
Mind you, this takes a bit of effort.

“We haven’t even had espresso yet,” I contested.

But how could I resist them?

I bit my lower lip as Luigi slid deeper into me. Rocco climbed on top, slamming himself into my cunt. “
Bello
, slow down.”

“Jem. My Jemmy!” he cried out.

Luigi palmed the globes of my ass and shouted dirty things, sexy things, getting all alpha.

Each of them stiffened inside me, and I melted between them. Rocco thrust forward as Luigi pulled back.

“Oh,
amore
. Yes. Like that. Don’t stop.”

Wet. I started to get so wet.

“I’m going to come,” Rocco moaned.

Glancing down, my eyes caught his massive dick thrusting in. Then he’d pull back a few inches, his face longing to fill me again. And so he’d drive back in as satisfaction filled him just as it did me.

“Come,” I growled in his ear.

His hotness jetted inside me.

I closed my eyes and saw bright colors burst under my eyelids. An orgasm crashed over me, too. My body trembled.

Luigi held me tight and slowed his thrusts in my ass down.

I opened my eyes to see Rocco lowering his face under my pussy and to Luigi’s dick. He loved to taste him.

Pulling out of my ass, he threw the condom on the floor.

Rocco sucked him dry.

Unsure whose arms and legs belonged to whom, we laid in bed together entangled. I ran a hand over each of their chests.

Luigi spooned me from behind. His big hands, rough and callus grazed my back.

Rocco stared at me as if he wanted to say something. Something had been on his mind. Always sensitive, he’d been acting weird lately. Ever since we’d gotten to New York, actually. Total oddball. Instead, he grabbed a jar of a homemade cream he liked to rub on my skin after we made love. His
Nonno
had given it to me at my wedding. Said it would keep me healthy.

“What?” I leaned in kissed him on the lips.

“Nothing,” he said and started to apply a thin layer to my skin. First rubbing my shoulders, then my breasts and torso.

“What’s bothering you?”

“It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s you.”

“Me?” I asked, turning my head back to Luigi to see if he was paying the conversation any attention.

He was.

“How are you feeling lately?” Luigi asked.

“Great,” I replied and stretched my body out between them. I’d been in remission for a year, having passed what the doctor had called my ‘danger zone’. “I’ve gained a little bit of weight recently, but I like it.”

After years of being uncomfortable in my own skin, that day I was able to say I loved myself.

“When was the last time you had your period?” Rocco’s thick, black eyebrows shot up as one.

“I don’t know…”

“Think.” Luigi pulled me closer to him.

“A month or so ago. Maybe two.”

Maybe three.

That didn’t mean anything. Ever since chemo, my periods had been sporadic. Sometimes they wouldn’t happen at all, and other times they just wouldn’t seem to let up.

“You are pregnant,” Luigi muttered in my ear. His hands came over my stomach.

“Don’t be silly. You both know I can’t get pregnant.” I swatted him away, sat up, and turned around to face them.

Hands behind their necks, they were both spread out in bed glancing up at me. So beautiful. So sexy. So mine.

“Only one way to find out.” Luigi tossed the sheets back.

“I’ll run to the corner store and get a pregnancy test.” Rocco jumped out of bed, slipped on his slacks, a polo, loafers, and was out the door before I could even tell him to freeze.

“Don’t act surprised,
dolce
. We haven’t used condoms since we started our sabbatical.”

“My darling, I’m not surprised because I’m not pregnant. We’d agreed, no babies. No convention. Just us out for fun.”

“
Sì
,
but maybe the universe has other plans,” he said.

“I make the plans around here, thank you very much.” Not entertaining the notion, I left Luigi on the bed, made my way to the bathroom and closed the door.

In the shower I let the hot water beat on my back, washing the morning’s lovemaking off my skin.

Pregnant.

Well, that’s utterly impossible.

Fingering a citrusy shampoo through my hair, I thought about what the doctor had said to me before I’d started treatment.

“I strongly urge you to have your eggs frozen before chemo,” he’d suggested.

“That won’t be necessary. I have no room in my life for children.”

“Are you sure you won’t change your mind?” he’d asked.

“I get that this chemo is going to change me from the inside out.” I’d checked off the box on the form that I understood all the treatment would entail.

“
Sì,
I’m afraid so.”

The real reason I didn’t get my eggs frozen was because whose baby would I have? Rocco’s? Luigi? I knew Rocco wanted a baby, but did Luigi? I doubted that then as I do still. But Rocco’s face seemed happy. Like ecstatic.
WTF!
I didn’t want to disappoint him, but he’d have to get himself another wife. Or we could adopt.

The water collected at my feet as I stared down, looking at the drain. I thought about my Rocco. He was almost thirty, the age where if he had any urges to become a
padre
it would be then.

I soaked my hair under the spout, the sudsy bubbles running down my body. I then ran a fruity scented conditioner through my hair.

Life has been full of so many surprises lately. First my fashion brand tanked, then
Padre
and I made up, now I’m married, and my new designs for the next season are going to be a hit. I can almost taste it. But pregnant? Really…