Page 27 of Always Mine

“Last I checked, Marco is family, so leaving with him to go to the establishment he co-owns with my brother shouldn’t be some shocking scandal or offend anyone’s sensibilities. Also, I don’t need or want Dad to play matchmaker or force introductions. All I’ve ever wanted is to join the family practice, but I don’t want special treatment. Inevitably, people will already assume as such, making it that much more important I prove my talent in the courtroom. Who I may or may not choose to date does not have any bearing on that.” I echo the advice Stella gave me earlier, trying to convince myself she’s right as much as I’m trying to prove a point to my mom.

“That’s all true, honey. I just want you to be happy, Sophia. Only you know what that looks like for you. I also know how hard you’ve worked for the career that is right there for your taking. No matter what, I’m here for you.”

Unlike me, Dad, and Raf, she doesn’t enjoy the back and forth to prove her side of an argument.

“Oh, a package was delivered for you while you were gone. It’s on your bed.”

I use the opening to go to my room and freshen up for dinner. I need my game face on to endure a meal with the two men that have me all wound up for entirely different reasons.

Chapter thirteen

Mirror, Mirror

Sophia

WalkingintomyroomI notice the telltale sign of a Net-A-Porter delivery. The signature black box with white writing, finished with black ribbon with white stitching tied in a bow. It contrasts with the stark white of my quilt and beckons like a siren’s call. I’m not sure why, but my heart is racing a little. Untying the bow and lifting the lid I see a note on top of the tissue paper.

Happy New Year Kitten,

It was brought to my attention that your tights went missing, so please accept a pair and a spare—because you just never know when you might find yourself needing a backup.

There’s also a little something to make sure you always arrive right on time…for court, that is.

I’m so proud of you. - M x

Lifting the tissue paper I see two new pairs of sheer tights, like the ones he pulled clean from my body, except these have a little message embroidered into them: Bite Me. I laugh loudly before my eyes snag on the signature red of the Cartier box nestled inthe back corner. I gently lift the lid to reveal a stunning rose gold watch with a square dial surrounded in small diamonds. I gasp. It’s stunning and the perfect choice for my delicate wrist.

Marco Marrone is a surprise wrapped up in an enigma. It took two hundred and twelve miles and six years to erect a wall around my heart to try and stop it from beating for him. Yet, in less than seventy-two hours, he’s shown me the man he is—protective, thoughtful, ambitious, sexy, and powerful—and in the process smashed that wall to rubble, leaving my heart beating uncontrollably and unprotected.

I’m standing in front of my mirror putting the finishing touches on my outfit when I sense a shift of energy in the room. I look over my shoulder just as Marco steps into my back, setting off tingles that scatter down my spine and settle just a little further south in that sweet spot that became so well-acquainted with the tongue belonging to the vision of a man behind me.

“For a big guy you’re as stealthy as a panther,” I rasp. Placing a hand on my right hip, he bows his head, the stubble of his neatly trimmed beard tickling my jaw and the crisp, fresh notes of his signature cologne enveloping me like a hug. Even though I’m wearing high-heeled boots, he towers over me.

Marco chuckles into the side of my neck, his breath fanning my skin and setting off goosebumps. “What can I say? I am the gift that keeps on giving.”

All the doubts I confessed to the girls earlier today feel like lip service. Why can’t I have it all? The career and him?

With a wolfish grin reflected at me, he praises my outfit, running a hand down my left arm and lifting it gently to admire his gift now proudly on display.

“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of nervousness.

Meeting his gaze in the mirror, I respond without hesitation. “I love it.”I might also love you. Oh, God. Rein it in, Soph!“But you really didn’t have to; it’s too much.”

“I wanted to. Besides, there’s no such thing as too much when it comes to you.”

I watch as he reverently roves his eyes over my body. In stark contrast to last night’s all-black outfit, tonight I have gone for a cream off-the-shoulder cashmere sweater dress that cinches at the waist before flaring out to a short skater-style skirt. I’ve pushed up the sleeves to highlight the Cartier watch, which perfectly complements my tan skin tone. I’m also wearing a pair of the replacement black sheer tights Marco sent and black boots with a sharp, elongated knife-edge toe. People always joke they can double as a weapon, and to be honest, with the way this family dinner could go, there’s no telling if I might need to improvise.

My breath hitches as Marco firmly grips my hips, pulling me flush with his hard chest before moving his hands down towards the short hemline. “I need to conduct a fit check of the stockings to ensure I got your size right,” he says huskily, keeping his smoldering eyes on mine in the mirror as his hands roam under my skirt and over the curve of my ass. “Mmmm, so you do know how to follow instructions.” He continues his exploration, running his fingertips along the embroidered words “Bite Me” that sit over my right cheek. Yep, that’ll do it. I feel the slickness pooling between my legs.

My eyes flutter closed momentarily as I melt into the hard planes of his chest. Since giving into the chemistry that’s always been there last night, he’s dropped the walls of self-restraint too.

He groans as he palms my ass firmly, slightly pulling it apart as he presses himself against me so I can feel how turned on he is. Peppering my jaw with kisses, he rasps, “Damn. The things I want to do to this ass. Bite it. Lick it. Fuck it.”

All three? All at once?His words set off a delicious flurry of anticipation in my body. There’s never been any denying the chemistry between us. Despite swearing never to let Marco infiltrate my heartagain, I already feel utterly consumed by him. The way it feels to be held in his arms, his dirty words caressing my ears. Am I going to wake up and realize this was all a dream? He sure seems adamant about showing me how well we fit together, and I have to say, looking at our reflection, he makes a compelling case. Maybe, just maybe, dreams do come true.

The sound of someone clearing his throat breaks the moment. I jump out of Marco’s hold and swing my head towards the sound. Marco doesn’t even flinch, and out of my peripheral, I see a shit-eating smirk take over his face.

“Now, now, kids. I hate to break up the party just when we’re getting to the good part, but dinner is about to be served,” my brother Luca says gleefully, waggling his eyebrows from the doorway.