Page 30 of Reckless Forever (Jennings Mafia Family #3)

Ivy

“Congratulations, again. I can’t wait to be a bridesmaid,” Storm glowed, hugging me so tight I didn’t know if it was a hug or a Mafia take down that she had picked up.

“Thank you,” I whispered against her shoulder, the words half-stuck in my throat. I hadn’t been able to wipe the smile off my face for hours now, but this moment made it deeper.

The last week inside the safe house had been strange, a moment I couldn’t explain.

On the one hand, we were confined to a single space.

Wondering if our men were going to make it back safely or if our lives were in danger.

On the other hand, it was a kind of bonding I never thought I’d experience.

Kennedy, Storm, their kids, and even Remy.

Judah’s family had embraced me so quickly that it felt both scary and natural.

Not having been close to my own family, but to witness how his family showed up for him, and for me, was something I couldn’t take for granted.

It explained everything about the man beside me.

Why he loved me the way he did, and why he gave more than he said he could.

Judah held open the back door of the truck, still finding a way to cater to me and be a gentleman even when the weight of the world fell on his shoulders. I slid across the leather seat, making room for him. Hollow was in the driver’s seat, and the engine rumbled as he pulled away from the curb.

I immediately reached for Judah’s hand. His fingers, always warm, while mine were always cold, laced together as his other hand held his phone. His brows furrowed, eyes scanning, thumbs moving quickly. He never got a second of rest from business.

I tugged his hand gently, pressing it against my chest. “Did you know lightning is five times hotter than the surface of the sun? That's exactly how my heart feels right now.”

The eyes that were once on the screen slowly dragged over to me. The corner of his mouth twitched, and I already knew that he was about to say something slick.

“No, baby. I don’t know how lightning feels.” He scoffed, voice full of sarcasm.

I chuckled, rolled my eyes, and tossed his hand away from me. “You really get on my nerves.”

He smirked at my pout but went back to his phone.

Outside, the night had just started to fall.

The stars had already started to take their place in the sky, and I could see them glistening through the tinted windows.

For a moment, I forgot about everything: the safe house, the war, the chaos we had been through, and just took it all in.

But like I knew it would, my mind still drifted back to where I tried to avoid.

Were these the same stars burning in Bolivia?

A single tear rolled down before I even noticed. I wiped it away quickly, hoping Judah hadn’t seen it. But of course, he had. He noticed everything. He dropped his phone on his lap and pushed my shoulder gently to turn me toward him.

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice was softer than normal.

I hesitated, chewing on the inside of my cheek. The question had been nagging at me since he walked through the door. I exhaled, building the nerve to ask again.

“Can you at least tell me what happened in Bolivia?” My voice cracked, but I kept it together as best I could.

Judah’s expression tightened, and when he didn’t speak, it was enough to send anxiety through me. He rubbed my hand, trying to calm me.

“Baby, I was going to tell you when we made it home.”

My stomach sank. The tone of his voice almost confirmed what I was afraid of. I was supposed to be happy. I was gaining something. A promise, forever, a husband, and a family. But that same gain caused me to lose the only family I had ever known.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a perfectly folded square of paper. He placed it in my hand. “Here.”

I stared at him, eyes never leaving him, before carefully unfolding it. My breathing hitched when the handwriting jumped off the page.

That blue ink. The felt-tip pens and the words that were half cursive and half print.

I broke down right there in the back seat of the truck. The sobs that left me echoed in the car, as Judah hugged me and pulled me into his chest. He held me in his arms as I cried so hard that I was hyperventilating. He whispered to me words of comfort that I barely heard.

Because I knew this handwriting. I would know it in this lifetime and in the next. It was my father’s.

I had a box of these at home. I read them so much that I almost memorized them down to the pen stroke.

He had written to me almost weekly when he had to leave.

They were the only reason I wanted to go back to Bolivia; they were the only tangible thing of his I had left, aside from a few faded photos.

Once I could finally breathe again, I blinked back tears and read the letter.

My hands trembled as my eyes darted over the words, and it was like I could hear his familiar voice saying each one on the paper as I read them.

When I finished, I stared at Judah, my eyes wide, my chest heaving.

The proposal. Not only was it a promise to me, but to my father.

“So, Padrino’s still alive?”

“Yeah.” Judah’s answer was short as he leaned in to kiss my forehead, stroking my hair.

“He wants to talk to you.”

I fumbled for my phone, adrenaline through the roof as I dialed with shaking fingers, waiting for him to answer. It rang a bit before his face came on the screen.

“I thought you would miss me.”

Both a cry and a laugh escaped from my throat. “I do. I’m sorry I caused this trouble,” I apologized, full of guilt.

“Don’t be,” he said firmly.

“Now show me how that ring looks on you.” His tone changed to light and playful.

I grinned through my tears, angling the phone so he could see the diamond sparkling against my hand. I lifted it to my cheek, the light from the truck hitting the gem just right.

“Perfect,” Padrino said, pride in his voice.

We talked for a few minutes; it was short but needed. I promised I would come back to visit him, and he made me swear that he’d know the date of the wedding. His insistence made me laugh, but it also made me nervous.

“Padrino said, take care of me, and remember why he calls you the bull,” I said, glancing at Judah.

Judah leaned closer to the phone. “I got you,” he said in Spanish, his tone carrying both respect and finality.

When the call ended, silence fell in the car for a beat. I turned to Judah, overwhelmed with happiness, and cupped his face between my hands. His eyes were dark, but they held me together.

“I love you so much, I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

His lips curved slowly into the version of him that I loved to see, “I love you too, Mrs. Jennings.” He said as he leaned forward and placed a kiss on my lip.

When we pulled up outside the estate, the lights from the towers showed that the ground looked like it had been dug up.

“Baby, what happened?”

“Your crazy ass godfather dropped a fake bomb on all our houses.” He said as he helped me out of the truck.

“Ohhhhh, the inert bombs.” I nodded, knowing exactly the kind he was talking about.

“He can inert me some fucking money for my grass, you tell him that,” he said as I fell over into him in a fit of laughter.

We walked up the stairs and went into our room. I exhaled. The safe house with the kids was no joke; I had forgotten how much I had enjoyed the luxury of complete silence.

“Let’s go bathe,” I said to him as I took his phone from his hand, set it on the dresser, and led him toward the bathroom.

Once we made it inside, I turned on the water, letting the steam fill the room. Then I kneeled down, untied his shoes, and took them off his feet. He stepped out of them, and I placed them back in the room. I took off his shirt, then undid his belt and took off his pants for him.

When I undressed, I led him to the tub. He had this sexy mix of lust and confusion on his face. Then I bathed him, I scrubbed his hands, back, feet, the whole nine.

“A Bolivian tradition after engagement,” I said lowly.

“Shit, we can go get married now,” he suggested as he looked at me with low eyes.

I chuckled as I straddled him in the tub, and I hugged him around the neck while he traced lines down my back.

“Let’s shower so we can go to bed,” I suggested as I stood, and we walked over to the shower.

Inside of it, the passion between us was so raw that we almost didn’t make it out of the shower, and we barely dried off, bodies still dampened as he carried me over to the bed.

Sliding between my thighs, he kissed me with nothing but pure passion and hunger.

I squirmed in anticipation of what was to come.

He sucked and bit my neck, hands palming my ass as I reached between us and stroked his dick.

It hardened in my hand, and I could feel him thicken and the veins outlined underneath my fingertips.

Judah pulled back, chest rising heavy. He maneuvered me to the edge of the mattress, my head hanging slightly off. His body towered above me as he tapped his dick against my chin.

“Open up for me, baby,” he ordered.

I parted my lips, and he slid inside, slow at first, then deeper, until I was fighting my gag reflex just to take him. Then he leaned down and buried his mouth between my thighs, sucking my clit like he was starving.

The stretch of his dick down my throat mixed with his fingers pumping inside me had me trembling. Then his touch shifted with one hand pressing deeper into me, the other teasing my ass with a pressure that almost drove me crazy.

By the time his tongue dragged slow circles over my clit, I was done. My body shook, the orgasm hitting hard and wet as I squirted all over his hand, his mouth, and our sheets.

“Yeah, give me all that shit, Ivy,” Judah rasped, holding my thighs apart while he rubbed me through it, bringing more out of me until I was whimpering.