One Step Closer (Erotic Romance) Book 1 (The DeLuca Brothers) (6 page)

Maria suspected,
Sofia was sure. She always took Tommy over to see Maria, claiming that it was
because her own parents were so far away, but she'd seen Maria's shrewd eyes
watching the boy, seeing the slight differences between him and the DeLuca side
of the family. She could see some of herself in her son, but he was so much
like Frank that Sofia was often shocked that more people didn't see it. Tommy
loved his Grandma Marie and his uncles, and they him, but Sofia sometimes felt
guilty that they didn't know that they truly were family.

She grabbed a shirt
and pulled it over her head as she headed for the stairs. She didn't have much
time in which to make her decision. She could only hope whatever she decided
was the right thing. As soon as she crossed into the living room, however, she
saw that all of her worrying, all of her debating, had been for nothing.

Frank stood next to
the couch, his hair a mess, but fully clothed, even if his shirt was missing a
few buttons. Less than five feet away was Tommy, a wary look on his young face.
His book-bag was still in his hand and he seemed to be trying to decide what to
do next.

“Tommy,” Sofia's
voice shook as she hurried to her son.

“Mom,” Tommy looked
up at her. “Who is that man? He looks like Uncle Sal.”

“Tommy, this is
Grandma Maria's oldest son, Frank.” The truth and a lie by omission was the
best solution Sofia's panicked brain could come up with on such short notice.
She turned towards Frank, her stomach sinking at the expression on his face.
This wasn't how she wanted this to go. “Frank, this is Tommy.”

“Hi there, big guy,”
Frank's voice was pleasant, but Sofia could hear the tension below the surface.
“How old are you?”

As soon as Frank
asked the question, Sofia knew that everything was going to come crashing down,
and she was helpless to do anything but watch.

“I'm seven and a
half,” Tommy answered, all suspicion gone. His implicit trust of Grandma
Maria's sons had immediately extended to Frank. “I'm in third grade.”

“Seven and a half?”
Frank's smile tightened and Sofia could see him doing the math in his head,
though she wasn't sure which conclusion he'd come to when he finished. “That's
great.” Frank's hands curled into fists and Sofia could feel the anger
radiating off of him. Without another word or even a glance in her direction,
he started for the door.

Sofia couldn't
breathe. She had to fix this. She couldn't let things end this way, not when
there was even a shred of hope that they could work things out.

“Tommy, sweetie, why
don't you go put your things in your room. I'll be right back,” Sofia spoke as
quickly as she could, hoping to catch Frank before he made it outside, but Frank
was slamming the door behind him before she'd finished her first sentence. As
Tommy went to do as he'd been told, Sofia ran out of the house. “Frank!” She
called out his name, desperately hoping that he'd come back, that he'd let her
explain. She looked down the street towards the DeLuca house and could see
Frank walking. “Frank!” She yelled, but he didn't turn. She took a step as if
to go after him and then realized that she couldn't leave Tommy, and she sure
as hell couldn't take Tommy with her, not unless she wanted to reveal his true
parentage in the most awful way possible. So she stood, unable to move.

“Mom, what's wrong?”
Tommy was at the door, a puzzled expression on his young face.

Sofia choked back
the cry of frustration that wanted to escape and forced a smile onto her face.
She turned towards her son, trying not to let him see the heartbreak and
despair currently running through her. “Nothing,
sweetie. Let's get you a snack.”

Seven and a half
years-old.

Frank couldn't get
the boy's words out of his head. They echoed in his ears, taunting him as he
stormed down the sidewalk. In the distance, he could hear Sofia calling after
him, but he didn't acknowledge it. How could he go back there, knowing what
she'd done? He now understood everything. Why she'd left eight years ago,
leaving him with just a note. Why she'd never called or come back. Why she'd
had to marry Gio so quickly. And, now, even why she'd run when she'd first seen
him. It also explained Gio's behavior. Anger at his cousin flared up again.
This wasn't just a matter of Gio finally having a shot at Sofia after they'd
broken up. What they'd done was unforgivable.

He threw open the
front door with more force than necessary, wincing as it crashed against the
wall. He hadn't meant to do that.

“Francis DeLuca!”
Maria's sharp voice came from the couch. “You know better than to do that.”

“Sorry, Ma,” Frank
muttered the words automatically. He knew he should sound more respectful, but
he couldn't quite manage it.

“Are you all right?”
Maria stood.

“I'm leaving,” Frank
avoided her question. There was no doubt in his mind that his mother and
brothers had known about Tommy – Sofia and the boy's references to them by
familial names had been enough to confirm that. And there was no way that they
hadn't been able to put together what the boy's age meant, even Anthony who
didn't pay attention to things like that. The fact that the most antagonistic
of the bunch hadn't said anything was just proof, in Frank's opinion, that the
family had all known.

“Talk to me,
Francis,” Maria crossed to where Frank stood. “What's happened?” She glanced at
the door and then at his disheveled appearance. To her credit, she didn't
bother with disapproval.  “Did you go to see Sofia?”

“Oh I saw her all
right,” Frank raked his hands through his hair and walked over to the couch as
if to sit down before he changed his mind. “I saw her and her son.”

“Tommy,” Maria
didn't bother to try to hide the fact that she knew about the boy.

“He's seven and a
half, Ma,” Frank turned away from his mother so she wouldn't see the anger on
his face.

“Yes,” she didn't
sound as if the revelation meant anything.

“I did the math,”
Frank closed his eyes and then opened them again. He kept seeing the two of
them together, Sofia and the boy, standing there, watching him with those same
eyes, one set curious, the other full of fear. “And now I know why she broke up
with me, why she and Gio had to get married so fast.”

“You do?” Now Maria
sounded genuinely surprised. “And you aren't still there with her and Tommy?”

“She lied to me, Ma,
why would I want to stay and talk it out?” Frank turned towards his mother.
“She cheated on me and you're acting like it was just some little fib.”

“Cheated on you?”
Surprise turned to bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”

Frank's temper
flared. Did he really have to spell it out for her?
“Sofia got pregnant before she and I officially broken
up. That means she and Gio were fu – sleeping together while she and I were
still together.”

“You think...” Maria
stared at Frank. “Sofia didn't cheat on you, Francis.”

“There's a little
boy down the road who proves otherwise,” Frank only just managed to keep from
snapping at his mother.

Maria shook her
head. “And here I thought you were
smart.”

“What are you
talking about?” It was Frank's turn to look puzzled.

“Do the math again
and don't be an idiot this time.”

“Ma?”

“Gio may have
claimed that boy as his own, but anyone with eyes can see who Tommy's father
is. That boy is a perfect blend of you and Sofia.”

Frank took a step
back and shook his head. It couldn't be true. Sofia would've told him if he had
a son. That would have brought them together, not broken them up.
“She – she told you that?”

“She's never come
out and said it,” Maria admitted. “But I've pieced together enough over the
years to know that Sofia has never stopped loving you, even when she was
married to Gio. A girl who's been in love with you for as long as she can
remember doesn't just up and cheat on you.”

“She would've told
me,” Frank found himself giving voice to the reasons why it couldn't be true.
“That's the kind of thing that brings a couple in love together, not breaks
them apart. I would've married her and she knew it.”

“You're right,”
Maria nodded. “Sofia knew that you would've proposed. You would have given up
everything you'd been working for to come back here and take care of your
family. Sofia loved you enough to sacrifice her happiness, her future with you
and her own reputation so that you could have the life you wanted. She never
wanted to hold you back and she didn't want a proposal because you were
obligated.” Maria's voice hardened. “If you love that woman, Francis, if you
ever loved her, you need to stop being a selfish bastard and do the right
thing.”

Frank stared after
his mother as she left the room. The silence was deafening as he sank down onto
the couch, the strength draining out of his legs. Was she right? Was that boy
really his son? And if he was, why had Sofia hidden him? Could his mother be
right about that as well? After all of these years, was it possible that he'd
been wrong about why Sofia had left him? Had she been trying to do what she'd
thought he'd want?

That led him to a
more important question. What did he want? If Tommy really was his son, what
did that mean? Before he'd known about the boy, Frank had been thinking about
the possibility of trying to work things out with Sofia. That had been one of
the main reasons he'd gone to her house to see her. The other reason had ended
up taking precedence, but he'd intended for their time together to include a
conversation about where they each were now in their lives and if they had room
for each other.

The sex had just
solidified for him that the attraction had still been there. Then he'd seen
Tommy. At first glance, he'd thought the boy was younger and that Sofia just
hadn't had the opportunity to tell her about him. He'd had a few seconds to
consider if he still wanted to be with her if she had a child. He'd still been
debating it when he'd realized that the boy was older than he'd originally
thought.

All thoughts of
starting again had fled the moment he'd thought she'd cheated on him, but now,
things had changed again and he had an important decision to make, one that
wouldn't just affect him, but his entire family, Sofia, and Tommy.

If Tommy really was
his son, what was Frank going to do about it?

Sofia sat on the
edge of Tommy's bed as he climbed underneath the covers. She'd managed to make
it through dinner and two rounds of Go Fish without losing her composure, but as
she tucked her son into bed, she could feel herself starting to lose control.
She leaned over and pressed her lips against Tommy's forehead. His eyes were
already starting to close as she stood.

“Good night,
sweetheart.” Hot tears pricked at the backs of her eyelids but she didn't give
in, not yet.

“Night, Mommy,”
Tommy mumbled even as sleep claimed him.

Sofia swallowed hard
against the lump in her throat as she hurried from the room. The tears started
as she climbed into the shower. She washed methodically, breathing in deep the
scent of her lavender body wash and trying not to look at the marks Frank's
mouth had left on her body.

There had been a
time when she'd enjoyed looking at marks like the ones on her breasts and neck,
when they had been evidence to her of a night of passion, a time spent with the
man she loved. Frank had once joked that they were his way of saying that she
belonged to him. He'd realized how it had sounded the moment he'd said it and
they'd laughed. That night, Sofia had left a sizable hickey on Frank's neck,
declaring that she'd marked him as her property. They'd laughed about it
together.

As she toweled her
hair dry, she avoided the mirror, not wanting to see how red her eyes were or
how puffy her face had become. She left her hair down as she pulled on her
robe, loosely tying it at her waist. She didn't really have to worry about if
she was decent or not. Once Tommy fell asleep, as long as she was quiet, he
wouldn't wake up. She stuck her feet into her fuzzy gray slippers and downstairs
to the living room. She could have gone to bed, she knew. It wasn't like she
was actually going to accomplish much of anything, but some part of her felt
that if she'd retired early, if she let Frank change her routine, he would win.

She poured herself
half a glass of wine and settled on the couch, tucking her legs up under her.
The television was on, but she wasn't really watching. It was more background
noise, something to try to convince herself that she wasn't dwelling on what
had happened.

It wasn't working.

Even as the tears
streamed silently down her face, Sofia wasn't sure exactly which part of her
shitty day she was most upset about. Was she crying over what had happened with
Frank or at the future she'd lost, a future she hadn't allowed herself to think
of in years?

A knock at the door
startled her from her misery. Sofia wiped her hands across her cheeks as she
got up to answer the door. She realized that she'd known who it would be even
as the door was swinging open to reveal Frank standing there. His eyes widened
slightly at the sight of her, but Sofia refused to feel embarrassed. She'd
earned the right to be upset in the privacy of her own home.

“What do you want,
Frank?” Her voice was weary.

“Can I come in?” His
voice was soft, filled with something that Sofia didn't recognize.

She seriously
considered telling him that he'd missed his chance, but she knew she couldn't.
If he'd come back for the truth, she still owed him that much.
“Just keep it down. Tommy's sleeping and I don't want
him waking up.”

Frank nodded and she
stepped aside to let him inside. She shut the door and waited for Frank to walk
towards the living room, but he didn't. Instead, he remained in the small
alcove by the door and turned towards her. “Sofia,”
he started, then stopped.

Suddenly, she
realized what she'd heard in his voice that she wasn't able to place.
Uncertainty. She'd never heard Frank DeLuca uncertain about anything and the
fact that it was here, with her, that he was this vulnerable made her stomach
clench.

“Sofia,” he began
again and she could see the effort it took for him to continue. “Is Tommy my
son?”

Sofia took a deep
breath. There it was. No one had ever come right out and asked her before. She
looked up at Frank and, hoping her voice would remain steady, replied,
“yes.”

“Why...” his voice
broke on the word and he didn't finish his question; he just looked down at
her, his eyes full of pain.

She didn't need him
to finish. She knew what the question was. She crossed her arms under her
breasts and looked away from him, unable to take the hurt on his face.
“The last time we were together in LA, I woke up and
you were gone. I was in the middle of reading your note when I suddenly felt
sick to my stomach. I spent the next two hours in the bathroom throwing up. But
then I started to feel better. I knew it wasn't the flu. Six weeks before, when
you'd flown me to Chicago for the weekend, I hadn't realized it at the time,
but I'd left my pills at home. I didn't want to worry you so I didn't say
anything. Then I was late and I was pretty sure I knew why. I was going to tell
you that I suspected, but we were kind of busy that first night and then you
weren't there that morning. When I read your note and realized that you were at
work, I knew that I needed to be positive before I told you. I went to the
corner market and bought a test. I thought for sure you'd come back right while
I was in the middle of taking it, but you didn't. It just told me what I'd
already suspected.”

Sofia glanced up at
Frank now and found him watching her with a serious expression, almost as if he
were seeing things in a whole new way. Which, she supposed, he was. She
continued. “While I waited for you to
come home or to call, I debated all of the different ways to tell you. I knew
you loved me and that you'd want us to get married, I never doubted that, but
as the hours passed and you still didn't show, I realized that there was
something else of importance in your life. My screw up was going to cost you
your dream. It was my fault I was pregnant and I knew that you'd give up
everything anyway.” She brushed the back of her hand across her cheek where a
tear had slipped down. “And then I realized that I loved you too much to let
you do that. So, I wrote that note, packed my bags and came home. On the plane,
I realized that once people back home saw that I was pregnant, everyone would
know that you were the father. Your mother would never let you stay in LA if
your son was here. I needed a plan. During my layover in Chicago, I called Gio
to come pick me up when I got in to New York. I told him everything and then
told him what I wanted from him.”

“He knew?” Frank's
voice was hoarse.

“Yes,” Sofia nodded.
“He would know that there wasn't any way that my baby could be his child, even
if we'd fucked in the airport parking lot. I made him swear on his mother's
grave not to tell you, not to tell anyone, the truth. He agreed to claim Tommy
was his if I married him. He didn't want people thinking that he was the kind
of man who wouldn't do the right thing. I agreed.”

“Did you love him?”

The question
startled her enough to make her raise her head. “Not at first, and never like I loved you. And I think he knew it, but
we tried to make it work, for Tommy's sake.”

“So Tommy doesn't
know.” It was a statement, not a question.

“No,” Sofia shook
her head. “But I always intended to explain it to him when he was old enough to
understand.”

“Sofia,” Frank had a
different kind of hurt in his eyes. “Did you really think that I cared more
about my work than I did about you? Than I would have about our son? All of the
money in the world hasn't been able to make up for losing you and it seems even
more worthless now that I know I've missed almost eight years of my son's
life.”

Sofia felt tears
welling up in her eyes again. “I'm sorry.
I thought that's what you wanted.”

Frank took a step
towards her and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“You and Tommy are what I never knew I wanted.” He
dropped down on one knee, smoothly pulling something from his pocket.

In the dim alcove
light, Sofia saw the sparkle of Maria DeLuca's engagement ring. She gasped, her
head spinning. Surely he wasn't going to do what it looked like he was going to
do?

“Sofia, I don't want
to miss one more minute with you or with Tommy. This isn't out of obligation or
a sense of duty. I want you to be my wife because I've been in love with you
since before I realized it. I've never loved anyone else and I know that I
never will.” He took her hand and looked up at her. “Will you marry me?”

Sofia was aware that
her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn't seem to close it. After several
seconds she realized that he was still waiting for her answer, but words still
escaped her. She nodded mutely and Frank slipped the ring onto her finger, a
smile lighting up his face. As he released her hand, his slipped underneath her
robe to wrap around the backs of her knees.

Her mouth went dry
as Frank's hands began to move, sliding up the backs of her thighs to cup her
ass. Her heart began to pound, the rush of blood loud in her ears. Frank looked
up at her, his eyes shining with love and desire.
“Shh,” he winked at her.

Before she could
process what was happening, Frank had parted the folds of her robe and was
burying his face between her legs. Sofia let out an undignified squeak, earning
a chuckle from Frank, one of those manly ones that always turned her on and
made her mad at the same time. She bit down on her bottom lip to stifle the
sounds that wanted to come out as Frank's tongue danced between her folds. He
teased along her entrance, circling it before dipping inside to caress the
silken walls. When he moved up to her clit, he found the little bundle of
nerves swollen and throbbing. As he took it between his lips, Sofia's teeth dug
into her flesh, almost to the point of pain, the sensation adding to the
intensity of the pleasure Frank was generating with his lips and tongue. Sofia
dropped her hand to his head, digging her fingers into his thick hair as she
pressed his face closer. He flicked his tongue across the top of her clit and
she let out a muffled cry. As her gaze fell on her hand in his hair, she saw
the ring on her finger, glinting against the dark locks and the sight of it
sent a shiver of pleasure through her, pushing her body that last little bit
she needed. Frank stood as she came, his arms sliding up around her waist to
hold her as her body shook. His mouth came down on hers, losing the grip she
had on her lip to suck the abused flesh into his mouth, soothing it with his
tongue. She tasted herself on his tongue, the flavor heady and familiar.

“Bedroom?” He
whispered in her ear as she started to come down.

Sofia nodded, then
realized he was asking for direction rather than permission.
“Upstairs,” she managed to speak. As they made their
way across the living room, she found herself able to add, “we have to be
quiet.”

Frank gave a low
laugh. “Yeah, that would definitely not
be the way I want to officially meet my son.”

They crept past
Tommy's bedroom and slipped into Sofia's without making any noise. Frank was
already shedding his clothes even as Sofia shut the door behind them. She
didn't hesitate as she untied her robe and let it fall to the ground. Frank's
eyes darkened as he looked at her, taking on a possessive glint that Sofia
instantly recognized. As he kicked aside his pants, Sofia dropped to her knees,
eager to feel him in her mouth once more.

“Fuck,” Frank swore
softly as Sofia ran her hands over his thighs and around to grasp his firm ass
in her small hands. She looked up at him through thick lashes as she leaned
forward and ran her tongue along the underside of his stiffening cock.

He tasted exactly as
she remembered. Salt and musk, with something that was uniquely him. As she
took him into her mouth, he groaned. Staying quiet wasn't going to be easy for
either of them. She slowly drew back until just the tip remained between her
lips. Frank's hands fell to her head and she moved forward again. She took just
a few inches, stopping each time as his cock neared the back of her throat. Her
fingers circled the part of him she couldn't take and they worked in tandem
with her mouth until Frank began to tug at her hair, wordlessly telling her to
stop.

Part of her wanted
to keep going, wanted to feel him explode in her mouth. She wanted to taste him
on her tongue, swallow every last drop. More than her desire for him to cum in
her mouth, however, was her need to feel him inside her once more. She let him
fall from her lips with an almost obscene plop, unable to stop her grin when
she saw him panting from the effort of staving off his climax.

Frank wrapped his
hand around the back of her neck and pulled her towards him. His tongue
plundered her mouth as he crushed her against him and she responded in kind. He
lifted her off the floor until he could straighten and, as they kissed, he
walked them back the few steps needed to reach the bed. Without breaking apart,
Frank lowered them both to the bed. Sofia pulled him down on top of her,
spreading her legs so that he would come to rest exactly where she wanted him.

His tongue retreated
as he reached between their bodies to position himself. As he inserted the tip
into her entrance, he pulled back from their kiss until their eyes could lock.
Neither one said a word as he eased his way inside her pussy. Sofia caught her
breath as he filled her, the change of position allowing him to stretch her in
a different way than he had yesterday. They had often made love like this,
face-to-face, watching each other's expressions change with each stroke.