Shotgun Wedding: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (17 page)

"How much is 'ridiculously expensive?'"

I groan. "It's like three-thousand dollars."

He leans in and gives me one more sweet, soft kiss on my lips.

"I just wanted to know how much it would cost me."

"Cost you? I said I wouldn't get it." I'm distracted by his kisses, by the way Gray's lightly calloused hands travel up my bare arms, a barely-there touch that makes me shiver.

"Cost me," Gray whispers. "For when I do this."

Then he grabs the front of my dress, where the bodice has been carefully stitched together—and he rips the damn thing straight in half!

"Gray!" I shriek. "Oh my God, what are you
doing
!"

"Getting my money's worth," Gray grins.

The ruined dress falls to the floor, and I'm left standing there in lace scraps that are passing for a bra and panties, and my garter belt and hosiery.

"Shit, Kat." His slight accent is back. "I'll always remember how you look right now. Always."

"Right back at you," I whisper.

Because I will.

I'm standing upright between Gray's legs. God, he's so gorgeous. His eyes are intense, a smoky blue-gray in the low dressing-room lights. His hair looks like hammered gold, and out from under his black shirt, I see the tail of his immense, intricate snake tattoo.

"Feel what you do to me." Gray takes my hand and places it between his legs, over his pants. He's huge, and hard.

All for me.

I lick my lips. Suddenly I want to do something I've never done before. I watch myself like in a dream. I bend forward at the waist, meeting his eager lips, but I dance just out of his hands.

"Lean back," I whisper against his lips. His huge body moves back immediately. I can't help but revel in the power. He moves for me. He gets hard for me.

He wants
me
.

I slide my body down his massive one. I've always been a bigger, curvier girl—but next to Gray I feel positively miniature. Well, not
exactly
miniature
.
Gray cops a feel of what's overflowing from my lace bra. He groans in appreciation.

I drop to my knees and bite my lip.

Gray watches me, his eyes on fire, as I unbutton and slowly unzip his pants. Jesus, he's not wearing any underwear, and his cock is so big and hard that as soon as it's free, it juts proudly forward, reaching up and beyond his navel.

I swallow, suddenly nervous. I'm totally, embarrassingly inexperienced. Despite the fact that we've been unable to keep our hands off each other all week, Gray has always taken control. I've played with his gorgeous, massive cock. He's let me suck on it, for short amounts of time. And he's definitely rubbed it over at least half my body.

But I've never tried to seduce him.

I've never tried to take control.

"Babes," Gray growls. "You're allowed to touch me."

"Gray, I've never—I never done this before. I've never…swallowed or anything."

Gray pauses a moment, and though I didn't think it was possible, his eyes grow more intense.

"
Katya
, I'm all for female empowerment and shit. But the Neanderthal in me is fucking excited that you're mine.
All mine
. Don't worry, baby. Whatever you do is going to feel like fucking heaven to me."

He pauses, leans forward, and meets my lips. "Kat,
you're
fucking heaven to me."

I gasp, feeling suddenly like I'll cry. But that's ridiculous. What other woman in the history of the world has gotten emotional over giving a blowjob?

Then Gray leans back, palms his cock, and a wave of lust and heat takes me over.

"Alright," I say, moving forward. "Sit back and enjoy."

I just have time to notice Gray's grin, and then I touch him. I already knew he was hard, like silk-covered steel. Mm, but he's warm. Burning up, just like me. I run my tongue from the base of his cock, slowly, all the way up his length. Thank God Elle likes reading sex manuals, especially blowjob guides. I may be inexperienced, but I'm not totally clueless.

But this is so much better than reading a magazine article.

Gray groans as my tongue grazes his sensitive underside, then I lick him delicately across the top of his wide, flat head. God, he's so big. His cock is a gorgeous amber color, the head almost purple and as big as a plum. I moan myself, thinking of that plunging inside of me.

I kiss the tip of his cock, sweetly. And then something comes over me, and I kiss it harder, open-mouthed, wanton, the sound of my sucking the only thing I can hear besides Gray's suddenly heavy breathing.

I open my mouth wider, take his head inside me. It tastes smooth and clean and slightly salty. I run the tip of my tongue over his slit, and when his body involuntarily jerks, I do it again. And again.

"Katya, fuck." I look up and Gray's staring down at me, his eyes burning. "That's right, baby. Look up at me with those pretty green eyes, my dick in your mouth."

His dirty words make me moan, right around his cock, and he groans in return. "You're a natural, baby."

I suck harder, getting back to work. I try to take all of him inside me, but it's impossible. Gray reaches down and guides my hand onto the base of his cock, shows me how to work him with my hand and my mouth in unison. He's breathing harder now, and so am I.

I never knew getting on my knees would make me feel so powerful.

Gray leans his head back, his eyes closing, and I pause for a minute, concerned. Then he puts his hand gently on my head and motions me back toward his dripping cock.

"Is this okay?" Gray asks, and the concern in his voice makes me melt.

Of course, my panties are already dripping.

I pull off him with a popping sound, just like champagne.

"Yeah," I say, my voice surprisingly husky. I actually
like
the pressure, his hand guiding me.

So I admit it. I lean back on my heels, working him with my hand. I cup his balls with my other hand, and he groans. God, I like making him groan.

"Yes," I say. "I actually like you taking control."

Gray laughs, a short, sexy sound. "Really? You've been fucking fighting me on it since day one."

I giggle. "Well, I like you taking control…
in bed
. Or, you know, on a dressing-room sofa. Not so much the rest of my life."

Gray leans forward, suddenly intense. He puts his hands on either side of my face, holds me gently. "Kat, I'll always take care of you. You can trust me."

What a strange, intimate moment. I'm holding his dick in my hand, but my heart is beating a million miles a minute. My heart actually
hurts
, being this close to him.

Oh God. I can't be falling for him.

"Babes, get out of your head," Gray says.

I look up at him, leaning forward to kiss his tip one more time. "Make me."

Gray smiles. And then the smile drops, and the alpha-male look is back. And I fucking love it.

"Open that pretty little mouth, sweet Kat," Gray orders. He's still holding my cheeks, though one hand now slides to the back of my head, fisting my hair. I'm caught, my chest is heaving, and I've never wanted anything so much in my whole life.

"Keep it soft, and open. I'm going to fuck your mouth now, sweetheart. But first, I want to lean down and feel how dripping wet your pussy is." He moves his hand from my cheek—his right hand still holding me in place by my hair—and runs his fingers over the lace thong I'm wearing.

"How much did this cost?" He grins, but rips it right off of me before I can answer.

I gasp.

Then he's fingering me, growling at my wetness.

"That cream is gonna feel fucking fantastic on my cock," Gray says. He pulls his fingers back and slowly licks them, staring at me, letting me know he loves my taste.

I'm shivering with excitement.

Then he puts both hands on either side of my face, shifts forward, and slowly slides his immense cock into my mouth. He only goes halfway in, resting for a moment, and I drag my tongue along his underside.

"Greedy little mouth," Gray says. "My greedy little wife."

He begins to move faster, thrusting now, more and more of his cock filling me. I loosen my lips and just take him; I can't do more than that—he's in control now. He bellows, cursing and saying my name like a prayer. And then with a shout he comes, and I
feel
him pulsing inside of me. I swallow reflexively, quickly, but he's so big I can't take him all.

Gray pulls out slowly, and I suck him all the way out. He leans down and touches the side of my mouth, where I feel his come is on my face. Then he suddenly picks me up, and I'm flying, up onto his lap, into his arms.

"Kat," Gray growls, before kissing me. Attacking me with his mouth, sucking his own damn come off my lips. "You get me so worked up. I could fuck you again, right now."

"Do it," I moan, out of my mind as his fingers work my clit, teasing me and driving me wild. I'm drunk, but not on the alcohol anymore—on him.

On Gray, on Gray, on Gray
.

And he's on me then, kneeling on the floor, so tall that all he has to do is scoot my ass to the edge of the sofa and he's inside me, so hard and hot that all I can do is moan and hang on.

"How much is the couch?" Gray breathes out heavily between thrusts. He's fucking me so hard that the entire sofa is moving, an inch or two back every time he pounds into me.

"No idea," I moan. Gray pulls out and stands suddenly, then sits next to me. He grabs me, pulling me onto him so I'm straddling him, wearing nothing but my garter belt, hosiery, and tiny lace bra.

Gray suckles my nipples directly through the lace.

"Holy shit." The mixture of his wet, insistent tongue through the rough material almost makes me come.

"Because I think we're gonna need to buy it, too," Gray smiles, pulling me down onto his eager, dripping cock.

I moan. I love riding him. I love his hands on my hips, urging me on, his cock hitting that magic spot inside me that makes me cry in pleasure and frustration and fear that I'll lose my damn mind—all at once.

"Oh God, I love you," I whisper, as it hits me and I come, and come, and come.

And then he's coming too, shouting, thrusting up and up harder, and then we're in each other's arms.

The dress is ruined.

The couch is ruined.

I'm ruined, too, and I don't even care.

"
S
o
, what are you learning in chef school?"

Elle and I weave through the crowds at the farmer's market. Of course, it's a farmer's market in Manhattan—so we're actually indoors, and there's sushi along with the raw milk and local honey.

Elle's wearing a surprisingly subdued outfit, for her: regular old jeans (of course they look amazing on her), a plain pink t-shirt, and a big-ass smile. She's been seeing Chase for three weeks now, and it seems like love at first sight, though Elle is quick to correct me:
lust
at first sight.

Nothing more.

Of course, I can't blame her for smiling. I've been doing the same thing for the past five weeks.

"Well, this week we're learning the proper way to dice vegetables, I say. And quarter a chicken, which is harder than you think—wait a minute. Forget chef school! Elle,
are those hickeys all over your neck
!"

Elle blushes as pink as her shirt and giggles. "Girl, Chase is a
maniac
. I haven't had so many love bites since high school. I swear, it's like he wants to brand me."

I have to laugh. "And it sounds like you love it."

Elle rolls her eyes. "It's just a fling. We're just having fun." She glances over at me. "Oh no, and don't get that worried look on your face, Kat. I think
one
of us being married to a mobster is more than enough, don't you think?"

I roll my eyes. "Keep your voice down, girl."

Elle elbows me. "No one's paying attention to us. Ooh, tacos! That okay for lunch?"

She grabs me and rushes me over to an organic taco stand.

"Fine by me," I say. I check my phone. "I've got an hour before my next class. Plenty of time."

We get in line and Elle puts her arm around me.

"Kat, you look wonderful. I'm so happy for you. I mean, I know your Dad is still M.I.A., but at least you and Gray are…happy?"

I have to laugh. It's insane, but we are.
We are
. "I know it's only been like two months, but we really are. I mean, Gray is stressed. He won't really talk to me about work." I lower my voice and whisper into Elle's hair. "But I think Solonik is doing stuff Gray doesn't like. And that asshole Markov, he's still around."

As soon as I say Markov's name, we both involuntarily glance back at Dacko. I'm used to having my own personal bodyguard now, and after being attacked, I'm more than fine with it.

And I'm pretty sure Dacko's cool with being my shadow, especially because now that I've started culinary classes, he gets to eat all my mistakes. Which are still pretty damn tasty

"I think Gray really wants Solonik to diversify into stuff like construction companies, waste removal. You know, more legitimate enterprises. I could really see Gray moving the family in that direction."

I stop when I realize Elle's just staring at me, her mouth a big, shocked circle.

"What?"

"Damn, girl. You sound just like a mafia boss' wife."

I swallow. "No, no I don't. I just think Gray has some great ideas. You know, move the
enterprise
away from riskier ventures and—" I stop talking. "Jesus, I do. I do sound like a mobster's wife."

"Don't look so freaked out. Maybe if Gray gets his way, you'll be a construction company owner's wife."

I shrug. "I can't think about the future like that. It's been two months."

"Two months, plus seven years," Elle intones. "Does this mean you don't want your passport?" She opens her purse and flashes it at me. "It came today. Nice pic, if I may say so."

My heart drops. Or maybe it's my stomach. I suddenly just feel exhausted, though I've been so tired lately. It must be a combination of all my classes, and studying, and cooking at home…and Gray keeping me up all night.

Which is hard to say no to.

"Of course I want it. It's good to have. I mean, I don't have any plans to run off to Europe or South America, but it's just good, common sense to have all my paperwork in order."

"Uh-huh," Elle nods. I can tell she's trying not to laugh at me.

"I'm just focusing on culinary school. Next week we learn to make the perfect roux."

"Ooh," Elle giggles. "Well, I'm focusing on
lunch
." She slips me the passport when we get to the counter and I put it in my bag. Not the giant Bottega Veneta, but a lightweight backpack more perfect my lifestyle.

I grin. My
student
lifestyle.

"What'll you ladies have?" the guy at the counter asks. Elle orders two chicken soft tacos, and I open my mouth to place an order when I get a whiff of the meat.

The raw, cooking meat.

And my stomach clenches.

Then tumbles.

"Oh God." I press my hand against my middle, then my throat. I'm having to convulsively swallow to get rid of all the saliva that's suddenly filling my throat.

"What's the matter?" Elle grabs my arm. "Honey, are you okay?"

I shake my head. I'm so not okay.

"Where's the bathroom?" I croak. "I think I'm going to throw up."

* * *

T
wo little pink lines
.

Shit, how many cups of flour did I put in? I'll have to dump it back and start over.

"Kat. Kat. Stop baking." Elle shifts on the bar stool in Gray's apartment, watching me like I'm a bomb which might go off at any time. I'd asked her to rip open the stitching of my Bottega Veneta and hide my passport in there. She was working on it, but mostly watching me.

"Do you think we should get another test? Just in case it was wrong?"

"Kat, honey. We bought
seven
. They all say the same thing. I think you've got a bun in your oven, girl."

I shake my head, measuring the flour again. This time I focus and don't think about anything else until I get all three-and-a-half cups leveled off and into my mixing bowl.

Two little pink lines
.

Pink.

What if it's a girl?

Would she have golden hair like Gray or dark hair like mine?

I shake my head. "Oh my God, how did this happen!"

"Well, Kat, when a man and a woman really love each other—"

"No jokes right now, Elle! This is serious!"

Elle drops the bag on the floor and comes into the kitchen. She takes the mixing bowl out of my hands and then wraps me in a big hug.

"I mean, we used protection every time! Even the first time, I made him put a condom on!" I cry on her shoulder, rubbing my cheek on the soft pink fabric—

"Wait." I gasp and look in Elle's eyes. "Shit! When we went clothes shopping! Oh shit, oh shit, oh God!"

"What?" Elle says.

"We did it. We did it on those awful gold couches. And…we didn't use a condom. But you don't think, I mean, it was
once
, I can't be—"

"Honey, you're pregnant. And you've got to calm down. Because if you're acting like this around Gray, he's going to know something is up. Basically, any stranger on the street is going to know something is up."

I nod. "You're right. You're right. I need to—I want to—"

Elle grabs my shoulders. "If you still want to run, if you don't want this pregnancy, you don't have to keep it. But honestly, once you tell Gray, I'm pretty sure he's going to want the baby."

I nod. Of course he will.

But I realize: I want this baby.

I don't want to run.

I want my husband.

I want Gray
.

"I'm fine, Elle." I smile at her, really smile at her. "Thank you so much. I was just shocked there for a moment, but…"

Another wave of nausea hits. "Oh crap," I moan. Elle helps me run to the bathroom. We're still in there when I hear Gray come in.

"I'll go say hello," Elle whispers. I nod, thankful for the privacy.

After a few minutes, the nausea passes. I flush the toilet and splash water on my face. I don't look any different, do I?

When I get back to the kitchen, Elle is packing up her stuff.

"Hey, babes, you alright?" Gray comes over and gives me a big hug. I let myself melt into his strong arms. "Elle said you might be coming down with something."

I smile wanly. "Maybe a stomach flu or something." I glance over his shoulder at Elle, who's sneaking toward the door. "Thanks, Elle!" I call out. She grins and waves.

When I look back at Gray, he's studying me.

"You look like you might need some rest."

I study him. He looks gorgeous, like always, but there's something weighing him down.

"How about you? You look tired, honey."

Gray sighs. "Fucking Solonik. You don't want to know. I just need a shower…maybe a nap with my wife."

I follow Gray into the bathroom and watch him strip. He's totally unselfconscious, though I would be too, if I had his perfect body. I walk up and kiss his arm, running my fingers over the tattoo that covers the outside of his left arm. It's a hooded cobra or viper, ready to attack, circled around a dagger with stars on its hilt.

"You never told me what this means," I murmur.

Gray drags me into the shower with him, embracing me under the hot, running water. "I hate it," he whispers. "It was Old Man Dimitri's—that was my father's, and then my—
pakhan
, years ago. It was his symbol. It meant I was part of his family. It was his mark on me."

I take the soap and wash the cobra, his chest, his stomach.

"And now you're a grown man, and you don't want anyone else to mark you?"

Gray nuzzles my neck and runs his hand over my belly—for a moment I tense. Does he know? Can he sense it? But then he continues on, sliding his hand between my legs.

"No one but you, little wife."

After we make love—more slowly and tenderly than normal—as if he somehow senses I'm fragile today, or maybe I sense it in him—we lay in his bed.

Our bed.

I kiss his tattoo.

"Well, I love your tattoo. Maybe you don't like the reason you got it, you know one thing I love about snakes?"

"You love things about snakes?" Gray looks down at me and laughs, his eyes sparkling like silver in the late-afternoon sun.

I smile back. "Well, I don't know that much about snakes. I know they're gorgeous." I kiss his arm. "And scary." Another kiss.

"Really, scary-gorgeous."

He smiles.

"And they can shed their skins. Reinvent themselves."

We hold each other's gaze, and then Gray softly touches my cheek.

"Wise little Kat, laying down with a snake." He takes a deep breath, and then out of nowhere—"Katya, I love you. I've always loved you."

Maybe it's just the hormones. Maybe it's exhaustion.

Maybe it's because I love him more than anything.

But I start crying. And then I say, "Gray, I love you, too."