“Come for me, husband.” I rolled my hips, gripping the head of his cock with tiny movements until I pulled away. His fist strangled his cock as cum splattered onto the ground. Romeo slumped against me with a hoarse groan, the weight of his sweaty body like home. Each place our skin touched, glowed. Our chests plastered together as we shared even our ragged breaths.
“Can we make these dates a regular thing?”
“If they end like this? I’ll make sure of it.” Romeo laughed into my hair.
1981
“How do I look?” Antoni swept a hand down his body.
I tapped my teaspoon on the side of my cup and laid it on the saucer. The peppermint tea swirled, the fresh scent clearing my stuffed nostrils. Romeo flicked down his newspaper and gave his son an appraising look.
He was wearing plum trousers and a white button-up shirt. His hair was gelled back off his face, letting his thick eyebrows frame his hazel eyes.
My son. Looked too grown up for my mind to comprehend.
“You look very handsome, but did you give some thought to what I mentioned the other day?” I prodded him with anunsubtle reminder. Antoni’s wide shoulders tensed, and his hand lifted, as if to coast through his dark hair, but he thought better of mussing his pristine locks. His skin had a golden tan from his time at the Orazio estate in Italy. Romeo had never forgiven the Orazios for their treatment of him, but he kept his promise. Antoni wanted to know his heritage and his experience had been positive. For the first time in decades, our family line across the ocean was flourishing. There was even talk of sending some younger relatives to intern in Greenich Bay, to learn from us instead.
“Mama, please, not before I have a date. I beg you.” He looked toward Romeo, but my husband flicked the newspaper up and covered his face.
Not before his lips twitched in mute amusement.
I took a sip of my tea and arched an eyebrow over the cup, not content to let it go. I’d given Antoni three days already, and I wanted an answer.
He grumbled under his breath.
My son was the best of Romeo and the worst of me. He was ambitious and hard-working. He put aside his ego to listen to those who knew more than him, even if they were getting gray around the edges. He was blunt and demanding, with little patience for dim-witted people. He had a volatile temper when pressed too far.
Antoni was a young man in his prime, and I wanted to give him the opportunity to rule as Romeo had. To take the Orazio legacy while we were still here to guide him. We had twenty years to cement ourselves, and it had not been without its bumps.
“That Cassovi girl can wait. She’ll probably apologize for getting there early.” I curled my lip. Antoni had taken my advice and was actively shopping for a wife.
Antoni blew out a frustrated breath. “You put her on the list. What did you expect me to do when you told me it was time to marry?”
A flare of anger burned down my veins when I heard Romeo’s muffled laughter.
“Yes, my wife, he’s only doing as you commanded.”
The lines around Romeo’s eyes were deep, years of laughing at my expense. I sent him a sour look. He should have learned after all this time not to toy with me, but he couldn’t help himself.
“I thought you’d screw the list up and toss it in the trash. Perhaps you’re not ready to rule, if you do everything your parents tell you to.” I threw my hands up as Antoni’s eyes widened.
He tugged on his burgundy tie. I’d only meant to open his eyes to a different perspective, to get him to think about his future. I never thought he would listen.
“Are you serious? You don’t want me to get married?” His voice had a slight edge, and he looked to Romeo for confirmation. I let out a click of my tongue like a whip, and his smile became rueful. Romeo folded the newspaper, pressing down the edges until it lined up neat.
“Of course, we want you to get married. Your mama is desperate for grandbabies.”
We all snorted at that. I loved my son with a fierceness that tore me to pieces. Some people likened mothers to bears, protective over their young. But I was a dragon. I would burn down entire cities for my son. I wasn’t a perfect parent. I was miserly with my affection, and I still struggled to say it out loud. Antoni tapped the side of his nose, a movement that was so like my father’s, his namesake. I turned for a moment, misty-eyed and embarrassed by it.
“Antoni, you make Maria’s heart so happy. More babies in the house. I cannot wait.” Maria rushed into the room and wrapped Antoni in her arms, her head only reaching his chest.
Romeo and I shared a look, our housekeeper wore an apron most days, but she was more like a grandmother than either of our mothers ever would be. She hadn’t worked for years, living with us in semi-retirement.
She insisted on bustling around the kitchen and staying on her feet. But she was family. She split her time between our house and Paolo’s, where there were considerably more children and noise. Merissa and he had dated in secret until she’d fallen pregnant with twins, and Paolo moved in to help. They were like roommates. They both insisted to me. Although Paolo told me Merissa had turned down his proposal, refusing to ever be under control of a man again. Their arrangement worked for them. My mother was on another cruise, through the Greek Isles. She called Antoni on his birthday, but only to point out hers was a week later. Rosetta had kept her word. I hadn’t heard from her since the fateful afternoon she came to our house. Her memory was a shadow, one long forgotten. Antoni grunted as Maria squeezed him tighter.
“No babies—” he wheezed, “yet. But I may have news if tonight goes well.” Maria pulled away with a gasp and whacked him as Romeo doubled over with laughter.
“The crudeness is unnecessary,” I scowled. “Do you have flowers for my possible daughter-in-law?”
