The Woman in the Wrong Place (Grassi Framily)

“He was a nice man.”

“He collected ferret art. Ferrets.”

“Everyone is going to have their things. What? Like you don’t have flaws?” Adrian asked, rolling her eyes.

“No. I’m obviously perfect,” Sofia declared with a big smile.

“Don’t have daughters,” Adrian said, looking at me. “You bear them and birth them and raise and love them. And this smart mouth is how they repay you.”

“Hey, you only have yourself to blame,” Sofia said, walking over to her mom and resting her head on her shoulder. “If you didn’t want me to be a strong woman, you shouldn’t have raised me how you did.”

Adrian was in the middle of speaking when a movement on the back porch caught my eye.

It was a group of men.

And, really, there were groups of men everywhere.

But then I caught sight of something that set him apart.

His hair.

Matteo.

I didn’t stop to think.

I just rushed out the back door, shouldered through the crowd, grabbed Matteo’s hand, and dragged him across the backyard, then behind the barn with me. Where I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, and yanked him down toward me for a long, lingering kiss.

“I missed you too, baby,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine.

I didn’t stop to think.

About being seen.

About being heard.

All I knew at that moment was I needed to feel him close to me again, inside of me again.

Like I said… these Grassi men, they were irresistible.

My lips claimed his again as my hand reached for his, grabbing it, and sliding it up under my skirt. A low growl from him vibrated against my mouth as his fingers slipped inside my panties and started working my clit as my own hands fumbled with his button and zipper.

“No, baby, someone could walk by,” he warned, looking down at me with heavy-lidded eyes as I stroked his cock until he was hard and straining.

“I don’t care,” I told him, releasing his cock to hike up my skirt and shimmy down my panties. “I need you inside me,” I added, lifting a leg, and hooking it around his hip, pulling him close.

A whole-body shiver moved through me at the feel of his head rubbing between my lips, moving upward to press against my aching clit.

“Please, Matteo,” I whimpered as my hips rubbed against him.

“Can’t say no to you and mean it,” he said, shooting me that sexy, lazy smile of his as his cock slid downward, pressed against me for a second, then surged inside.

A moan escaped me as I felt him fill me completely.

His other hand moved down, grabbing my other leg, and yanking it up, making me wrap both of them around his body as he pinned me to the wall and started fucking me.

Not soft or sweet.

Hard and fast and desperate.

Like we hadn’t felt each other in weeks or months instead of just a day.

“Shh, baby, shh,” he murmured as my moans got louder and louder. “Shh,” he added a third time as his hand slapped over my mouth, staying there as he kept fucking me, driving me right to that edge, then over it, sending me crashing down hard into the orgasm that had me clinging to him afterward, aftershocks racking my body.

“That is how I want you to welcome me home every time,” he declared, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

“Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head, tone very serious. And it was hard not to smile at the stricken look on his face. “You’re not allowed to leave me again,” I told him, smiling.

“Never will if I have the choice,” he said, eyes soft. “Love you, baby.”

“I love you too.”

“I was planning for this to be big and romantic,” he said, pressing me more firmly against the wall so he could free a hand to go into his jacket, coming back with a ring. “But I just fucking need you to have it, to see it on your finger, to know you’re on the same page,” he said as I looked down at what had to be the most perfect ring—a baby pink Morganite in a radiant cut on a simple white gold band.

“Yes!” I burst out. I didn’t have to think about it. Not for a minute. Not even for a second. Just… yes. “Yes, absolutely,” I said, offering my hand to slide it on my finger.

And after the long, lingering kiss, he smiled at me.

“I guess you get to plan your own wedding for a change.”

“It will be the biggest one yet,” I said, thinking of all the many Grassi men and women and children.

“Sooner might be better than later,” he added as he lowered me to my feet and slowly slid out of me. “Done that a few too many times without stopping for protection,” he added, looking wholly pleased about it too. “If we wait too long, we might end up doing things out of order.”