Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles 5)
I caught Remo’s eyes who stood next to me with his arms crossed and a mildly pissed expression. Nino wore a look of mild exasperation. For him, it was completely unreasonable to believe in God. Good thing that he hadn’t involved Gemma’s conservative family into a discussion about the existence of a higher power. Knowing my brothers and my devilish little nephew, it would be a miracle if this wedding ended without a scandal and half of the Bazzolis never talking a word to us again. Only Adamo managed an expression that suggested he actually listened to a word the priest said, though he was probably daydreaming about the next street race in two weeks.
Gemma’s “I do” cut through my thoughts and I quickly returned my focus to the front. The look she sent me made it clear that she knew I hadn’t paid attention.
“I do,” I said firmly, and then ice-cold realization hit me. Right this second, I was a married man. From the corner of my eye, I caught Fabiano and Remo exchange surprised looks. Had they thought I’d say no? I wouldn’t put it past them to have placed bets on the outcome of this day. If that was the case, I wished they’d told me so I could have placed my own wager.
Greta tiptoed toward us in her pale pink flower girl dress, led by Nevio in his tux. Without him, she would have never walked down the aisle with so many people watching. I gave Nevio a warning look. If the little monster did anything to mess up this day, I’d kick his devious ass. In spite of himself, Nevio didn’t as much as make a face. He looked focused on Greta. Those two were like yin and yang. He and Greta stopped in front of us. Greta held up the ring cushion, giving me a tiny smile. She didn’t once look at the priest, Gemma or anyone else.
Gemma leaned down and whispered something that made my niece smile a bit wider, surprising me briefly, but then my eyes were drawn to Gemma’s back, which was bare. Her defined back and elegant shoulder blades, her delicious spine that I wanted to run my tongue over. My pulse sped up. Gemma straightened with the ring in her hand and faced me.
I don’t know what my expression was like, but it must have reflected my hunger because Gemma’s cheeks turned red. “Your hand,” she whispered, and I held out my hand for her.
She slipped the ring on. I bent down to Greta and took the remaining ring. This time I’d opted for a less obnoxious ring, a simple gold band with a few diamonds. “Thank you, dollface.”
Nevio pouted.
“And thanks to you.”
Together they turned around as I straightened. I gripped Gemma’s hand and slid the ring on her finger. A familiar wave of possessiveness washed over me, seeing my ring on Gemma’s hand. Glancing at my own hand, I realized that now I, too, would wear a sign that made me someone else’s. It was a strange feeling, knowing Gemma would be the woman I’d spend the rest of my life with, the only woman I’d have sex with…
“You may kiss the bride,” the priest said, tearing me from my thoughts.
I smirked.
Snaking my arm around Gemma’s waist, my palm pressed to the soft, hot skin of her back, I pulled her against me.
“Behave,” she said almost desperately a second before my mouth crashed down on hers. The priest had given his official blessing for a kiss, so Gemma’s stuck-up family could suck it up. Sliding my lips over Gemma’s soft ones, I nudged her open with my tongue. Gemma tensed, but I didn’t give her a chance to react, pulling her even closer, my pinky slipping below the fabric of her dress to tease her tailbone as my tongue tasted her. Applause rang out in the church, at first only by a few people, probably orchestrated by Remo, until everyone fell in.
Eventually I pulled back, breathing heavily. I would have kept kissing Gemma if blood hadn’t started pooling in my cock. A hard-on in church was definitely something that Gemma would hold against me. Gemma’s skin was flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes lidded. For a moment before she remembered herself, desire filled her gaze and fuck it, I wanted to throw her over my shoulder right then and carry her to the car so I could take her to a secluded place where I could have my way with her.
Then Gemma’s eyes narrowed, and realization settled on her features, her eyes darting to our audience.
Outside of the church the guests gathered around us, clinking champagne glasses and cheering. Remo and Serafina were the first to congratulate us, of course. As Capo and my brother, it was his honor. He shook his head, then grabbed my hand and pulled me against him to hug me briefly. Many men avoided public displays of affection, especially if they were a high-ranking mobster. Remo knew he didn’t need to impress anyone. Every person in the room respected or even feared him. “I can’t fucking believe that you’re married. I was sure you’d pull a Hugh Hefner on all of us.”