Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles 5)

“Let’s take a walk,” Diego said.

“That’s the lamest pick up line you’ve ever used, and I’ve heard them all.”

Diego didn’t crack a smile.

So that was how it was going to be? I followed him, trying to stifle my amusement. Did he really think he could intimidate me? Because I had no doubt that that was his plan.

One look at Diego’s face and I knew he had prepared a speech. Maybe he’d forgotten that I had grown up with Nino and Remo. Scaring me wasn’t exactly easy, especially looking like he did. “Maybe you should pull up your zipper and button your shirt properly, so I can take you seriously.”

With a grimace, he tried to fix his clothes.

When he stopped our stroll, it was so far from the party that the sounds of celebration were only a distant echo and the spot lay in shadows.

Diego shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’re my best friend,” he began.

That wasn’t what I’d expected.

“I’ve always tried to protect Gemma.”

“You don’t need to protect her from me. I won’t hurt her. She’ll be safer than she’s ever been before. The name Falcone will protect her and so will I with every twisted Falcone cell in my fucking body.”

“I’m not worried about anyone else being a danger to her. What I’m worried about is how you treat her.”

“Fuck, I’ve turned into a monk these last two months. If that doesn’t show that I’m serious about Gemma, I don’t know what will.”

Diego huffed out a laugh. “I didn’t think you’d ever go without sex. And I really didn’t think you’d wait for her. I thought you’d find a way to talk her into sleeping with you before the wedding.”

“Thank fuck the wait will be over tonight.”

Diego’s lips curled. “Yeah… I’d rather not think about it.”

“Maybe you have some last-minute tips. Remo wasn’t very helpful.”

“I doubt you need any advice,” Diego muttered, looking increasingly uncomfortable which spurred me on.

“There’s one thing I’ve never done, but you have. If I remember correctly, you popped Toni’s cherry.”

“Shut up,” he said. “I’m not going to talk to you about that. And I don’t want to know a fucking thing about your night with my sister. Just keep it to yourself.” He began walking away, and I followed. I had absolutely no intention of sharing information about my sex life with Gemma with anyone.

When we returned to the party, it had just struck midnight.

“Bed her, bed her!” called the first member of Gemma’s family. Trust the Traditionalists to have a fixed time when to fuck your wife. For once, I was glad for their traditions. I didn’t even have to force my brothers to start the chorus.

I inclined my head toward the man, and soon more people shouted the words, including my brothers. Only Adamo stood with his arms crossed and rolled his eyes. I spotted Gemma next to Toni at our table. Her face was turning increasingly red.

I made my way over to her, trying not to look too eager. I was a grown-ass man and not a teenager before his very first fuck. When I passed Remo, he murmured, “I put a bottle of whiskey in your bedroom.”

I chuckled, especially seeing the frosty look Serafina sent her husband.

Then I reached Gemma. She looked like she was about to take flight. Her mom and Toni quickly hugged her as if she was about to endeavor on a dangerous adventure.

Maybe the rumors about me being an animal in bed had reached their ears. I stifled my amusement. I’d always known my bull tattoo would only add more fuel to the fire. But while I had every intention of pounding Gemma into the bed very soon, tonight wouldn’t be like that.

Every girl I’d been with had come with me, and if I had to eat out Gemma all night for that to happen, then I’d gladly do it.

I took her hand and started to lead her toward the house. A crowd followed us, shouting all kinds of suggestions. Gemma’s cheeks practically glowed red by the time we reached the French doors.

I turned to the crowd of drunk men. “This is as far as you’re allowed to come.”

“As long as you make your wife come tonight!” someone shouted in the back.

“Oh, I intend to!” I shot back.

Gemma made a small horrified sound, and I decided to spare her further mortification. I opened the doors for her and after she’d stepped in, I followed her and closed them again.

The shouts of the crowd were muffled now.

Gemma wrung her hands, looking around the room. This was the living area in my wing, but it wasn’t time for a tour of the house. I lifted her into my arms, earning a startled gasp. Her eyes flew up to meet mine.

Her dress was beautiful but made carrying Gemma a difficult task, especially up the stairs, but eventually we arrived at my, now our, bedroom. I could already feel blood shooting into my dick, just thinking about tonight.