Theirs to Protect (Mafia Menage Trilogy 3)

What happened to you? My heart twisted, but I smoothed the anguish from my expression. Marco would think I was disgusted with him if I betrayed even a hint of pain.

With a sharp gesture of my hand, I directed him to sit on the tile seat that lined one side of the shower. He sat, his shoulders slumped and his arms curved around Ashlyn. He settled her in his lap, running his hands over her soft skin, as though he couldn’t help himself. He was just as addicted to her as I was, and even though he hated himself in this moment, he still needed her more than he needed oxygen.

I squeezed some of her favorite rose-scented body wash into a loofa before passing it to Marco. Dutifully, he took it and started gently rubbing it over her skin. As he bathed her, his eyes grew heavy-lidded, and he relaxed into the familiar ritual. Caring for her soothed him like nothing else, and for a few minutes, I hoped that his dark mood had faded completely.

While he washed her, I lathered her long, silken hair. She leaned into our hands with soft moans, loving the feel of us caressing every inch of her, worshipping her.

Once her skin was thoroughly pink from the warm water, I finally turned off the shower and retrieved fluffy towels for each of us. I dried off first before taking Ashlyn from him, taking care of her while he grabbed his own towel.

My heart sank when he didn’t try to take her from me and finish the task that he usually claimed. Her sleepy gaze followed him as he walked out of the bathroom, and a little furrow appeared between her brows.

“Let’s get you in bed, angel,” I murmured before worry could erode her blissful headspace.

“It’s too early to sleep.” She yawned.

I took her hand in mine and led her into the bedroom. “You could use a nap. You’ve been stressed out lately. We should’ve taken care of you sooner.”

She climbed into bed beside Marco, who had already covered himself with a pair of gray sweatpants and a black cotton shirt. Automatically, he hooked an arm around her waist, tucking her back against his chest. She couldn’t see the fine lines of tension around his eyes and mouth, so she settled in with a happy sigh.

I didn’t look at him as I slipped beneath the sheets on her other side. If I studied his troubled features, my own expression would betray my worry. I wouldn’t allow Ashlyn to see that.

We held her until she fell asleep, stroking her hair while I murmured words of praise. Marco was eerily silent, but he touched her with his usual reverence, a reflexive response to having her sleepy and sated in his arms. I waited several minutes after her breathing turned deep and even before I directed Marco to have a private conversation with me.

I fixed him with a hard stare and nodded toward the bedroom door. His expression shuttered, his face smoothing to a blank mask. His movements were tense and jerky as he pushed away from Ashlyn and got to his feet. Each faltering step stiffened his spine, as though the distance caused him physical pain.

In the few seconds it took me to gently extricate myself from Ashlyn’s embrace, he’d already shut the door behind him. My jaw clenched, and it took effort to move silently as I tugged on a pair of sweatpants and followed him. He thought I was kicking him out, exiling him from our bed. Talking him out of this black hole was going to be even harder than I’d thought.

Once I got into the hallway and closed the bedroom door, I stalked after him. Thankfully, he was so intent on putting distance between us that he’d already made his way deep into the house, far away from where Ashlyn might overhear if things got heated. I followed the sound of his stomping footsteps down the stairs, through the foyer and dining room, and into the media room.

He hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, and the dim glow from the waning, late afternoon sun outside barely illuminated the room through the aged bay window. The dark wood paneling that lined the walls only made the room that much darker, as though Marco had retreated into a remote cave to isolate himself from Ashlyn and me.

By the time I reached him, he was picking up his Xbox controller and heading for the massive black leather, L-shaped couch. I stepped directly in front of him, forcing myself into his personal space. “What the fuck, Marco?” If he thought I was going to let him zone out and play a fucking video game, he was sorely mistaken.

Shock slammed into my chest along with his hands as he shoved me away. I stumbled, my back hitting the wall. He advanced on me, his face twisted in a thunderous expression he’d never turned on me before.