Hey everyone. Hope you're all doing well.

Thoughts, comments, concerns so far? I love to hear from you guys! Let me know if you're reading and enjoying this, blah blah blah...

Also, how do you guys think Ros should tell her parents about this... mess she's in?

XOXO Ami

BTW, Ros is feeling a little sassy today.

***

Alex and he looks like he's been punched in the face one too many times.

My thigh brushes Nero's as we sit across from Alex in Nero's living room. I study Alex's crooked nose, the scar above his eyebrow, the crease in his upper lip.

Nero didn't want me to be here at first, but he relented eventually. (I slid my way down the contours of his lean body when we woke up this morning, and made him curse my name while I touched every inch of his hardness with my mouth. Spoiler: I swallowed.)

"Santino," Alex begins, addressing Nero but eyeing me from the corner of his eye, "I don't trust her." There's a gap between his top front teeth that's visible when he talks.

Nero rolls his eyes. Something about the way he's sitting, the tone of his voice, is different. He's on official business today, I guess. His presence reminds me vaguely of those early days, when he'd press me menacingly against the wall, nasty threats leaving those perfect lips. For some stupid and unknown reason, the whole idea of it turns me on.

"Doesn't matter," Nero responds brusquely. "You know what I need from you, Alex. Are we going to have any problems?" The rough, commanding tenor of each word makes my skin warmer somehow.

Alex narrows his eyes, thinks about it for a long moment. "When Marco tracks me down, what reason do I give him? He's gonna know that you're behind this, amico."

I guess Alex isn't a complete moron.

Nero doesn't look fazed. "Tell him the Santirellis paid you off."

I think Alex's face pales. "If any of your guys hear me say that, Nero, they'll cut off my balls and deliver them to you on a silver platter."

That very unpleasant image burns itself into my imagination.

I hear a small, sardonic chuckle leave Nero's mouth. "I'll tell them to look the other way."

In my head, I find this intriguing. Nero is asking Alex for a favor, but it feels like it's the other way around. It makes me wonder what the hell Nero has on this guy.

Alex curses under his breath in Italian. "When do you want me to do it?"

Nero arches one of those perfect dark brows. "As soon as you leave here, you're going to pay a visit to Niccolo Santirelli."

Alex chokes. "What?"

"You don't think Marco is watching me? He sees you visit me and then you turn him in. What does that tell him?"

I can see the panic filling Alex's face. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

"What the fuck am I gonna say to fucking Niccolo Santirelli?"

A shrug. "Offer to turn Marco and Franco in for a price. He'll laugh in your face. But you'll cover your tracks."

It's an elegant plan, I realize. I pray to whoever's listening that it works.

Nero and Alex squabble over a few more details. When Alex eventually leaves, a sliver of hope bubbles up beneath my skin.

"Dolcezza," he mumbles, running a finger down my cheek. "There's one more thing I haven't told you."

Heat rushes from where he touches me to the rest of my body. "What is it?"

He sighs, and I know that I'm not gonna like it. "Once Alex meets with the RCMP, all hell will break loose."

I think about what will happen. The police will hunt down Marco and Franco. They'll run, they'll go after whoever they think turned them in. All the mobsters will pick sides. It'll be chaos, I realize.

My eyes widen, and I think he must see the concern and worry that fill them. His hand cups my cheek, a thumb brushing beneath my eye, his long fingers stroking the side of my head.

"I'll keep you safe, Rosalyn." A small, reassuring smile. "But we can't stay here while it happens."

I take a step forward, my forehead coming to press against his solid chest. His hands hold me against him. "Where will we go?"

"Leave town, just for a few days. A week, max."

"A week?" I pull away from him, incredulous. No, this isn't going to work. "Nero, I have a job! I have to meet my parents for dinner tomorrow night. I can't..." My mind races and my feet drift over to his couch, collapsing onto it. "Why didn't you tell me sooner, Nero? At least then I could've planned ahead. I could've prepared." Does he seriously think I'm just gonna leave town with him?

What will I tell my parents? What will I tell my boss?

He runs a distracted hand through his thick hair, looking almost guilty. "I realized this morning that staying here would be a bad idea. You know Marco. He knows you. It's not safe here, dolcezza." His voice is soft, it asks silently for forgiveness and understanding.

I shake my head, giving him a dirty look. I know he wants me to be safe, but this is too much. "I'm not leaving for a week, Nero." He walks closer, and the displeasure slowly melts from my face as he sits on the coffee table in front of me, the tips of our knees just touching. "I'll go out as little as possible. I won't answer the door unless I know who it is. I'll be extra careful." It will be enough, won't it?

"Rosalyn," he breathes gruffly, and his voice is low and rough and the sound comes from that place low in his throat. Something clenches in my gut. His eyes swallow me whole. He's worried about me and the look he gives me on that perfect, perfect, beautiful face makes my panties melt to the floor.

"Don't look at me like that, Nero," I whisper, blushing.

He raises a dark brow. "Like what?" That voice again.

I shake my head, trying to be angry with him but I can't. I think there's something wrong with me because I can't, can never, seem to be able to stay mad at him, even when he deserves it. "Like you're worried about me. And like you want to see me naked."

A small, crooked smile tilts up the edges of his lips, a glimmer captures his eyes. "I always want to see you naked."

I try to fight the smile that threatens to overtake my irritation. "Marco will have bigger things to worry about, Nero, than me."

I can almost see the thoughts whizzing through his mind. "Maybe." He reaches out, runs his thumb smoothly over the curves of my mouth, and a small breath escapes me. "Are you sure I can't convince you to leave, carina? We could go to the mountains." A small, wry smile. "I still owe you a million orgasms, remember?"

Tempting. Oh so tempting.

"I can't, Nero. You know I can't." I bite the inside of my cheek. I might not be able to be angry with him, but I can definitely force him to make up for his stupidity. I plaster an innocent look on my face. "But you can try to convince me."

I watch the sparkle in those dark eyes, my lips parting as I follow the movement of his hand. It reaches out, tugs at the front of my blouse, the other hand sliding beneath my thigh, until he's pulled me onto his lap. "You're insatiable," I complain as he runs his fingers through my hair, pushing it away from my face.

He leans his forehead against mine. "I'm in love," he reasons dryly, and with those three words all my hostility vanishes into the air. He holds me by the waist as I straddle his hips, and his nose travels across my cheek, down my chin, over my jaw. He places a soft kiss onto my neck and my hands travel through his thick hair, grip the back of his head as he brushes his lips across my skin, over my collarbone, down to the neckline of my blouse.

I sigh, and with those strong arms, muscles rippling beneath his shirt, he lifts me up and carries me to his bedroom, tossing me onto the bed with my legs wrapped tightly around his torso.

He trails a path down my body, pressing his mouth onto my navel. He undoes the button and the zipper on my jeans while I peel off my blouse. He slides my pants and underwear off in one fluid motion, and I can feel his warm breath at the apex of my thighs. Something deep between my legs clenches with desire. "You're mine, Rosalyn," he mumbles against the inside of my thigh.

I shiver with want and then let out a helpless whimper when he covers my slick folds with his mouth, knowing exactly where to push and lick and suck and then too quickly he's gone. A confused breath leaves my mouth but then he's kissing me, the taste of my wetness coating his lips. "I don't want anything to happen to you, amore mio." He deftly unclasps my bra, takes a taught nipple into his mouth while a thumb rolls roughly over the other.

The sounds that escape me are desperate and needy and I push my hips upwards into him. He's still fully clothed. "Strip, Nero," I mumble against the top of his hair, tugging restlessly at his shirt.

He sits upwards, complying by pulling off each layer of clothing, one at a time. "You're the only person who orders me around like that, dolcezza." As he slips off his boxers, I tear apart the condom wrapper and we slide the latex over his hardness, fingers tangling together impatiently.

"Someone needs to keep you in line," I retort, but he gives me a dark look, the one that means I'm gonna regret opening my mouth.

Seconds later, he pushes roughly into me, and I whimper his name, my hips matching each deep thrust as we move together, higher and higher into the stars. He swears in Italian, breaths hot against my ear. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?" he mumbles against my lips, and I notice the frustration and worry still lingering beneath the surface of his hooded eyes. "I just want you to be safe, Rosalyn."

He hits a soft spot inside me that makes me cry out his name. My lips tangle with his, caring and annoyed and our movements are rough but tender, he's loving me and fucking me at the same time.

The tips of my fingers bury themselves into the hard muscle of his back. "You can't control everything, Nero." My voice is a strangled whisper. I'm so damn close.

He pulls out nearly all the way before thrusting back in so deep that I lose the ability to form words. "I know," he grumbles, and I can feel the tenseness radiating from him, his body begging for release. "But I can control this." Another hard, gentle thrust of his hips. Another ragged breath leaves my mouth.

I want to argue that he doesn't control this, that I'm not his to control. But my hips meet his frantically and I realize that we own each other, here, now, in this bed, and so I just sigh, "I'm yours, Nero," against his mouth and then we shatter into a thousand pieces together, the tension leaving each muscle and his heat filling me and my heat surrounding him.

We grip each other, hands everywhere, cursing and swearing as we ride this unbearable, impossible, consuming high together. It's obscene, it's heaven and hell at the same time.

When we fall back to earth, he holds me and I hold him and we breathe the same warm, messy air. "Fuck, Nero," I gasp into his neck, tasting our sweat plastered onto his skin.

His fingers are completely possessive yet somehow light as they rest on my hips, my back. "You drive me so fucking insane, anima mia."

My hand sits against the planes of his chest, my voice small and hoarse from the number of times I cried out his name. "What does that mean?"

His words rumble against the top of my head and travel through me. "It means that you're the most important thing in this entire fucking world, and that the thought of something happening to you makes me sick." He sounds so tired and so helpless and my heart breaks into two.

"It'll be okay, Nero." His large hand drifts through my hair as a tear rolls down my cheek and lands onto his bare chest. "I love you." I try to comfort him with those three perfect, soft words. "So much that it hurts."

"I love you too, vita mia."

It's emotional and painful and so hot it burns, and we hold onto each other tight as we fall into an exhausted sleep.

***

A/N:

Didn't mean to end it on such a heavy note, but it just happened. Sorry fam.

Also, anyone tired of all the sex yet...? You can be honest, I won't bite.

I'm not tired of it, but that's just me ;)

XOXO Ami

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