Page 160 of The Mafia's Broken Vows

Dante covers my hand with his, his thumb drawing circles on my skin. “You’re all I want.”

“You don’t want much, do you?”

“Not when you’ve brought me the entire universe. Grazie, tesoro.”

I lean in, my lips brushing his ear. “Well, there’s a reason the universe decided to share your birthday with the twins. It’s telling us to pull that service stick out of your ass and enjoy being loved on.”

His breath hitches. In an instant, his hand tangles in my hair, pulling me into a kiss that’s all heat and hunger. I melt into him, my body responding with a familiar ache. Even now, Dante ignites a fire in me with a single look.

“If you wanted that stick out of my ass,” he growls against my lips, “you should have just asked. I’d be happy to put it somewhere else.”

A laugh bubbles up in my throat, equal parts arousal and amusement. “Promises, promises,” I tease.

We lose ourselves in the moment, hands roaming, breaths mingling. I playfully nibble his bottom lip – a move guaranteed to drive him wild. Dante groans, dragging me across the console onto his lap. The kiss turns decadent. I repeat the move, and he tears his mouth away, sliding his thumb across my lower lip.

“Such a bad girl,” he whispers.

“What? I’m just giving you a birthday kiss,” I purr, catching his thumb between my lips.

In the backseat, Luca sleeps on, blissfully unaware of his parents’ indiscretions. It’s a rare moment of uninterrupted intimacy, and we’re both reluctant to let it end.

Dante’s voice grows husky with unmistakable desire. “Did you want to give me a party or a present?”

“Both. But you’ll have to wait until after the first to unwrap the second.”

“Fuck that.” He slides the seat all the way back. “Get on your knees. Now.”

I laugh. “Not a chance, perv. Not when Luca is two feet away.”

“Sleeping like a rock. Do it.”

His rough command sends a jolt of arousal through me. But before I can contemplate obeying, a sharp rap on the window shatters our bubble. Antonella stands outside, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. “If you two are quite finished,” she calls through the glass, “your guests are waiting.”

Dante groans, resting his forehead against mine. “Saved by the bell.”

“Yeah right. I wasn’t going to do that!” I try to scramble off his lap, but he holds me fast, chuckling.

“Hell yes, you were, Addy. You were literally salivating.”

“You’re disgusting, you know that?”

“Disgustingly accurate,” he deadpans, and we both burst into laughter.

Antonella raps again. “Anytime this year, kids.”

We unlock the doors and pour out of the car, and I straighten my teal curve-hugging maxi dress.

Antonella immediately reaches into the back and lifts Luca from his car seat. Jarred from his nap, he blinks owlishly, his dark hair falling into his eyes. Then recognition dawns, and his round face splits into a gummy smile. His green eyes—so like mine—sparkle as a string of delighted squeals escapes him.

“There’s my precious bambino!” Antonella coos, scooping him up with practiced ease. Luca immediately makes a grab for her diamond earrings, his taste in jewelry apparently as expensive as his father’s taste in cars.

Dante’s hand finds the small of my back as we follow Antonella into the house. The aroma of grilling meat and freshly baked bread mingles with the scent of flowers. Music drifts from the garden, a melodic backdrop to the cheerful chatter and laughter.

“No climbing on the—accidenti! Antonio! Put that down now! Tommy, don’t eat that!” Enzo, looking like he’s gone ten rounds with a tornado, is in hot pursuit of his six identical toddlers. The two-year-old terrors giggle maniacally as they duck and weave around priceless antiques, their father always a step behind and a curse word ahead.

Suddenly, one of the boys spots Dante. “Uncle Dante!” he shrieks, and like a well-oiled machine, all six toddlers screech to a halt and turn toward us. It’s eerily reminiscent of how Dante’s men snap to attention when he enters a room.

Dante grins, crouching down with open arms. “Come here, you little monsters!”

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