If torture had a sound, it was the one gurgling out of Capone’s cavernous chest.
To regain self-control, he cupped her face, saw arousal looking back. He smirked and dropped a soft kiss to her pouty lips and then shared something he never thought he’d ever say to Lucia because, on their weekly calls, he kept the conversation at surface level. Never allowing his mind to go to their one night together.
“For weeks after we had sex, knowing how many times I came inside you, I waited for you to let me know I got you pregnant.”
The darkest part of his confession was he’d fucking hoped so hard he had knocked her up because it would have meant he had a reason to keep her without his anger, guilt, and vengeance getting in the way.
Capone expected her to laugh, to kiss him again, tempting him like a she-devil, but the reaction from Lucia was not that, at all.
She froze on the spot, and all he saw was fear as her skin paled.
“Lucia… what’s wrong?”
“I…” she started, her lips opened and closed.
Shock and realization came at him from all corners. Don’t ask him how he knew, but he did, and his breath hung back in his lungs.
“Lucia?”
“Oh, my god. I can’t.” She tried to close her legs, but Capone had no intention of moving. He stroked his hands up her arms, cupping her face again.
“Nena, talk to me.”
“Don’t hate me,” she pleaded, her voice cracking. Any hint of her arousal vanished in seconds, and she was now ashen-faced with eyes that sheened. “I wasn’t going to tell you this way.”
He knew.
Heknew.
He felt it in his fucking bones what she was going to say.
Listening to her say words likesorryandscaredandmiscarriage. It was as though time stood still. The air sucked out of the room, and he felt his chest cave.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her lower lip quivering until she sucked it in between her teeth. Lucia’s hands crawled up his chest. “I didn’t know. I swear it. It was over before I even knew I was pregnant. I would have told you… but I was scared you’d be mad at me. It was gone before I knew about it, only a few weeks, the doctor said.”
Oh,Dios, his girl.
He’d put her through some emotional shit by keeping her at arm’s length, so fucking terrified of letting go because he knew he’d become consumed in her if he did. Capone had no clue that emotional shit had started on day fucking one.
Gathering her in, he held her tight to his chest, quieting her until he felt her settle.
“Fuck. I should have known; I should have come back to make sure you were okay. This is on me, you got it? You did nothing wrong.”
“But I…”
“Listen to me, Lucia. You don’t have to be afraid to tell me anything. There isn’t anything you could say to make me hate you.” Holding her face, he dropped a soft kiss to her trembling lips. Couldn’t see her crying; it would destroy him. “I’m crazy about my brother’s wife, so I have you beat on being hated.”
She gasped and then half-smiled, “you’re crazy about me?”
“Lucia.” He replied as a way of an answer. She had to know how he felt.
“I could never hate you, either. Not for anything.” Then she pressed their foreheads together. He could see the dilation of her pupils, the heat on her cheeks.
His woman was a needy thing, and he fucking loved it.
“I’m crazy about my brother-in-law, if you didn’t already know.” She confessed, blowing apart his composure with a few simple words that meant too much to him.
Wanted her savage for his fucks and his arms around her and his mouth pressed to her pulse.