Page 118 of Hostile Love
“You drive me wild, but…”
“Business first,” she whispers, her breathing quick and her smokey eyes intense.
“Yeah…” I mumble, peppering kisses on her face. “Afterwards…”
I force myself to unhand her and fiddle with my tie for something else to do with my hands.
Dani reluctantly inches away and pats her hair, checking the comb is still in place. Her lipstick is smudged, which means I’m wearing it too.
“I wish we could have some time alone, Mat.” She pulls back her shoulders and sighs. “Away from everyone and for longer than just a few hours.”
Maybe it’s not the best idea to kill the gap between us again. But I do.
I lick my thumb and rub it under the seam of her bottom lip, cleaning up her smudged lipstick.
“Your wish is my command…but first we have a job to do.”
“Have I ever told you, you look hot in a suit?”
She plucks out my pocket square, reaches up and wipes around my mouth too.
“I prefer you naked though and without lipstick.”
Her gentle laughter sends tingles down my spine. I fucking love that sound, because I’m the only person who gets to hear it. I swoop in and kiss the tip of her nose.
“Te amo, Daniela Blanco.”
“Te amo, Matheus Souza.”
Taking her hand, we head into the chapel side by side and walk down the aisle, moving closer to a white-haired priest whose round glasses have steamed up from the humidity.
Beside the altar, Giovanni fixes his cuffs, and André saunters to the tall window, staring out at the trees.
The guests chatter amongst themselves while music drifts through speakers rigged within each corner.
Family members sit to the left and our associates on the right.
They don’t seem to realize the ratio of male to female is heavily weighted towards men.
When I catch my grandfather’s watchful eyes, he nods respectfully, whereas Uncle Conal glances over his shoulder at the only exit. He clearly senses the weird vibe, and when he mutters to Tiernan and Michael, they both frown.
Next to enter the chapel is Shane, my big brother's second in command and best friend. He also happens to be Conal’s adopted son. Although they don’t have much of a relationship.
Shane wears an identical suit to us Souza brothers. The material strangles his broad shoulders and thick arm muscles. Clearly, he had spent little time with the tailor who underestimated his ox-like build.
Gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses partially hide the silver scars on his face and the top button on his collar is wide open where a neck tattoo peeks out.
He prowls towards us, half salutes, and moves into the pew directly in front of the Hennesseys, grunting when he sits.
Behind me, Giovanni’s phone buzzes seconds before an immaculately presented Tomás strolls indoors with Mama hooked on his arm.
Her pale complexion is flawless under a thin veil of foundation and her green eyes are amplified by the dark eyeshadow accenting her lids.
A wide-brimmed hat sits at an angle on her head and a pair of diamond earrings dangle from her lobes, complimenting her sophisticated shamrock green dress.
Together they walk towards us, united and regal in their appearance. Pride brightens every inch of her expression, and she nods gracefully to her seated relations as she passes by.
Mama’s hawk-eyed bodyguard lingers at the end of Shane’s bench, waiting for her to take a seat.
