Not Mine to Keep (The Costa Family)

“Please, just don’t. Don’t say anything.” I handed Mom her purse and opened the front door. “You knew not to come, and you—”

“I’m sorry. You’re keeping her from me. From us. And I want to get to know my daughter-in-law,” Mom said, looking toward Izzy for an assist. “She can’t even tell her aunt, the woman who raised her, what’s going on, so I thought she could use family around her with you doing your best to keep away.”

Izzy must’ve told Mom all that, dammit. “She’s not my wife. Not really,” I shot out like a knee-jerk reaction, but I wanted the words to curl up and die. I hated them. Hated that truth. “In a few weeks, we’re getting our marriage annulled, and she’s going back to her life, and I’m going back to mine.” Maybe I was angry and pissed, but more than that, I was scared that what I’d said would actually come true. I knew in my gut losing Calliope would kill me, and I wanted to save my family that pain.

Mom looked over my shoulder, and I twisted to the side to see Calliope there. Shit, had she heard me?

Not that it was a secret. That’d been the plan all along. But . . .

Facing my mother, I pleaded, “Please, just go.”

Izzy reached for Mom’s arm, encouraging her along. The sad look in Mom’s eyes was going to destroy me.

They needed to leave before I snapped, but the guilt had me whispering, “I’m sorry.”

Mom peeked in the direction where I knew Calliope was probably still standing, not too far behind me, gave her a little nod goodbye, shot me a dagger or two, then left with Izzy.

I shut the door and set my palms to it, bowing my head as I tried to corral my thoughts and calm down.

“I had no clue they were coming over to talk about the party.” Calliope’s apologetic tone had me forcing myself around.

There was flour on her cheek because of course, Mom would have her cooking with her, too. She lowered her eyes to the marble floors as I ate up the space between us.

I wasn’t sure where Frankie, Leo, or the others were, but this wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have in earshot of anyone. “Can we talk in private?”

Without looking at me, she nodded, then we started for the back stairs to get to the bedroom. I quietly let her lead the way, my mind racing.

Once in the bedroom, I flicked on the overhead lights and locked the door. I pushed my hands into my suit pants pockets so I wouldn’t reach for her and hold her against me with no plans to ever let go.

She went to the dresser and studied her reflection, and like a lost puppy, I followed her over. She swiped at the flour on her cheek before meeting my eyes in the mirror.

“What are we doing?” She set down her hands, hanging her head. “Are we still only playing pretend? And if it’s fake, why is it that when no one’s watching us, it feels the most real? You’re all I think about, and your climbing into bed at night is what I look forward to every day.” She met my eyes in the mirror. “I don’t know how I’m going to survive you walking away from me, which is crazy because tomorrow is only three weeks since we met.” A single tear slipped down her cheek as she obliterated my thoughts with what she’d confessed. “But what you said out there . . . You’ll break my heart, won’t you? You warned me, and I tried to listen. I tried to fight it. But then you did what I asked by being sweet in Nashville, and you’ve been sweet ever since.” Her lower lip quivered as a few more tears fell. “Is Nicole really why you’re this way? Unwilling to commit? To fall?”

I sank into the dark feeling that overtook me at her words, feeling a little dizzy. “Yes and no.” I all but breathed out the confusing response.

I turned away and freed myself of my suit jacket and tie, then undid a few buttons of my gray shirt.

It was now or never. Either I opened up and tried to touch the fire—risk my heart—or I let it shrivel and die in my chest for good.

When I chanced looking at this stunning woman again, I knew the answer. She’d always been worth the risk.

“Not sure what my mom spilled to you already, but Nicole was my high school girlfriend. We were together for five years.” She’d been my first relationship and my last. Well, until Calliope. “Right after I got my Ranger tab, I proposed.”

Calliope’s mouth rounded, and her eyes shot to the ring on her finger.

So Mom didn’t tell you I was engaged? “Nicole said yes, and I was deployed shortly afterward to Afghanistan. There was a daylight mission two weeks later—those always sucked even more—but it had to be done. The op went sideways, and my best friend was killed right in front of me. I couldn’t save him, and knowing that and having to watch it happen . . .” I went over to the bed and dropped down, head in my hands.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” she whispered, sliding her hand up and down my back in soothing motions.

“I think maybe I need to.” I looked up at her, finding her glossy eyes on me. Her nod had me choosing to go on. “I was pretty screwed up about his death. Instead of helping me get through the pain, she broke up with me, saying she couldn’t deal with me being the next to die. Five years together, and she walked away when I needed her the most.” My hands fell to my lap, and Calliope quietly threaded our fingers together. “Then Bianca died, which fucked me up way more. Nicole had the nerve to show up to the funeral with a husband. The real kick to the nuts—he was a Team guy. Military. So she was willing to risk getting her heart broken, just not by me.”

There. That’s my story. Maybe it was a bullshit excuse to turn my back on love for good, but it had made sense to me at the time, and it had kept making sense until this woman had come into my life.

“I’m so sorry.” She slowly pulled her hand from mine and stood, then folded her arms over her chest as if chasing away a chill. “But I’m also . . .” More tears appeared, and she licked one free from her lips. “I’m a horrible person, though.”

I joined her on my feet, unsure I’d heard her right. “How are you a bad person?”

“Because.” Fuck, that sad look and wobbly lip gutted me.

“What is it?” I tipped my head, a hell of a lot more nervous now.

“Because I never would’ve met you if she hadn’t . . . well, screwed you up. And what kind of person does that make me?”

At her confession, I hauled her against me. “It makes you just like me. If Armani hadn’t dragged you into this mess, then you wouldn’t be in my life now, and I’ve felt guilty for being . . . thankful you’re here with me.”

Staying in my arms, she looked up and pointed those gorgeous greens at me. “I kind of love that you feel that way.”

“And I kind of love you’re glad I was an asshole for eighteen years so I could meet you,” I shared in return. More than kind of. Maybe we really were masochists, but we belonged together, didn’t we? “Hunting criminals and risking my life became what I craved over the years. It became an addiction.” I could barely stand to look at her without totally losing it, so I closed my eyes. “And now I’m addicted to you.”

Fuck, even after what Hudson had told me about the Barones’ war-starting plans earlier, all I could think about was this woman.

Calliope worked her arm between our bodies and set her palm to my cheek, and I forced my eyes back open. “What are you saying?”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

I tensed at the only truth I knew that’d been burrowing its way inside me every day since the moment we met. “I’m falling for my wife.” Knowing my voice would probably break when I spoke again, I went ahead and revealed, “I don’t want to say goodbye to you when the time comes.” I paused, giving her a second to absorb my confession. “Or ever . . . I don’t want to say goodbye ever.”

Her downturned mouth had me worried. “And that terrifies you?”

I brought my lips near hers, prepared to kiss away those nerves. “Not nearly as much as losing you does.”

My concerns disappeared when she pushed up and kissed me first. It was the kind of kiss that could heal whatever was still broken inside me.

When her lips left mine, it took me a second to open my eyes.

“Make love to me?” Her fingers began working down the length of my shirt before I had a chance to answer. After waiting eighteen years for this woman to come into my life, I wasn’t about to wait another eighteen seconds to be with her, but . . .

I captured her hand, stopping her from finishing the job of removing my shirt.

There was something about this moment, with us laying our cards on the table and having nothing in between us now, that had me nervous. Fuck, was I ever. I needed to remind myself for a second I was nearly forty and not a fumbling twentysomething with no clue how to pleasure a woman.

But make love? How the hell do I do that?

“What’s wrong?” With her free hand, she brought her palm to my face and ran it along my clenched jaw.

“How do we . . . ?” I choked out, feeling ridiculous, but I wanted this to be what she wanted and needed, and I’d spent almost two decades removing emotions from the equation.

She slid her palm down the column of my throat and to my bare chest, drawing her hand beneath my open shirt. “The only difference is you use your heart this time.” Her light-green gaze flew to my face as she added, “You look me in the eyes like you wanted to last time.”

I let go of her wrist and dragged my hands along her silhouette and around to her ass before lifting her up to carry her to the bed.

“Pretty sure my heart was in it back at the office, too.” Climbing over her, I held the brunt of my weight on my forearms, staring down at her.

“Mine, too.” She reached between us, searching for my belt. I’d forgotten we were both still dressed.

Tonight, I took my time removing our clothes. I stretched out every moment of every single second, because tomorrow wasn’t promised.

Once we were both naked and back on my bed, I worked my mouth from the inside of her ankle up her thigh, slowly swiping the pad of my thumb along her other leg. I skipped over her pussy, which had her clawing at my hair with an adorable groan of frustration.

Mouth over her belly button next. Then up to her breasts. Her taut nipples.

“I’ll know every inch of your body before the night is over. Every freckle. Every spot that makes you laugh,” I promised before working my way back to her face, prepared to take her mouth again.

She anchored her arm behind the back of my neck, urging me closer as she arched into me.

“What if we make love first, then foreplay second? Then sex again?” She bit her lip, staring at me with those seductive eyes of hers. “Then repeat in a different order. And throw a little naughty and dirty in there for good measure, too.”

My stiff cock pressed against her center, lined up in the perfect spot, begging to give my little siren what she wanted and then some.

“You don’t want my mouth on you first? You’re sure?”

She bucked against me at my words, my lips hovering over hers so close I could nearly taste her already. “I need you inside me.” Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “But I want to feel you . . . you know?”

My arms tensed, going as rock hard as my dick at what she was asking. “Bare?”

“That breath you just took . . . Is that your about-to-lose-control one or your panicked one? They’re close. I can’t tell right now because I’m so nervous.” She kept moving her hips in tempting little circles, and the invitation to feel this woman was too much.

But she wasn’t just anyone. Fuck, you’re my wife. We’d said vows before God. Signed the paperwork. It’s not pretend. It’s real. The idea of her having my child didn’t scare me. But her giving Armani an heir sure as hell did.

I hated to break the moment, to destroy it with that reminder, but it needed to be done.

Not that I had a chance to do it, because she beat me to it. “I know what you’re thinking.” She gave me a little nod as if that would settle things. It didn’t. “What if you pull out just before?”

A low laugh rumbled free. Was she kidding?

Her other hand went to my chest, and she parked it there. She’d see how much my heart really was in this right now. “I know what’s at stake. It’d be crazy; I get that.” I lost sight of her eyes as she sealed them shut, but she didn’t stop moving her hips. Didn’t stop grinding against my cock. Didn’t stop killing me.

“But it’d also be very us,” I admitted, and that earned me her eyes again. “Three weeks tomorrow since we met . . . are you sure you want to risk it?” And yet, I could see us together, not in a penthouse but on a farm. Lots of land. Animals. Our children running around. Holy fuck, what’s happening to me?

“Three weeks. Three years. Three decades.” A soft breathy sigh left her mouth, and I knew her breaths and looks, too. That was my determined, strong woman peering at me. “If you know, you know.” Her brows slanted. “The question is, do you know, too? And do you want it?”

I bit down on my back teeth, resisting the urge to push inside her as my answer. “I’ll pull out, but if . . .” I let the warning hang in the air for a beat. “You sure you want my kid inside of you if it were to happen?”

“Give my child you as a father?” She nodded, emotion catching in her voice when she added, “Yeah, you could say I’d be good with that.”

Me, a father? Leaning in even closer, I kissed away the tear at the edge of her eye, then reached between us to position my cock at her center. She gave me a firm nod of permission, and I pushed inside her. The connection freed whatever had been caged inside my chest for so long. No longer trapped there for what felt like an eternity.

I gave this woman my soul just then, knowing she’d redeem it.

And I’d give it to her again and again, no matter what.

Die for her. Sacrifice the world for her.

Do anything for her if she asked.

She cried out my name and moved with me, lifting her ass from the bed, allowing me to bury myself even deeper inside her.

When I flipped us around, she straddled me. A devilish smirk that was the sexiest smile I’d seen in my life cut across her mouth as she sat tall, hands on my chest, riding me. I needed her to fall to pieces all over my cock.

She slid up and down a few times before rubbing her clit against me, chasing her orgasm. Her fingers curled on my chest as she climbed closer to release, and I felt her tightening around me. It took all my strength and energy not to come inside her as her yeses became louder and breathier.

When she collapsed on top of me from coming, I flipped her back around and moved slowly in and out of her, helping her orgasm last a bit longer.

“When you’re ready, come on my stomach,” she said in a hazy, orgasm-drunk tone.

“Fuuuck,” I hissed, two seconds away from coming inside her instead, and I pulled out and did as she asked, grunting as I exploded all over her soft stomach.

“That’s . . . a lot,” she said with a laugh while looking down at her stomach as I rolled off to her side.

“Yeah, well—your fault. You make me crazy.” I gave her a quick kiss before standing so I could grab a cloth to clean her up.

When I returned with a warm, wet towel, I sat next to her, and she snatched my wrist and lifted her brows a few playful times. “Or we could move to the shower. You know, foreplay time. Maybe get you hard again with my mouth.”

“No ‘maybe’ about that.” Dipping in, I captured her lower lip between my teeth and gently tugged. “I loved making love to you,” I whispered. “But I’m also going to enjoy fucking you up against my shower wall.” Mouth to her ear now, I let my breath tease the sensitive part of her lobe. “Arms up. Tits smashed to the tile. My cock against your perfect ass while I fill your pussy.”

She turned her cheek to find my lips. “I’m getting wet again already, and all you’ve done is talk dirty.”

“I’m just getting started, sweetheart. You asked for all night, and my wife gets what she wants.”