Initiate Me (28 page)

Brandon. Dead. Twenty-five years old. His life had only just started. He was always so full of happiness and joy. That was all gone. That light was forever extinguished. It was a beautiful service but I couldn't stay in the church a minute longer. I was suffocating; I had to leave. I calmly stood and discreetly walked out the door, even though my legs were urging me to run. The air outside was so thick and humid, it was impossible to suck enough air into my lungs. I felt as if I was drowning. I closed my eyes, hating the feeling I was experiencing.

Zane's voice brought me out of my dark thoughts. “Mia?”

I flinched when he touched me.

“Baby, come on; let go of the railing.”

Railing? I looked down at my white-knuckled grip I had on the metal handrail, then at Zane standing next to me. Tears dripped down my cheeks. My mouth couldn’t form any words.

He attempted to pry my fingers free. “Mia. Please. You’re scaring me. I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes.”

Something about his tone spurred me to act. My fingers uncurled, but I'd been clutching the metal so hard, I'd lost all feeling in my hands. I was numb all the way to the bone.

How long had I been standing there in shock, lost in grief and disbelief?

Zane took me by the arm and half-shoved me in the back of his cab truck. “Let's go home, angel. I need to get you home.”

"I'm so sorry I’m such a mess,” I said to him.

“All the more reason for you to let me help you.”

It felt like an eternity had passed before something shifted in me. I struggled to get out of the truck, totally in a trance, but I allowed Zane to guide me into the pub and upstairs to bed for some much needed sleep.

Once he'd settled beside me, I twined my arms around him, tangling my legs with his. “Stay with me, angel. Don’t go. Stay the night with me. I'll deal with your father if he says anything, which I don't think he will,” he whispered thickly against my throat. “I’m here for you. There’s no place I’d rather be than with you, Mia. You know that, right?”

My whole body relaxed as I expelled a deep sigh and felt Zane's fingers trailing up and down my spine as sleep overtook me.

We spent many nights talking and just lying awake in each other’s arms, comforting one another. Zane helped me shake the events of that awful day away and move forward. Some days were harder than others, but I had Zane. I wasn’t sure how anyone could ever move forward from something like that. But I missed Brandon so much, especially at the office. I was always expecting him to barge through my office door at any given moment and ask me to go down for a latte with him. Brandon's death had changed us both, but where did we go from there? How would I move on?

Grief sucked big time.

***

ZANE

A
fter a leisurely meal, which turned out to be romantic and fun, even amidst a noisy Thursday-night crowd at my bar, Mia helped me lock up for the night. I could tell Pep Brunetti was not impressed Mia was spending so many nights with me, but he never said a word. If he did, I'd have something to say to him. I told Max that I would pursue her at the convention, and if she so much as told me to stop, I'd back off and move on. She didn't. That woman couldn't resist me. I couldn't give a shit what the her family thought. Mia was mine.

Looking at her as she tidied up the pool table had my dick instantly rigid. Sweet baby Jesus, she looked hot. I had been having some insane fantasies about that pool table and I needed to create some new memories for her to erase all the bad ones she had about the pub.
No time like the present
.

We didn't even make it to the bedroom before I'd stripped her slowly. Silently. I lay her down on the pool table and when she was bare before me, I murmured, “I knew I’d find my angel under here.”

Her eyes, always so expressive, were oddly wary when she whispered, “Am I really your angel?”

“Goddamn right you are. I’m not here with you because you’re a Brunetti. I’m with you because it feels right. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m where I’m meant to be.”

“Are you sure that's not all that scotch talking you had at dinner tonight?”

“It’s me talking.” I inhaled slowly, trying to calm the mad beat of my heart. “Mia. I love you.”

A beat passed, and she smiled cheekily. “I figured since you weren't the type to wear your heart on your goddamn sleeve that I’d have to say ‘I love you’ first.”

I laughed at her perfect imitation of my way of speaking. This woman rarely reacted how I expected her to, which was just another reason I was so crazy in love with her.

“That first day I met you when I was sixteen and you hit me with the football was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” She started undoing the buttons on my shirt. "I’m not here with you because you’re a famous ex-private investigator or a wealthy businessman or because of your slamming, hot body...okay, that might be part of it.” She kissed every inch of my skin as she exposed it. “I love everything about you. We fit together in so many ways. I never thought...I’d find someone like you.”

Was she really choked up, telling me how she felt? “Sweetheart, you undo me.”

“So, are we going to christen this pool table or what? I’m dying for you.”

Yep. I was definitely in love with her. But first I had to make an honest woman out of her, which I planned on doing. That night. The ring my mother had given me during her last visit had been burning a hole in my pocket for weeks, but it was finally the night.

“Before I kiss you, before I touch you, let me say this: I love you. Sweet baby Jesus, I love you so damn much.” I kissed her so tenderly and passionately that by the end, she had tears springing to her eyes.

When she broke away, she whispered back to me, “I love you, too.”

“Then marry me, Mia. Not because we’re compatible or because you are hot, sexy and sassy...well, that's a huge part of it, too." I laughed, mimicking her earlier joke. "Marry me for me. Marry me because I’m a selfish bastard and I want you to be mine forever. Marry me because I don’t know if I’ll survive the rest of my life without having you by my side every damn day. Please say yes, angel. Make me the luckiest man in the world.”

“Yes.”

I kissed her again. All the need and hunger which had been dormant inside her for the previous few days ignited like a bushfire. She tugged me toward her, but I gently pulled back.

“Nuh-uh. You've agreed to marry me, so no hanky-panky until you’re wearing my ring and you’re my wife.”

“But—”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Don't argue, Mia, or there will be consequences, remember?"

“Oh, I remember, but maybe you can spank me all the same. I am naked, after all."

“Damn, angel, stop trying to tempt me. You know I'll give in,” I laughed. “I never envisioned proposing to you on a pool table. But first we need to talk. I went to see your dad."

“Oh, crap. What did he say?"

“I talked to him about us. I wanted to set things straight. He wasn't happy."

“Really? You did that for me?”

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” I whispered against the smooth column of her throat.

“And...what was the outcome of your conversation?"

"I asked him if I could have permission to marry you, seeing as I've been in love with you since you were sixteen. I also told him I've got a lot of catching up to do and that you will be moving in with me, here at the pub. That's when he wasn't so happy. But I'm not budging."

Mia squealed with delight and squeezed me tightly.

"I told him I wanted to get married right away. He obviously assumed you were pregnant and lost it." I grimaced, remembering how Max had to hold back his dad from slugging me one in the face.

She stared at me, stunned. "Oh, shit! I'm not! You know, pregnant that is."

"I know, angel. But I love you. You love me. I don’t want to wait."

She continued to stare at me.

“Ah, hell. Are you mad?”

“No. I'm just trying to wrap my head around it all."

A feeling of rightness and inevitability flowed over me like it had that first day when I met her playing football with her brothers. But unlike then, I knew that moment it was real. “What do you say, angel?" I asked her again. I grinned at the woman I would love for the rest of my life.

"I say it’s about damn time, stud.”

Three months later

MIA

I
loved our family Sunday lunches. My parents had a few of their friends over catching up. Jada's parents were there; Janet and Michael Sinclair had been friends with my parents for over thirty-eight years and they tried to make it to a Brunetti Sunday lunch at least once a month.

I spied my mother and Janet taping down tablecloths on the long picnic tables, and I headed over in that direction. “Need help?”

“No, honey, you go and relax with the others. I'm sure Jada could use some company. She needs to rest and remain calm if these eggs are going to take this time around. As soon as Zane's parents arrive, we can start bringing out the food," my mother said innocently.

"You invited Zane's parents? Oh, my God, why?” I was so not ready to meet them.

"Well, you and Zane are engaged, right? It only seemed appropriate to ask them to come." She eyed me, trying to gauge my reaction. "That's okay, isn't it? I didn't think I needed to ask your permission, sweetie."

“Oh, no, it's all good. I'm just nervous that's all; you know, ‘meet the parents’ type of thing."
Shit, I knew Zane's parents were visiting for the weekend but he'd never asked me to meet them.

"Mia, you've got nothing to worry about. They'll love you..."

My mother's smile died when she looked at Janet, who’d gone absolutely still.

“Ma? What’s wrong?”

She took off like a bat out of Hell and ran across the yard.

All conversation everywhere ended abruptly.

A lone figure limped down the driveway, the duffel bag in his hand dropping to the dirt as my mother launched herself at him. He spun her around and she was sobbing so loudly, everyone heard her.

Jada gasped softly from behind me. "Oh, my God. Mic is here."

My father hurried past me and I trembled from the shock, covering my mouth with my hand.

“That’s Mic, as in Miccah?” Winter asked no one in particular.

“Yes, that’s Miccah Brunetti. Pep and Rosa's son who’s been serving in the military, until he got injured,” Milan answered. "He's so sweet, yet so hot. I've always had a soft spot for Mic."

“So, no one knew he was coming?” Winter prodded.

"No, we had no idea. Oh, God, I can't believe he's here," I said finding my voice. But I still didn't move. I remained frozen as I watched Max and Marco hustle by. As soon as they finished their private reunion, I rushed forward to meet my youngest brother, tears streaming down my face.

"Hey, brat, you miss me?"

***

ZANE

“H
ey, angel, I think we need to celebrate in our own special way, seeing as Miccah is back home in the Barossa. What do you say?” I asked her as we were about to head off to bed.

“It all depends on what kind of celebration you had in mind. I am not drinking; my stomach doesn’t feel right after all that food today. And I didn’t even eat that much!”

“Nope, not what I had in mind at all.” I eyed the pool table and her eyes shone. “It seems we have some unfinished business, angel.”

Mia smiled and walked toward the front door of the pub, ensuring it was locked. “The pub is officially closed for the night, right?” She walked toward me and stripped off her clothes layer by layer. By the time she reached me, she was only clad in her bra and G-string. Damn, she had a smoking body and she looked hot as Hell standing there in her red lace bra and thong. I picked her up and made my way over to the pool table.

“Kick your heels off, sweetheart, and spread your legs,” I told her as I balanced her on the edge of the table. “I want to see that sweet pussy of yours. This is my show, remember? Do as I say and there won’t be any penalties.”

“But—”

“Nah...ah...ah. Stick to my rules, angel. No talking. I want you to show me how you make yourself come.”

Her mouth opened to protest and she remembered the no-talking rule. “It’s good to see you’re learning. I want you to move your fingers down to that juicy, pink pussy.”

Mia tentatively stroked herself from her clit down a few times. She seemed worried about something. I kissed the frown away from her forehead. “Angel, it’s just you and me here. There’s no need to be embarrassed. Tease me. Make me wish it was my fingers getting you off. I want you to give me a show that’ll make my dick harder than what it already is.”

With my encouragement, she lost some of her fear and pushed her middle finger into her pussy. She pumped that long digit in and out, getting it good and wet, using the bony section of her thumb to grind into her clit. When her finger was slick enough, she slid it up to her clit and rubbed. Lord, that looked hot. “That’s so sexy. Keep going. Lie down, baby.”

Fuck, watching her touch herself while laying down on the pool table was a complete turn-on. She rubbed directly on that little nub and all I could think of was my cock plunging deep inside her. I rid myself of my clothes in record time so I could stroke myself, but there was no way I’d allow myself to come until she did. Mia bit her bottom lip; I could see she was so close. She tweaked her nipple hard with her free hand while she rubbed short strokes on her clit and that did it. She came with a low moan.

As soon as her orgasm ended, I stood in front of her. I plucked up her right hand to suck the juices from her fingers; she whimpered then shot up to a sitting position again.

“Jesus, that was hot as Hell, sweetheart.” I eased her back down again on the green felt, urging her to lie on her back. “My turn.” I dripped cold lubricant between her breasts.

She gasped.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since the first time I got my hands on these beauties.” I climbed up onto the pool table and straddled her waist, holding the mounds together with my hands as I slid my warm cock in the deep valley of her cleavage. I hissed and began to thrust. “Between how goddamn good this feels and watching you touch yourself, I’m sure not going to last long, angel.”