LOVE on The Horizon (Breaking The Rules #1) (21 page)

We were clumsy and awkward and frantically rushing through the whole thing.

We covered each other’s mouths with a firm hand at the moment our orgasms began to rip through us.

But, all in all, it was still perfection, because it was sex with Rebecca.

The smell of freshly baked pies drifted through the vents and permeated the stale air of the basement.

“Smells yummy,” he said against the skin of my neck. “Good morning, my love.”

“Mmm, good morning.” His lips moved over to nibble on my ear. “Did you sleep okay? This mattress isn’t the most comfortable.”

“
Bella
, with you beside me, I could sleep on a bed of nails.” He kissed me long and hard. “Speaking of nails, we need to call Ricky today.”

I giggled at his segue. “I know. I’ll volunteer us to pick up anything she needs at the store to get us out of here for a few hours. Otherwise, we’ll be put to work.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I do.” I leaned up to plant my own kiss on his firm lips. “There’s something I need to tell you. Please don’t be mad.” His facial expression dropped. “I can’t cook. Like, nothing at all. Do you want the ring back now?”

He smacked my ass, causing me to squeal. “Shh, she’ll hear you. You gave me a heart attack.”

I giggled again before kissing his chest. “You should have seen your face. But it’s true. I can’t.”

“I’ll just have to cash in on all your other talents. You do give the best blow jobs.”

“Really, like the best you ever had?” I asked casually. “Would you like a blow job now?”

“
Bella
.” His voice sounded pained, and when he reached under the sheets, I realized why. “Your mother is literally standing directly above our heads.” We both looked up to the exposed beams running along the ceiling, hearing her humming through the floorboards. “I see many cold showers while we’re here.”

“Okay.” I pouted. “I’ll just have to wait until we get into the car.”

“Any chance I could get a double espresso to enjoy during it?” he teased before kissing the tip of my nose.

“There’s a Starbucks a few miles away.”

“That works.”

Marco and I took turns using the minuscule bathroom my brother Griffin insisted my parents install. We then quickly got dressed, avoiding all physical contact on his demand.

“Tucked in or out?” he asked, opening his shirt wide. “Do I look like I’m fighting a raging hard-on? I’m trying to think of anything other than you. I’ve said the alphabet in Italian twice, I even thought of my
Nonna
Graziella, but nothing is working.” My mouth went dry at the sight of him. He was absolutely stunning. “What’s wrong?” he asked when I failed to reply. He looked down at his light blue button-down and jeans, adjusting his crotch while grimacing. “Shit, you can see it, can’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but who cares? I’ll stand in front of you. You look so hot right now.”

“Yeah? How hot?” he asked while buttoning the front of his shirt. I eye fucked him from head to toe, causing my own predicament to begin in my panties. When the fabric slowly concealed his sculpted chest with each button he fastened, I pouted petulantly. His shirt stretched tight over his muscular torso, and his jeans stretched even tighter over his crotch as it kept growing the more I looked at it.

“Stop looking at it.”

“I can’t help it. We need to get out of here!” I snatched his hand and sprinted our way upstairs. My mother was busy rolling out piecrust. From the evidence, she’d been up for hours. Thankfully for Marco’s sake, Dad had already left for work.

“Good morning,” she said, much more chipper than should have been expected. Marco stood flush behind me, and I teasingly pushed my ass into his groin. He groaned but quickly turned it into a, “Um…uh…good morning.”

“Hello, Marco.” She glanced up and did a double take at the sight of the Italian god hiding behind me. Her hands stilled before she quickly looked back down at her dough. But not before I saw her eyes widen as she bit her lip.

“Mom, you okay?”

She looked up surprised and blushed, her hand automatically moving to pat her hair in place. “Of course, dear. Why wouldn’t I be? It’s hot in here, right?” Quickly, she moved to the window above the sink and yanked it wide open.

“You’ve been busy.” Marco waved to all the pies cooling on racks behind her.

“I absolutely love this holiday,” she said, comically avoiding eye contact with him. As she aggressively resumed punching the dough, I turned my head to see Marco looking at her questioningly. He met my eyes with a raised brow. I shrugged, pretending ignorance, but I knew exactly what was going on. Mom thought Marco was handsome, thus, Mom became flustered.

“How many people are you actually expecting?” I asked, taking in the amount of food that cluttered the countertops and most of the table.

“It’ll just be Sam, Ginny, Cooper, and us. Janis and Dean are celebrating with Dean’s family since it’s their turn to have them. Oh, and did I tell you Griffin, Lily, and the kids are in California on business?” She looked up at Marco and clarified. “Griffin is our oldest, he’s thirty-one. His wife is Lily, lovely girl. Then comes Janis at twenty-eight, and she’s married to Dean. Cooper is twenty-six, single. Sam is twenty-three and engaged to Ginny. And then we have our ‘oops’ baby here at twenty-two.” Without missing a beat, she opened the fridge to grab some eggs and dove right back in a mile a minute. “Marco, did Rebecca tell you we have two grandbabies with a third on the way? Griffin’s kids are the absolute joy of my life. Henry and Kristen, so adorable. Once Janis gives birth, life is about to get even crazier around here.” She stopped suddenly, looking around as if she’d lost something.

“Do you need help?” he asked, earning a kick in the shin.

I ignored the poke to my ribs as my mom said, “If you would be a sweetheart and drag the folding table and chairs out of the garage, that’d be great. Dad forgot to do that last night. I guess we can’t blame him, with all the action going on.” She stopped to giggle maniacally. “He was pretty tipsy when he came to bed.”

Oh, boy.

“Do you kids want breakfast? I can whip up some cinnamon rolls. I hope I covered everyone’s favorite.” She randomly changed the subject. “Chocolate, pumpkin, apple, and this one will be blueberry…” She counted the four flavors off on her fingers before asking, “Marco, do you have a favorite pie other than those? I can make a cherry one if you prefer?”

“Um, no, Mrs. Stanton, they all sound delicious.”

“Please call me Ellen.” She looked up from her piecrust and smiled…and smiled…and smiled…and blushed.

What the hell?
I looked around for evidence that she was still drunk.

“Um…Mom? We’re going to run to Starbucks and then Marco needs some things from the drugstore. He’ll get your table and chairs later.”

“I have coffee here.” She pointed to her trusty coffee maker that held a full carafe waiting for us. “And he can help himself to Dad’s toiletries.”

“Marco drinks espresso.” I glanced sideways at Marco, debating on my next smartass response. Deciding to stay true to form whenever I wanted to shut my mom up, I added, “Besides, I’m sure Dad doesn’t have condoms.”

When I turned to take his hand, he stood frozen while gawking at me with bug eyes.

“Oh. Okay, dear. While you’re out, would you mind picking up more potatoes? I don’t think I have enough.”

“Sure, Mom.” Before she could add more things to the list, or before my comment actually registered in her brain, I dragged him to the foyer. His expression never wavered as I retrieved our jackets and beelined for the privacy of his sexy Mustang.

“Have you lost your mind?” he asked as I pushed him toward the car.

“Yes!” Before he had a chance to even turn the heater on, I barked, “Go to the end of the street and make a right.”

“Where are we going?”

“First Starbucks, and then the old theater. Their back lot is very secluded, perfect for car sex.”

“I don’t even want to know why you know that,” he said, shaking his head with a scowl.

“Oh, shush. You’re about to get lucky.”

Shortly after our Starbucks run, he pulled the Mustang behind a large Dumpster. “This is going to be tricky. Move your seat as far back as it can go and open your jeans up.”

“Seriously,
bella
, you’re scaring me.” My car-sex expertise couldn’t have been freaking him out too much, because he followed my instructions and waited eagerly for my next command.

After a quick perusal of the area, I kicked off my Chucks, pushed my jeans off my legs, straddled his lap, and with eager fingers, guided his length inside me.

“Oh, crap,” I said once he was balls deep.

“Yeah. Oh, crap.” He crushed his lips to mine, muffling my moans as we fell into a coordinated rhythm.

His fingers pressed into my ass each time I lifted or lowered myself on his very thick, very hard erection. In the tight fit between his body and the steering wheel, there wasn’t a sliver of space between us.

“Shit, I’m coming,” I announced not long after he started circling my clit with his thumb. My clenching caused him to swallow audibly before closing his eyes. Pulling a move he loved, I crashed down over him and stilled, working my muscles to milk him into an explosive release.

He had an entire conversation with himself in Italian as I smiled, watching it all take place. Once he was done, he opened his eyes and grinned upon seeing my face.

“I like New Jersey.”

“Liar.”

He helped me back onto my side of the car, passed me a wad of Starbucks napkins to clean myself up with, and we were back on the road in record time.

“Okay, potatoes next, then the cemetery.”

“Cemetery?”

“Yeah. I know the perfect place to give you the blow job I promised.”

“You are most definitely trying to kill me.”

Once we got my mom’s potatoes and I directed him to the perfect spot, I went right to work. Just as I worked him back up to where he was hard enough to raise a flag, he shouted, “Wait,
bella
, stop.
Bella!
” along with a dozen or so Italian curses.

Realizing his curses weren’t from being in the throes of passion, I pulled my head up in time to see the grounds keeper’s pickup truck approaching.

“Oh, shit. Drive, hurry!”

With his pants unzipped and his cock standing straight up in the air, he peeled out of the cemetery like ghosts were chasing us.

“Sorry.” I shrugged as he kept adjusting himself. I reached over and gripped him firmly. “I’ll just have to finish as you drive. Follow the speed limit, and don’t run any stop signs.”

“You are trying to kill me, no?”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

I took him into my mouth as far as I could, increasing my efforts and speeding up my pace. He kept one hand on the steering wheel, the other buried in my hair at the back of my head.

“
Fanculo
!” he cried when I swallowed around him. The sensation I caused must have pushed him over, because his release immediately followed. I felt the car slowing, causing me to lift my head.

“Honey, you need to drive.” I almost felt bad for him. He looked high and like he was strung out on drugs. “Do you want me to take over?”

Without a pause, he pulled to the curb and said, “Yes, please.”

We ended up back at Starbucks because I needed another double espresso. While there, we sat in a corner and called Ricky. Rebecca leaned closer, putting her head on my shoulder so she could hear him too.

“How are you guys? Marco, are you thriving okay in American suburbia?”

I grinned before saying, “Oh, yeah. I am most definitely thriving.”

“TMI,” was Ricky’s immediate response, causing Rebecca to giggle.

“You asked. So, what’s up?”

“We need to address Rebecca’s loan. Her debt needs to be listed on the loan paperwork.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s not a big deal, sweetie. As co-owner, we need to disclose all that. I’m bringing it up because it could slow down the loan. You’ll need to bring all pertinent documents down to Florida with you.”

“Ricky, I’ll handle it before we leave here.”

“No, Marco. I can’t have you do that.” She visibly tensed beside me, and I hated the look in her eyes.

“You don’t have a choice.” I placed a gentle hand on her face. I suspected this might be an argument, but one she wouldn’t be winning. “
Bella
, we’re getting married. Your loan is my loan. My money is your money, no arguments.”

“He’s right, sweetie. He spends more than that loan in espresso alone. Don’t cause drama when it’s not needed. Okay, moving on…” Ricky took us through the list of investors he’d secured so far, and I was impressed with his tenacity.

We were doing this. We were on our way to our dream coming true. In fact, this was more than I ever could have imagined because, along with making Rebecca mine, I combined two dreams into one.

The thought of meeting someone, falling in love, and wanting to spend forever with her was an elusive vision. I never thought much about it, and I figured at some point in my life it would probably happen eventually. Not only did it happen, it changed me as a person—for the better, of course.

“When are you guys coming home?”

Rebecca and I exchanged a glance before she said, “Probably this weekend. We’ll spend Thanksgiving with my family and then head down. Ricky, are you alone for Thanksgiving? I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to ask you to join us.”

“No worries, doll. Mom and her boyfriend are flying down today, although I’d pay money to see Mr. Puglia surrounded by your overprotective brothers.”

“How overprotective?”

“You haven’t told him your stories, Rebecca?” Ricky released a cackle over the phone. “Oh, boy.”

“Ricky.” Rebecca bit her lip, trying to hide her mirth. “Don’t listen to him, honey.”

“Bahahaha,” Ricky continued. “Marco, just wear your running shoes to Thanksgiving dinner. Love you both! Call me when you book your flights.”

The line went dead, and I gawked at Rebecca. “What is he talking about?” She leaned closer and kissed my lips repeatedly. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“Is it working?”

“Yes.” I kissed her hard and added, “First, back to the loan. I’m paying it, Rebecca.”

“Marco…”

“No arguments. Okay?”

“And if I argue?”

“It’ll be a waste of energy and breath.” I kissed her again before pulling back with a stern look in my eye. “Now, tell me why I need to wear running shoes to dinner.”

With a heavy sigh, she leaned back in her chair with her coffee. From the look on her face, she was truly contemplating what she should share. “Okay, this is one of the tamer stories, but you’ll get the gist of how protective my brothers are.”

“I can handle protective. What did they do?”

“Well, when I turned sixteen I dated one of my brother Sam’s teammates. They really didn’t get along, and I only dated the guy to piss Sam off. Sam was so controlling, worse than my dad, and I was sick of it. Anyway, Sam got wind of it, and one night when Skip…”

“Hold on, Skip?”

“It was a nickname, you’ll soon learn why. Anyway, when Skip dropped me off after a date, he was walking me to the door. We were on the front porch, making out. Suddenly, two men in a ski masks emerged from the bushes behind us. They never spoke and just stood, watching us. Skip took one look at them and ran for his car, leaving me alone on the porch.”

“What a fucking prick. You could have been hurt.”

“The two men were my brothers, Sam and Cooper. Sam and Coop were always picking on me. Usually, Sam was the mastermind behind their annoying pranks. He had a teammate record the whole thing. The next day in school, they showed every guy on the team that tape. After that, Skip started spreading all kinds of rumors about me in school as revenge. Sam shut him up by spiking Skip’s water with a laxative. It gave the guy the runs for days. That’s when Gary earned the nickname Skip.”

I worked a swallow, and Rebecca laughed. “Relax, I doubt he’d pull anything. He’s matured since then.”

Her response wasn’t all that convincing.

“Want to see where I went to high school?” she asked, waggling her brows.

“No. No way, we’ll get caught.”

“Oh, don’t be such a chicken. School is out for the holiday. It’ll be deserted. We’ll just drop the potatoes off before my mother sends a search party looking for us. She knows every cop in town and has no problem calling them whenever she needs to find us.”

How my fiancée survived this family was beyond me.

Our plan was to run in and run back out, but Rebecca’s mother put us to work the minute we walked through the door. She asked what we did while we were gone and what took us so long.

“I took Marco on a tour. First we grabbed coffee, then I showed him the old Regal Theater.”

Her mother looked up from peeling potatoes. “Why would you go there? It’s just a run-down old theater.”

“They don’t build them like that anymore. I love that place. It has the best shrubbery,” Rebecca said, throwing me a wink. Mrs. Stanton gawked at her daughter, which Rebecca promptly ignored. “And then I took him to the cemetery.”

“The cemetery has beautiful shrubbery, but the theater?” She shook her head and added, “Isn’t it lovely, Marco? So picturesque.”

“Yes, it is,” I responded, pretending to be concentrating on the celery she had me cutting up. What flooded my mind were visions of Rebecca sucking me off, and definitely not shrubs of any kind. The grin on my fiancée’s face said she knew exactly what I was thinking.

“Once we’re done here, Mom, I want to show Marco my high school.”

“Okay, dear. Just be sure to be home in time for dinner.”

“I was going to take him to Pepe’s.”

“Oh, no. Your dad is grilling Italian sausage tonight for Marco.”

Stopping midchop, my eyes bulged at the irony of her statement. Rebecca took one look at me and burst into laughter.

I would never admit it to Rebecca, but I seriously couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. Her mother was very pleasant and tried her best to make me feel comfortable. Her father downright hated me. The sausage he grilled became victim to his ire. With his angry glares and snide comments, he made no secret as to exactly how much he disliked me while placing my shriveled, charred wiener on my plate.

I wasn’t sure exactly what his issue was. I guess because I proposed to his daughter? Or maybe, he was so pissed off that his baby girl took off and found a life that he was using me to work out his frustrations on?

Once dinner was over, he sat in his chair watching TV and only spoke when spoken to. Her mom tried to lessen the tension with small talk and telling stories of Rebecca’s childhood. Every now and then she’d ask, “Remember that, Kevin?” And a nod in return was all she got.

Rebecca kept apologizing for his behavior, repeatedly making excuses why he was acting that way.

“
He’s usually so happy-go-lucky
,” she whispered that night as we lay in bed together. Her admission only made me feel worse. It was most definitely my presence that made him such a delight to be around.

Besides the tension I felt being there, having absolutely no privacy made it very difficult to relax. I was edgy and irritable and most definitely not looking forward to spending the whole day with her father and brothers.

As Rebecca chatted on the phone with her sister, I snuck outside to get some much-needed air.

The backyard was a serene space, and in spite of the frigid temperatures, it made for a nice escape from the tension that polluted the inside of her house. The sun was setting behind the tree line, making for a spectacularly calming atmosphere. Whereas, in her living room, the wood-burning smell of the fire suffocated me, out here it had the reverse effect, comforting in a way.

“Here you are,” she said, opening the back door to find me sitting in a patio chair, staring out into space. I immediately turned toward her voice. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, staring at the horizon that mesmerized me.

“Stunning,” I whispered as I watched her peaceful face admiring the sunset. Impulsively, I stood and pulled her into my arms, covering her body with mine. “You shouldn’t be out here without a coat on. It’s freezing.”

She looked up into my eyes, the intensity of her stare causing my heart to flip in my chest with so much love. “Are you okay?”

“Absolutely,” I lied, tightening my grip around her.    

“You’re lying.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head over me, I’m fine.”

She raised a brow, challenging my response. “Talk to me.”

I released a heavy sigh into the air, wishing all the negativity from our families away with it, wishing I could throw her over my shoulder and escape reality for the rest of our lives. “I guess I now understand what you were feeling in Florence. I worry their feelings toward me will alter your relationships with them.”

She contemplated my words, staring directly into my eyes. Her pupils dilated, making her deep blue eyes even darker in color.

“Please don’t let him get to you. Dad is just desperate to have me home again. The more he realizes it’s not going to happen, the more desperate he becomes. I’m sorry he’s taking it out on you, but he’ll get over it. Once he understands my decision, he’ll come around.”

When I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, she closed her eyes and leaned into the touch of my lips. “I can’t wait to start our lives together. Just you and me, making each other happy.”

“Me too. It’s sooner than you think.”

Not soon enough,
I thought to myself.

She lifted a hand and soothingly ran it over my face. “My brother Sam just got here. Ready to come inside?”

“Of course.”

Back in the house, the smell of roasted turkey wafted around us. Rebecca squeezed my hand as she led me toward the hushed whispers that were coming from the living room.

We stepped into the room, and the conversation immediately halted. A tall man who looked very much like my girl stood holding a beer as his eyes raked over my frame from head to toe. My gaze fixated on his blue eyes, which were the exact same color as Rebecca’s. His brown hair was lighter than hers and cut short and neat. He was as tall as me, although thinner. Beside him was a petite redhead who smiled widely when she noticed Sam looking our way.

“Becks, how are you?”

“I’m great, Ginny. This is Marco, my fiancé.”

Ginny lifted her hand in a tiny wave before saying, “Hi.”

“Marco, that’s Sam.” He raised his chin in acknowledgment, not bothering to offer a handshake or even a hello.

“Nice to meet you both.” Taking the high road, I stepped forward and offered him a handshake. He hesitated before accepting it in his firm grip. “I wish I could say Rebecca told us all about you, but that’d be a lie,” he said as I shook Ginny’s hand next.

“Don’t start, Sam,” Rebecca said before asking me if I wanted something to drink.

“Whatever you’re having is fine.” Following her out of the room would have been too obvious, so instead, I sat in one of the high-back chairs in the corner.

“Cooper should be here any minute,” Mrs. Stanton said, carrying in a tray laden with cheeses, fruit, and crackers. She placed it on the coffee table before sitting beside her scowling husband on the couch. Motioning to Sam and Ginny, she said, “You two look like you’re about to run out the door. Sit.”