1.
Ginevra
THE only good thing about Thursdays? Her classes at college ended early enough that when Ginevra returned home, she usually had a couple of hours alone. A feat, considering between her two sisters, Corrado, and Alessio, someone was always there. Or coming and going. Or even better, inviting people over which meant a revolving line of guests.
Usually, Ginevra didn’t mind that. Except when she had a week like this one where she was simply ready for the weekend and didn’t want to people.
It didn’t help that she’d been without both her boys for a couple of weeks because they had business to handle in Vegas with The League. The more time she spent away from one or both of them, the worse her mood became.
Considering how kind Ginevra was any other time, that really said something because she was ready to bite off anyone’s head who stepped in her way. Especially when all she wanted to do at the moment was go straight upstairs, sink into a hot bath, and call Corrado and Les.
“Why the scowl, kitten?”
Ginevra’s head snapped up in the entry hallway of their double-wide brownstone at the voice she hadn’t been expecting to hear. After all, both men were in Vegas and should still be there for at least another week or more.
And yet, there stood Les.
Alessio grinned her way from the end of the entry where he leaned against the doorway leading into the living room. He looked like her wettest dream standing there in a leather jacket—complete with all the buckles and spikes he loved—and black jeans that molded to those muscular thighs of his. The plain white T-shirt he’d thrown on was just tight enough to the bands of muscles that made up the hardness of his chest that she let out a quick exhale.
These men.
This one.
Corrado.
Both of them.
They drove her crazy.
Constantly.
“When did you get home?” she asked.
Alessio shrugged one shoulder. “Today. Wanted to surprise you. I got out of work a little early.”
“Corrado didn’t want you to stay in Vegas?”
“Why, so you can be lonely here?
“Bet he’s lonely there, now.”
“He’s a big boy,” Alessio replied, that grin of his turning sinful in a blink. “And he’ll be home soon.”
“Yeah?”
Les nodded. “Yeah, babe.”
Good.
They were good like this. But everything was better when they were all together.
“So, how much longer are you going to stand all the way down there looking at me when we both know you would much rather be down here with me?” Alessio asked, tipping his head to the side like he was encouraging her to move and fast. “Because it’s been a month since I’ve had my hands on you, and I’m not okay with that.”
Ginevra gulped down a breath. “Oh?”
“Not at all.”
She didn’t need him to tell her again. Those high-heeled boots of hers smacked against the wall when they came off. Her coat hit the floor right along with her purse instead of hanging from her designated hook like they should be—better things were waiting at the end of the hall, anyway.
Alessio’s arms were already open and waiting to hide her away from the rest of the world the second she reached his spot. Leather, smoke, and just a hint of the spicy, crisp cologne Corrado wore soaked into her lungs when she breathed him in. No doubt, before he left Vegas, Alessio had seen Corrado and that was how he lingered behind, too.
For a moment, she could pretend they were both home.
Les’s mouth pressed to the top of her head with a soft kiss while his arms stayed tight like steel bars around her. He didn’t push; he simply waited for her to take what she wanted. Something else the three of them seemed to find worked best for all of them.
Tipping her head back, Ginevra pushed up to her tiptoes and closed the distance remaining between them, so she could have that mouth of his on hers. His tongue tasted like the cherry soda he always grabbed from the store down the street from their brownstone, but with just a hint of whiskey.
A drink he hated. Corrado’s favorite. Yet, it was the only drink he’d have when Corrado wasn’t home. Ginevra didn’t pretend to understand all the nuances of her boys and the side of their relationship that was just the two of them, but then again ... she didn’t have to. Besides, they were teaching her.
One thing at a time.
Alessio’s kiss took her away from the world all over again. She swore even the brownstone drifted away while their kiss became a war. What had been a simple hello quickly turned into hot torture with every slide of his tongue along with hers like he was teasing and promising all at the same time.
“You’re just ... wicked,” she breathed when he pulled away just enough to dot kisses along the line of her jaw. Of course, that path of his continued down the side of her throat to where the neckline of her dress dipped low to show off a bit of cleavage. “And you know it. Don’t even say hello properly—just move right on to this.”
“This is how I say hello, kitten.”
That time, his kitten came out husky.
And hot.
Yep.
“What do I have to do to get you bent over the back of the couch, huh?” Alessio asked.
Ginevra could have played coy.
She didn’t really want to.
“Say the words,” she replied.
Alessio’s gaze lifted to meet hers, and a dark gleam zoned in on her. That look in his eyes was enough to have her thighs clenching. “Five seconds to get there with your dress hiked up and your panties down to your ankles, then, or I’ll do it for you myself.”
Ginevra flashed her teeth with her smile, challenging him since she knew this would end very well for her. “I’ll see what I can do.”
That hand of his cracked against the curve of her ass when she passed him by to head into the living room. Alessio did exactly as he promised, too, by bending her over the couch in less than five seconds after she entered the living room. Of course, he took the chance to kiss her on the way over before shoving her roughly over the back of the plush leather.
Then, when he realized the skirt of her dress was a tight, non-stretchy fabric that he couldn’t get shoved up around her waist, he simply ripped it right down the back at the zipper to where it stopped at the curve of her lower back. Only then did he let her step out of it.
Nothing else, though.
Not even the black cotton panties with the lace trim that matched the bralette he shoved his hands up under while demanding, “Pull those panties aside and get me inside you.”
How in the midst of undressing her that he managed to partially undress himself, Ginevra didn’t know. It spoke to the distraction Alessio could be—the force he truly was when he leveled one hundred percent of himself on someone else.
Every charming, broken, sexy piece that made him ... well, him.
The first night she met Alessio, she had called him overwhelming to Corrado. That hadn’t been a lie, and honestly, not one goddamn thing had changed in that regard. Not that Ginevra wanted him to change. Like this, she thought he was always at his best.
Which was why she did exactly what he demanded of her, without question and all too happily, because of how she knew it would end. With her pleased, blissed, and over every stressful thing that had happened throughout the week.