His Brother's Wife Read online

  Ama felt like she was in a dream. In the elevator, Enda took her in his arms and kissed her. ‘Hello again,” he said softly, and she smiled up at him.

  The ‘apartment’ was, in fact, the penthouse of the building, and Ama stood open-mouthed at the door, suddenly feeling intimidated. Enda laughed. “You live in a mansion and an apartment is what scares you?”

  Ama relaxed, chuckling. “Sorry. It’s beautiful.”

  Enda came to her. “You’re beautiful. This is just bricks and mortar. Come with me.”

  He led her into the bedroom, beautifully decorated in gray and navy. Enda’s fingers were at the belt of her wrap dress. “I’m sorry, Bella, I can’t wait any longer …”

  Ama gave a soft moan as he pulled open her dress and dropped to his knees, his mouth on her belly, his tongue tracing a circle around her navel. She tangled her fingers in his hair as he pulled down the lacy cup of her bra and took her nipple into his mouth, teasing the small bud until it grew hard and sensitive. She closed her eyes as he did the same to the other nipple, and then he was sliding her panties down and burying his face in her sex.

  Holy hell …the feeling of his tongue sliding along her sex, lashing around her clitoris, then plunging deep into her red and swollen cunt was intoxicating. Her limbs felt they were liquefying.

  Enda pushed her gently onto the bed and spread her legs wide, eager to taste her further. He began to slide two fingers in and out of her. Ama was gasping, her entire body aflame, and she came shuddering and moaning.

  “I want to taste you,” she whispered, and Enda grinned. He stripped down quickly as Ama shed the rest of her clothes, sitting up, then taking him in her mouth. She had no idea if she was doing it right, but she went with her instincts, tracing the shaft up and down with her tongue and teasing the tip. She heard Enda moan appreciatively as she began to move his cock in and out of her mouth, sucking gently and massaging his sac with her hand. With the other hand, she dug her fingernails into his buttock and heard his hissed “Yes!” His obvious enjoyment made her heart soar, and when he drew away and pushed her back onto the bed, his cock was almost straining, engorged, and rock-hard.

  Enda crushed his mouth against hers as he hitched her legs around his waist. “Are you ready for me, baby?”

  Ama gave a frustrated moan, and he laughed before launching his cock into her and ramming his hips against hers. Ama gave a cry of intense release and clung to him as he fucked her, her fingernails digging into the toned muscles of his back. “God, Enda …yes …harder …harder …”

  He obliged, laughing, and kissed her passionately. She was utterly lost in this man’s arms, completely at the mercy of his body and his desire for her …Jesus, his cock was incredible, and she was amazed she was able to take him in so deeply. She clung to him, wanting to savor every moment of his skin against hers, his mouth hungrily kissing hers, and the clean scent of him.

  She came again, hard, and Enda reached his climax, pumping cum deep inside her. She didn’t want him to pull away at first, and so, for a few minutes, he stayed inside her, kissing her tenderly. “Bella Ama,” he whispered in that deep, sensual voice, and Ama sighed happily.

  Finally, he lay at her side, propped up on his elbow, gazing down at her. His hand traced a path down her body, his long, warm fingers splaying over her belly. “Ama? May I ask you something?”

  Ama smiled up at him. “Anything.”

  “Before your wedding …had you ever made love?”

  She gave a half-embarrassed chuckle. “Is it that obvious? No, I hadn’t, Enda. I was a virgin.”

  “It surprises me …and to answer your question—no, it’s not obvious. At all. Just a hunch on my part. You are an incredible lover, my darling.”

  My darling. The words thrilled her. She stroked his face. “About the wedding …Enda, you saved that day for me. I was so miserable, but when I saw you in the church …god, I have never felt like that before.”

  Enda smiled. “Me either, although my reputation would probably contradict that.”

  Ama grinned. “Luckily, I knew very little about you. I know very little about you. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.” She sighed. “If I had met you before …well, it wasn’t even as if I had a choice in marrying Jackson.”

  Enda nuzzled his nose to hers. “I know. Olivier told me the reason. I think you are a selfless person.”

  “Sometimes I can’t believe this is modern times,” she muttered, half to herself.

  Enda studied her. “Ama …why were you a virgin? Can I ask, or is that too personal?”

  She smiled at him. “Like I said, you can ask me anything. The reason is …I know it’s modern thinking to just enjoy yourself and sleep with anyone and that’s an absolutely fine way to live. It just wasn’t for me. Before now, I was completely focused on my work.”

  “I would love to hear you play sometime.”

  She kissed him. “And so you shall. We have a recital coming up at the end of the month, at the conservatory.”

  “I’ll be there.” He moved his body on top of her. “When do you have to be back at work this afternoon?”

  Ama grinned, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Not for an hour or two.”

  “Hmm,” he grinned and plunged his cock into her. “What shall we do for an hour or two?”

  Ama moaned as he thrust harder and harder until she was screaming his name.

  Lena eyed her. “Why are you glowing?”

  Ama, knowing that the multiple orgasms that Enda had given her were the reason, shrugged. “Just having a good day.”

  She went into her office and slid the burner phone from her purse into her desk. In the small bathroom attached to her office, she looked in the mirror and saw her eyes shining. Her skin indeed was glowing. You look like a woman who’s been thoroughly and expertly fucked.

  Enda Gallo. My lover. She kept saying it to herself over and over as she worked, and when she went to teach her class that afternoon, her good mood infected her students and she had a blast with them.

  Driving home, though, the usual dread set in. She could barely stand to be in the same room as Jackson, and it was with relief that she saw Olivier’s car in the driveway.

  She was smiling when she went in, still lost in her memories of the afternoon, and distracted. She didn’t see Jackson approach her until he crushed his lips against hers. Horrified, she pushed him away. “Take your hands off me.”

  Jackson was unrepentant, grasping her upper arm.

  “Come. We have a visitor.”

  Olivier stood and hugged her. She deliberately made a fuss of him to annoy Jackson and was rewarded with a glare from her husband.

  “This is a nice surprise …you’ll stay for dinner, yes? Where’s Mac?”

  “Upstairs, not feeling well.” Jackson’s tone was dismissive.

  Olivier smiled at her. “Love to stay. How are you?”

  “In the four days since I saw you last?” She grinned at him. She had the feeling that his presence was for her benefit; Olivier had an air of the protective older brother about him.

  Over dinner, a sumptuous duck dish prepared by Mac’s chef, Ama and Olivier chatted easily, mostly ignoring the glowering presence of Jackson. He finally had enough of not being the center of attention.

  “I hear your father’s business is in trouble again,” he said suddenly. Ama looked at him, her expression smooth.

  “Not that I know of, but then I haven’t spoken to my father in a while.”

  Jackson smirked. “The cash injection I gave him soon got spent. Seems your bride price wasn’t enough. That’s what you get for having a cheapskate dad, I suppose.”

  “Jackson,” Olivier’s tone was harsh. “That’s enough.”

  Ama was staring at Jackson with undisguised disgust. “And, yet, my ‘bride price’ wasn’t enough to allow you everything you wanted, was it?”

  Jackson’s smile faded, and Ama realized he’d probably been boasting about his conquest of her to his brothers. For
a moment, she regretted saying anything. Olivier looked uncomfortable.

  Ama took a slug of wine and tried to ease the atmosphere. “Listen, we are having a recital at the conservatory at the end of the month. Would you like to come, Olly? Bring a date?”

  Olivier nodded. “I would love to …are you playing?”

  She nodded. “Although, I’m very rusty. I need to practice more than I have been. It’s hard to find the time with work being so hectic.”

  “We should get you a piano here,” Jackson said suddenly. “Then you could practice here, and maybe I could see more of you.”

  Ama didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he being friendly or setting a trap for her?

  “That might be a solution,” she said carefully. Jackson gave a nod.

  “Consider it done.”

  Ama exchanged a glance with Olivier. She hated that every conversation she had with her husband was loaded, making her feel tense and jumpy. She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

  “You okay?” Olivier, of course, was the one asking, and she smiled at him.

  “Just tired.” From fucking your glorious half-brother, she wanted to scream at Jackson, but then she felt remorse. Maybe her own attitude wasn’t helping the marriage. She wasn’t going to go soft on him …but she could make an effort to be friendlier. Was she so scared of leading him on?

  Yes.

  The thought of Jackson making love to her made her want to vomit. He had bought her, for chrissakes. That wasn’t love. That was possession. Ama felt sick and pushed her chair back.

  “Forgive me, Olivier …Jackson. I really am tired. I think I’d better go lie down. Will you excuse me?”

  “Of course.” Olivier stood as she got up and kissed her cheek. “Get some rest, honey.”

  She smiled at him gratefully and thought, if I weren’t already falling for Enda, it would be so easy to love you, you sweetheart of a man. She glanced at Jackson.

  “Goodnight, darling,” he said in an even tone. She nodded.

  “Goodnight, Jackson.”

  The next evening, when she returned from work, a Bösendorfer Imperial Concert Grand piano was waiting for her in the drawing room. Ama couldn’t believe it. She sat down on the stool and ran her fingers lightly over the keys.

  “I hope you like it.”

  She turned to see Jackson in the doorway, watching her. She cleared her throat. “It’s too much.”

  “No.”

  He walked over and pulled up a chair next to her. “Ama …we have gotten off on the wrong foot. I know you don’t love me, and I’m not saying that I’m in love with you. But I want the chance to be. At least the chance to see if we can make this work. I’m not under any illusion that you won’t file for divorce the moment the contract is up. But maybe we could enjoy these two years.”

  Ama considered his words. “Jackson …I don’t want to live in a house of misery, where I’m afraid to sleep with my door unlocked. Let’s get one thing straight. I will never, ever sleep with you. Ever. But if we can put that aside and tolerate that …we could try to be friends. Companions. If you need sex, feel free to look around. There are plenty of open marriages.”

  Careful now, she told herself, don’t give him any reason to suspect you. Just because your brain is still frazzled from having Enda Gallo’s cock buried deep in you this afternoon …careful.

  Jackson’s expression was carefully composed. “Fine.” He got up and walked away from her, and she sighed. The house was too quiet tonight. She went to her room and locked the door behind her. Had she done the right thing? Or had she aroused his suspicions, which would make sneaking off to the apartment much harder?

  Ama reached into her purse and pulled out the burner phone. She had been about to put it on her desk at work before she left, but something told her to take it home. She wanted to know that she could talk to Enda whenever she wanted. That she could hear his voice. This afternoon she had spent another blissful hour in his arms, but they didn’t have time to actually talk or to find out about each other in the stolen moments they spent. Not that she was complaining …her lover had ravished her body, leaving her shivering with pleasure.

  She smiled at the memory and went to draw a bath.

  Enda Gallo went back to his hotel. He knew he could stay at the apartment he had rented, but every time he went there increased the chances he would be recognized and that his cover would be blown.

  And, besides, without Ama in his arms, the place seemed lonely, echoing with the memory of her. At least at the hotel he could distract himself and get some work done. Back in Italy, his property business had taken him years to build, but now he was about to form a partnership with his friend, Raffaelo Winter, to open a chain of boutique hotels around the world.

  He called Raffaelo at home in Naples now. It was eight a.m. in Italy, and Raffaelo picked up straight away.

  “Ciao, Raff.”

  “Hey, ciao, my friend.” Raffaelo sounded relaxed, and Enda guessed that he must be at home with Inca, his gorgeous wife of almost ten years. Enda had met Inca soon after she and Raff had become engaged and had been devastated when she had been stabbed by a jealous stalker. Enda had tried to be there for Raff as much as he could during her recovery and the time they had spent together had only strengthened their bond. People remarked on their physical similarities, but Enda had laughed off the suggestion they could be related. His mother, his dear mother, had passed away only recently, and it was due to Raff and Inca—and Raff’s twin brother, Tommaso—that he hadn’t felt entirely alone in Italy.

  He chatted easily with his friend now before Raffaelo told him his news. “We’re coming to the States soon. Inca wants to visit her friend, Olly, in Seattle, so we thought we’d do that and then come down to SF. Sound good?”

  Enda was overjoyed. “God, man, yes. How soon can you come?”

  Raff laughed. “That bad, eh? Well, we’re flying to Seattle this Friday, staying for a week, and then down to you. So, ten days? We don’t have any restriction on time, so we can stay as long as we’re welcome. Bo is performing at Pride, then doing a couple of nights at the Fillmore, so Tommaso and their vast brood will be there too.”

  Enda grinned. Tommaso had fallen in love with singing superstar Bo Kennedy at Raffaelo and Inca’s wedding—or just after—and between them, they now had seven kids: five of their own, Matteo, Tommaso’s son, and Tiger, Bo’s teenage boy, both from previous relationships. They divided their time between Italy and the United Kingdom and so they were rarely in the US.

  Suddenly Enda wanted to tell Raffaelo about Ama—about how much he cared for her and thought about her all of the time. He so desperately wanted to introduce her to his friends. Maybe there was a way …

  “Hey listen, before you go, I wanted to float an idea to you. I know we said on the next project we would concentrate on hotels, but how about we look into building music schools for the less privileged? Jackson’s new wife,” he almost choked on those words, “Amalia, is a classical pianist and tutor, and she got me thinking maybe there’s a new outlet.” He knew he was rambling now. “Anyway, just something to think about.”

  “Of course. I like the idea of that. Let’s talk when I’m in town. Maybe we should meet Amalia.”

  Enda punched the air silently, grinning. “Definitely.”

  When he had ended the call, Enda went to shower, then got into bed. What he would give to take Ama to meet his friends as his partner. Two years, he said to himself. Two years and she’ll be free, and then I’m going to marry that girl.

  The thought brought him up short. Marriage? Wow. Marriage had never been something he had aspired to or wanted, but with her …with Ama … well, damn.

  His phone bleeped, and it was with delighted pleasure that he recognized the number as Ama’s burner phone.

  Missing you. Thinking only of you.

  Enda smiled and tapped out a reply.

  I wish you were with me right now, Bella.

  Me too, gorgeous.
Sleep well.

  Enda brought up the subject of the music schools at dinner with his family, careful not to give away that he and Ama had already discussed it earlier that day, when they had spent a blissful afternoon in his apartment, screwing each other senseless and talking. They were learning so much about each other in those precious hours. Enda discovered that, despite her great beauty, Ama hated to be judged on that, and preferred to be complimented on her brain or her humor. That underneath her almost regal presence, she was, at heart, a book nerd, an art lover, and someone who declared she would be unable to live without music. Not just classical, either, but rock, and cheesy pop songs—and Johnny Cash.

  Enda found himself opening up to her about his family—or lack of it—until Olivier came to find him. “I never knew they existed,” he admitted, and then grinned at her. “And in the end, I got the best and the worst of brothers. I love Olivier. He gave me a way to know my father, and he’s been nothing but supportive. I even suspect if he had known about us, that he would have been our biggest cheerleader.”

  Ama smiled at him. “I was thinking the same thing, actually. Still, I don’t think it’s a good idea to clue him in. I would hate to put him in an awkward position.”

  “Agreed.”

  So, now, as they all sat around Macaulay Gallo’s vast dinner table, Enda made sure he didn’t make eye-contact with Ama when he told them his and Raff’s ideas.

  Jackson made a scoffing noise. “Really? Where’s the profit in that?”

  Enda looked at him coolly. “I would think, in your position, that you would see that money isn’t everything. How many more billions do you need, Jackson? Isn’t it time you gave something back?”

  “Didn’t I just broker the deal that saved Amalia’s sister from an abusive marriage?” Jackson grinned at his wife, who stared back in dislike.

  “I don’t think that’s what Enda meant,” she said softly. She turned to her lover and tried not to show in her face how much she felt for him, “I think it’s a wonderful idea. Schools all over the country are having their funding for the arts cut to almost nothing. They’re forcing the kids to focus on science and math and disregarding the kids who were born to be artists, actors, musicians. It’s just wrong.”