Dirty Page 3

  Not wasting any time, I shower quickly before climbing into the stale-smelling bed.

  An hour later, and I’m listening to a concerto. Cries of passion and pain emanate from the room next to mine. I fall asleep to the raw sounds of sex as Ling turns Chip bad for the evening.

  My marriage wasn’t always this way. In the beginning, it was everything I could have hoped for. In fact, I had secretly wished for a husband like Dino. He held me together. He was supportive and patient and kind. Dino swiftly became my rock.

  Having dated for six months before our wedding, I quickly learned Dino Gambino was a sweet, funny man. I loved that he was possessive and kept me in arm’s reach, always touching me, seeking comfort and warmth. It was nice to be needed by someone for once in my life.

  What I hadn’t expected was the bond we had formed in the short time we had known each other. It was the two of us against the world. Comrades. And soon enough, he became my best friend, the person I called when I just needed to vent about my father or hear a familiar voice. He always made me smile and laugh. His happy-go-lucky attitude was contagious. Dino could always pull me out of one of my dark moods.

  The day we married, I looked up into the eyes of my best friend and said “I do” without hesitation.

  I considered myself lucky. How many people could say they had married their best friend?

  My sisters watched us in awe, amazed that two people in an arranged marriage could be so happy. It gave them hope.

  As the ceremony completed and we shared our first kiss as man and wife, Dino dipped me, and I clutched at him as we laughed into each other’s mouth. Both families erupted in a roar of applause and catcalls.

  We truly were united, then and forever.

  Till death do us part.

  That night, Dino took me to our new home. That’s when it got awkward, for me anyway. I was a virgin. During one of our late night conversations, I had confessed this, my face warming with a harsh blush. I smacked my palm to my forehead in the deafening silence that followed.

  Duh! I was an eighteen-year-old daughter of a mob boss. Of course I was a virgin.

  But Dino just chuckled, and the rough sound washed over me like a safety blanket. “I know, Bella. Don’t worry about that right now. We’ll talk about it when we need to.”

  He just made it so easy for me to be me, and I appreciated that to no end.

  Regardless of how awkward I was, Dino took me in his arms and kissed me. We had shared kisses before, but they were nothing like this one.

  This one was slower, deeper, much more precise, and I felt something stir inside of me.

  Sure, Dino was my friend, but he was also my husband, not to mention stunning. This was his husbandly right. I believed in living marriage in every sense of the word. I wanted children, and there was only one way to achieve that goal.

  As he pulled away and his lips left mine, I felt the loss deep inside me. He looked down into my eyes. “Is this okay?”

  I nodded immediately, enthusiastically, and he huffed out a laugh before his lips were on mine once more. He touched me in all the right places, and for a moment, I was appalled at my body’s reaction to him. It was only after Dino explained that everything that was happening was a good thing that I began to relax.

  With no mother or aunts to tell me what to expect, all I could do was rely on Dino and trust him.

  Who else could I ask about sex? My father? My brother?

  I don’t think so.

  He undressed me with such care and kissed me in places I had never been kissed before. I was lost to myself. I willingly placed my body in Dino’s care.

  As he began to undress, I watched in silence. The more clothes he removed, the higher I drew the sheet, hiding behind it. When the final piece of clothing was removed to reveal the one part of a man I had never seen before, I dropped the sheet, blinking in shock.

  That was it?

  How the hell was that going to fit where it needed to fit?

  I was no doctor, but I quickly deduced that the only way that would fit inside of me was with major surgery.

  He stepped closer to me. I drew back.

  Sensing my hesitation, he asked what was wrong. Swallowing and blinking, I made no effort to hide my curiosity. After a short while, I opened my mouth, my voice a mere hush. “This is going to hurt.”

  Dino’s smiling face fell then softened, and to my surprise—and disappointment—so did the part of him I was so interested in. My stomach twisted in a flurry of conflicting emotions. I was part relieved, part saddened.

  He climbed into the bed and pulled me into his side. I was naked, but I didn’t hesitate; I held onto him like I had a hundred times before. This was my husband, and I would not be ashamed in front of him. It was obvious the thought of hurting me was enough to put him out of the mood. I took this as a good sign.

  “Yes, this is going to hurt.” When my body went rigid in his arms, he gently ran his fingers down my back, soothing me. “But it won’t last long. And it’s only the first time. I promise. It’s the price you pay for the ultimate pleasure.”

  I nearly pouted. Nearly. “I don’t see it hurting you.”

  His body shook underneath me in silent laughter. “You wound me, Alejandra.” I felt his lips on my forehead. “I’ve been in constant pain for six months straight.”

  I lifted my face to look into his eyes. I was confused. “Why?”

  He searched my face then gently cupped my cheek. “Been hard, baby.” He emphasized this by pressing his hips to mine, his hard length burning hot at my stomach.

  My eyes widened in surprise.

  He had been like this for six months?

  Poor Dino.

  I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, let my husband suffer a day longer.

  Pasting on a smile, I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his warm lips. I kissed him invitingly. Needing no further encouragement, his arms came around me, pulling me closer. We spent hours exploring each other, and I was shocked but pleasantly surprised at the experience of my very first orgasm.

  Dino was right.

  It hurt.

  But he was right a second time.

  The pain passed.

  As Dino found his release, I lay in his arms and found myself wondering when he would want to do it again. I established rather quickly that Dino wanted to do it whenever our schedules allowed it, and at times, even when they didn’t.

  I wasn’t exactly displeased by this. I liked sex. More importantly, I liked sex with my husband.

  For five months, our relationship was amazing.

  Then one night, Dino confessed he was in love with me.

  To say I was stunned was putting it mildly. I was dumbfounded.

  Dino was a smart man. We both came into this marriage knowing what it was. I was happy with the idea of having a strong friendship with my husband, and, of course, I had a deep regard for him. I didn’t want to see him unhappy. But I didn’t love him. And I couldn’t understand why he would complicate our relationship with flowery emotions.

  I responded with, “Thank you.”

  This was not the response Dino had expected. He pulled away from me. I watched his hurt quickly morph into anger. He asked me if I loved him too, and I was honest.

  A lesson for the future: Honesty is not the best policy.

  Before my eyes, the man I had married, my best friend, had transformed into something dark. Something scary.

  Part of me had always known Dino was a dangerous man, but I had yet to see that side of him.

  Then I did something stupid. I told Dino I cared about him very much, that he was my best friend.

  This only caused his anger to spike.

  Dino left that night. He picked up his keys, left his wallet and drove away from me. Frantic with worry, I called his cell and sent him countless texts asking him to come home. Exhausted and saddened by this turn of events, I fell asleep in our marital bed.

  Waking in the middle of the night and hearing Dino’s voice s
ent relief coursing through my veins. Dressing in a robe, I made my way downstairs, determined to end this fight before it got any worse. As far as first fights go, this was a doozy.

  Stepping into the family room, I reached forward and turned on the light. The image that greeted me would forever be seared into my mind’s eye.

  Dino sat back on the sofa—the sofa we had chosen together a week before our wedding—while a young woman sucked his dick with great enthusiasm.

  I stood there, glued to the spot, watching.

  The woman’s head bobbed as she worked my husband’s cock. Then Dino opened his eyes. They were bloodshot. He blinked slowly then his gaze landed on me. And he smiled. He smiled that dazzling smile I loved.

  I would never be affected by that smile again. That smile was dead to me.

  Reaching down, he fisted the woman’s blonde hair and pushed her down harder, forcing her to work harder. And she did, gagging but moaning all the while.

  Shame on me. I stupidly forgot how people reacted to men like Dino. And secretly, somewhere deep inside, I wished I was affected by him the way this woman was. But I wasn’t.

  And now, I never would be.

  His words slurred, he uttered a cold, “Hey, baby. Wanna join us?”

  The woman turned to face me, and I lifted a hand to my mouth. She was no older than me. Her brows furrowed, and she asked, “Who’s that?”

  Dino and I responded in unison. “My wife.” “His wife.”

  Heart aching at the betrayal of my husband and friend, I forced a smile and managed to get out, “Have fun,” before turning and walking away. I heard Dino grate out, “Get the fuck out of here,” followed by a feminine gasp and light thud as he pushed her to the floor.

  It would be the first of many identical incidents.

  The front door opened then closed as the woman let herself out. Footsteps followed me down the hall. As my foot landed on the first step, a strong hand grasped my elbow and pulled me back harshly. Not used to this kind of treatment, I shouted an outraged, “Hey!” Then I was up against the wall with a threatening hand laced around my throat.

  The hand rested there in warning and Dino’s eyes blazed. “Jealous?”

  Jealous? No. Feeling betrayed and angry? Yes.

  I swallowed hard at the look in his eye, and whispered, “No.”

  The impact of his palm across my cheek had me letting out a surprised yelp.

  I looked up at Dino Gambino and quickly realized I was in trouble, and I didn’t know my husband at all. I tried again, “Dino, what is this?”

  The hand around my neck tightened slightly. Leaning into my face till we were nose to nose, he growled, “You were meant to love me.” He kissed me then. He tasted of whiskey and lemon candy. Before this night, I liked that taste. Today, I was petrified. Against my lips, he asked, “Do you love me?”

  I didn’t answer, that being my answer.

  Dino’s non-verbal response was a slap across my face, harder than the last.

  A surprised gasp tore through me. Throat tight, I blinked through my tears and tried desperately to get a grasp on this rapidly declining situation. Struggling to breathe, my chest heaved as my heart beat out of my chest.

  I was in deep trouble, and no one was coming to save me.

  “Do you love me, Alejandra?”

  I would have told him I did that time, if I had been given time to answer. Opening my mouth a second too late, the impact of a different kind of blow shook me.

  Dino had punched me. He punched me right in the mouth.

  I had never been punched before that night. The overwhelming amount of pain radiating from my throbbing face was also new. There had been the odd occasional fight with my sisters when I had been hit in a moment of anger, but those times were always followed by immediate remorse from the person responsible. I had never experienced anger like this. I was visibly shaken. I couldn’t think of anything other than, who is this man?

  Thrown to the cold, hard floor, the metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. My lip tingled and began to swell, and my teeth felt loose. I tried to swallow, but his hand tightened around my neck, lifting me by it. Stars exploded before my eyes as Dino slammed my head back against the wall. There was no way out of this.

  I had given my vows. This would be my life until Dino decided to take it for his own.

  The realization that only I could change how this went down hit me with a force like no other.

  Dino asked me a third and final time, “Do you love me, Bella?”

  This time, I answered with no hint of hesitation. My body trembled. Breathing rapidly through my bleeding nose, I lied on a fearful whisper, “Yes, Dino. I love you.”

  Pausing, he laughed then, a cold sound. Loosening his hold on me, but never letting go, I heard relief line his voice. “I knew you did.” His lips descended, and he kissed me hard. I shuttered my wince. I was still frightened of Dino, but some of the gentleness I’d known had returned. He nipped at my bleeding lip, pulling back to look me in the eye. He stared unblinking before confessing a desperate, “I love you, too, baby.”

  His hand brushed my bruised cheek, and his knuckles passed over my split lip, forcing a hiss out of me. Looking somewhat concerned, Dino placed his arm around my shoulders and walked me upstairs. He took me into the bathroom and, gently as possible, wet a cloth and cleaned me up. Lacing his fingers through mine, he attempted to escort me to bed. I hesitated. Dino’s eyes met mine, brow raised in question.

  The monster inside currently leashed, I strained a small smile that didn’t reach my eyes and looked over to the toilet. He got the hint and, with a swift kiss on my swollen lips, left me to relieve myself in peace. When I closed the bathroom door, the floodgates opened. I held myself tightly around my middle, collapsing on the floor in silent sobs.

  I don’t know how long passed before Dino knocked on the bathroom door asking if everything was okay. Flushing the toilet, I washed my tearstained face and made my way out to sleep in my marital bed with a man who had laid his hands on me.

  My husband made love to me that night. He loved me so sweet and gentle that after he had fallen asleep, I cried silently into my pillow in relief. He held me throughout the night, his arms familiar and his body warm.

  When I woke in the morning, I found Dino sitting at the foot of our bed, naked, cradling his head in his hands. My movements alerting him to my newly awoken state, he looked up at me. Still unsure, I pulled the sheet up to my chin and attempted to lick my lip, but as my tongue passed over the split, I winced. I wouldn’t see what he saw in my face until later that day, but his reaction said it all. I was a mess. And he was remorseful.

  He stood up, looking down at my face, unblinking. His hands balled at his sides, his jaw locked, I saw many emotions pass through his eyes. Pain, sympathy, fury, shame. Placing his hands on his hips, he dipped his chin and I waited.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice shaking.

  Hope ignited somewhere inside of me. A small flame I fanned at furiously, desperately, refusing to let it fade to black.

  Black was not an option.

  I refused to believe I had married a monster. I was sure the night before had been a one-off situation.

  I was wrong.

  Tired, frustrated, and hungry, I sit on the edge of the too soft motel bed as I slide on my shoes then tie them.

  I tell myself to be cool, but Ling and her prom date, Chip, kept me up last night. I’m not feeling very forgiving. I swear to God, if I hear her mutter a word of complaint about being tired today, I will kick her skinny, Gucci-covered ass.

  Making my way to the bathroom, I run a hand over my hair, brush my teeth and wash my face. The bags under my eyes are not a good look, especially when a meeting has been scheduled. Shaking my head lightly at my reflection, I sigh then mutter under my breath, “Fucking Ling.”

  The woman is a serious pain in my ass.

  I run my hands over my suit jacket then head out, picking up my bag on the way. I slide o
n my sunglasses then approach Ling’s door. I knock hard, once. When she doesn’t answer immediately, I bite the inside of my cheek in annoyance. As I lift my hand to knock again, she opens the door.

  My eyes drift over her. She’s dressed, made up, primped and ready to go. Her cherry red lips curve up into a smile, and when I see not a single glimpse of exhaustion on her face, it pisses me off tenfold.

  But then she does something that reminds me of why I keep her around.

  “Good morning, sunshine.” Beaming, she holds out a paper bag and a takeaway coffee cup in the largest size available. Extra points to Ling as I notice the paper bag has grease stains on it.

  With a grunt, I take the bag and coffee in one hand then reach down to lift Ling’s duffle then mine with the other. Making my way to the car, I hear her soft laughter behind me. “What crawled up your ass this morning?” As she passes me to stand by the passenger side, her smile turns sly. “If you ask nicely, I’ll tell you all about what crawled up mine last night.”

  My lip curls as I unlock the car and step inside, throwing our bags into the back seat. Hearing more feminine laughter only fuels my bad mood.

  I take a much-needed sip of coffee. It’s lukewarm but strong. Shit, it could be ice fucking cold, and I would still treat it like a lover. Opening the bag, I peer inside, and my stomach growls loudly. Whatever is in there smells good. I reach in and, without stopping to inspect it, unwrap half of the sandwich and take a monstrous bite. The taste hits me, and I groan. Swallowing, I take another bite of the egg and bacon burger, barely chewing before taking another bite.

  I feel eyes on me. Still chewing furiously, I turn to Ling and pause midchew. Mouth full, I garble, “What?”

  Her lip curls in revulsion as her brow rises. “I will never get used to the way you eat. You’re a pig.” She mock-shudders. “Disgusting.”

  Throwing the last quarter of the burger into my mouth, I speak around it. “Old habits.” I pick up the coffee and sip it. “If you’d ever been to prison, you’d get it.”

  Ling eyes me in disbelief before turning to look out the window. “I know lots of people who were in prison. Fucked ‘em too.” She pins me with a stare. “And they don’t eat like pigs.”