Page 5 of Falling for the Enemy

I can barely hear the preacher above the sound of my own heart beating. Her hands in mine is the softest feeling in the world. Somewhere in a hallway just off the room, there's another couple lining up to get married. This is the least romantic way we could have done this, but it feels right. "I, Matteo Vitale, take thee, Autumn Gallagher, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward."

Come what may, hell or high water, I will keep her safe. I will love her endlessly. I will cherish her. I may not have woken up this morning knowing that I was going to marry Autumn, but tonight I will go to bed with her by my side. And tomorrow when we face her family and mine, we'll do it together.

"You may now kiss the bride." The preacher doesn't sound particularly enthused, but my heart swells nonetheless.

With my hands wrapped around her waist to pull her close, I kiss Autumn Vitale, my wife. I feel her hips and breasts crushed against me. Her tongue presses against my lips boldly and I smile against her mouth.

Salvatore starts cheering in Italian and Isabella manages to find a bottle of champagne. I feel the bubbly liquid fall like raindrops, breaking our kiss when the preacher and staff start to yell at her. "It's fine," I try to tell him, "I'll pay for damages."

Autumn looks at me with stars in her eyes. Droplets of champagne darken splotches on her slip and it clings to her tight little figure. "Iz, come on," she places a hand over her friend's, "let's take this outside."

She's so calm and collected when inside I'm screaming. I've watched this woman from afar for so many years and now she's mine. In only a matter of hours, I've claimed her. All we need to do is sign our names on the dotted line and it's legal. Her family can't come between us. Her pesky brother can't take her from me. In a few hours, she'll be wedded and bedded. All those hours I spent imagining bridging the gap between the Vitale and Gallagher family are coming true.

"C'mon, Sal," I wink at my best man, "let's get a glass of champagne."

He looks starstruck by Isabella, but he follows me out. "I'm gonna hook up with that one tonight, mate."

I think about everything Autumn told me before warning Salvatore. "She's a wild card," I repeat my wife's words. "Be careful with her."

"I think I'm in love."

Somehow I doubt it. Salvatore falls in love the way the rest of us change our underwear: daily. But I think Isabella can handle herself. If anything, she'll break his heart and not the other way around. She looks like the kind of girl who can ruin a man. What was it she said about good pussy?

AUTUMN

Ican't explain the thrill in my stomach on the drive home. Not to my carefully curated house that's too large for me where cameras are artfully arranged in the corners of my common living areas, but mine and Matteo's shared home.

He looks shocked when I told him about the cameras. His grip on the steering wheel tightened and I was afraid he might lose control of the car. "My father is extremely protective," I explain. "He just wants to make sure I'm not doing anything that could besmirch the family name."

Matteo shoots me a quick glance thinly veiled in sarcasm. "Like marry a Vitale?"

I reach across the small expanse of space to run my hand along his arm. Feeling his skin beneath my own brings heat to my face. "Matteo, we have so much to learn about each other, but I promise to make you a good wife." In name and in deed.

Isabella gave me a rundown on sex. I know where all the parts go, it's just experiencing it for the first time. She said if Matteo is good enough, I'll barely even notice the pain. "If he sucks though, he'll probablybethe pain." I've been trying to shake that off ever since she said it. I can't imagine Matteo bringing me any pain.

We enter our neighborhood and it feels strange to pull into the wrong driveway. Matteo taps a button on his center console and the garage door opens. His home is almost like a mirror to mine. Except in my garage, I have boxes full of decorations that are out of season, Matteo has all of his lawn care essentials. My father hires out, Matteo diligently takes care of his own property.

"There are no cameras in my home," he reassures me as we enter, "feel free to get as comfortable as you'd like. This is all yours now, Autumn."

While the layout of his living room and kitchen are the same as mine, the difference is the furnishings. Everything in his home is white and modern, almost lacking in personality because he doesn't decorate. My home is more traditional. It's what my parents preferred and what I could live with. They would have taken the style back a few decades if they could.

Matteo comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my body. "It's late, Autumn. I want to go to bed, not just because it's been a long day, but because I want to be with my wife. I know," he pauses, "that it might be a little scary for you. We don't have to have sex tonight if you want to wait. You're young, I understand. I don't want you to think I married you just to get you into bed."

I twist in his arms to face him. Looking up at his gorgeous, strong jawline, I can't imagine ever feeling about a betrothed the way that I feel about Matteo. "I have longed for you from afar ever since you moved in. I don't know what I'm doing, so be gentle with me, okay?"

He lowers his lips to mine and kisses me. For such a strong, strapping man, he is surprisingly gentle with me. "Autumn, I love you."

Once upon a time, I dreamt of losing my virginity on the top floor of the tallest hotel on the strip. Afterward, I would get up and stand before the window, looking out at the lights of the Las Vegas skyline, and know that I was the queen of everything, if only for the night. Yet somehow I don't need all that. Miles away from the bustling sights and sounds of Las Vegas Boulevard, hidden away in a tiny little cul-de-sac no one has ever heard of, I let Matteo whisk me upstairs. All I can overlook is the street, but it's more than enough. I am his queen, and that's perfect for me.

Half of his bedroom is bathed in moonlight, the other drenched in shadows. Matteo flips on the light on the bedside table and a warm hue fills the room.

"You can see my living room from your window." I toss a smile at him over my shoulder. "Do you think we should sell my home and move into yours?"

Matteo crosses the floor in five long strides. His hands reach my shoulders first, gliding down my arms and erasing the goosebumps that have cropped up on my flesh. "We can do whatever you want, my love, but if we move to your home, I don't want to think about your father watching us have sex on the kitchen counter."

Everything below my waist pulsates. My mother has never been the type to exude sexual energy. I can't imagine the sex life that she has with my father, but I definitely can't imagine the two of them having sex in the kitchen. "People do that sort of thing?" I ask with a nervous laugh.

His lips brush against my neck and I feel his teeth graze my skin. "My love, a little kitchen sex is far from the most scandalous thing that people do."