Page 63 of Always Mine
“Sorry, baby, I just need to grab my phone and check in with my team to make sure Chiara got home safely,” I say as I reach over her relaxed body to retrieve my phone from the table.
“Mmmmm…how’s that all going?” she asks sleepily while I quickly tap out a message. “Is she still getting you hot and bothered by making you listen to audio porn?” Her body shakes against mine asshe laughs silently at her own joke. “We’ve messaged back and forth a few times. She said she’s working on a photography project.”
Rolling out from behind her, I pin her beneath me and place my forearms by either side of her head to cage her in.
“Ha-ha. If the law thing doesn’t work out, you should consider a career in standup comedy,” I say, smiling down at her. “And yes. She’s had me driving around all of Manhattan and beyond for this secret project she’s unveiling at the Natalia Hirsch exhibition next weekend. I think there’s a bit more to this visit and her involvement in the exhibition than she’s told her uncle or cousin.”
“Interesting. We’ve been talking about planning a girls’ day so she can meet Stella and Evie. Maybe she’ll spill her secret then.” With her air-dried hair fanned out around her, she looks up at me with all the heat of a good girl thinking very naughty things. “Speaking of spilling secrets…” A languid smile spreads across her pretty face as she reaches up and pulls gently on the medallion of the gold chain hanging off my bare chest to bring me closer. “How about you show me what you’ve been learning in your sex ed class, Mr. Marrone.”
With a dark chuckle, I follow her lead and lower my body down to hers, keeping most of my weight in my forearms. Her hard buds peak through the soft fabric of her t-shirt, telling me what she wants. I decide on the spot that I’m never washing that t-shirt again. I capture her bottom lip and give it a nip, eliciting a groan from her, and on instinct she wraps her legs around my hips and pushes down on my ass to pull me closer. She uses the heels of her feet to push my sweat pants down over my hips and free my cock. Her wet, hot center kisses my skin. It feels like she’s brandishing me. A mark I’d happily wear forever.
“Who’s a greedy Kitten,” I taunt, letting her take a bit more of my weight so she can find the friction she’s desperate for as l lower my thickening cock to fit snugly between her peachy cheeks, slowly rubbing on her like a cat on heat. We’re both lost in each other.
Kissing. Rubbing. Pawing at bare skin and hemlines and waistbands so we can take our pleasure. It’s as though we’remaking up for lost time and trying to discover the roadmap to each other’s bodies and wring out as much pleasure as possible.
I put a handbrake on what is quickly becoming another frenzied tangle of us. “I get it, we’re totally past the slow-as-a-snail phase, but the next time I fuck you until you’re screaming my name, I want it to be in my bed.” I grip her ass to pull her up onto my body so I can walk us to my bedroom, where I plan for us to spend the rest of the weekend. But before I can make it very far, there’s an incessant ringing of my doorbell interspersed with a loud fist thumping at my front door, and a familiar voice shouting my name loud enough to wake the dead. Sophia tenses in my arms.
“What the fuck,” I say as I let Sophia slide down my body, her wide-eyed reaction a match to mine.
I try to adjust myself as I walk towards the display of the door camera in the foyer, right above the aftermath of our earlier tryst. My attempt at trying to tamper with the evidence tenting the front of my sweats is futile, but I grab the nearby henley I discarded earlier and pull it on before opening the door to reveal the cock-block banging it down.
“Luca! This better be good, bro.”
“Marco, you need to help me,” he says as he barges past me. His eyes are wild, and he’s running his hands through his hair, tugging on the ends. He looks panicked and strung out from stress and probably too much alcohol.
“Are you fucking high?” I bite out.
“No! Fuck you! As I was leaving Bella Donna, Arabella got a phone call. I don’t know the details of the conversation, but it was heated. I was ready to call it at night, hopefully with her, but she said she wanted to go for one more drink,” he explains. “I tried to coax her to leave it for another time, but she was well beyond buzzed at this point, absolutely adamant she was going with or without me.” He pauses for a beat before continuing. “I just… Fuck! I just didn’t want her to go alone. I’ll be leaving again soon, and even after everything, I just want to be where she is.” He trails off before shaking his head. “So anyway, we end up at this exclusive members only club called La…La something in the Hell’s Kitchen.”
La Rosa. I grit my teeth. Fuck. Something about this sounds suspicious. First Arty lures Sophia there. Now Luca ends up there by way of Arabella Belmont. My mind is already in overdrive trying to connect the dots as to why two from my inner circle have ended up at La Rosa, the new business I’m soon to own but have kept under wraps from them all. Luca’s panicked voice brings me back to the present.
“I only got in because Arabella vouched for me and, well, because I’m me. Professional F1 driver and all that.”
“How could I forget,” I say sarcastically, still stewing over his poor timing and this entirely too coincidental sequence of events. Sophia joins us in the foyer wearing nothing but my t-shirt and a blanket draped around her, and I’m reminded what we were in the middle of when we were rudely interrupted by this intruder.
“Where the fuck are your clothes, Sophia?” shrieks Luca dramatically, looking back and forth from me to his sister. “I’m scarred! How am I going to un-fucking see this! You’re…you’re not wearing pants and look freshly fucked!” He grins and arches an eyebrow. “Wait ’til Papa Princi gets this on his radar; maybe it will get him off my back.”
“Focus, Luca. Also for the record, any fucking kinda flew out the door I opened to find your sorry ass on my doorstep yelling like a banshee.”
“Seriously, Luca. When will you learn. After everything that happened, that girl has you running after her like a puppy every time,” Sophia says, exasperated.
“Damn Arabella. She’d find a way to scandalize a convent,” I add.
“I mean, she wouldn’t be the first...remember Maria?” he says.
“Luca,” I growl. “Are you fucking serious right now.”
“The Sound Of Music, Marco. A classic,” he says.
I pin him with a death stare. This is who Luca is. An eternal optimist. The jokester.
Always looking on the bright side. Except I know lingering just underneath is a darkness that threatens to rain down on his sunny side up. And one of those black clouds is the blonde bombshell who brought him to my doorstep out of his mind with worry.
“If you want to make it out of here alive, tell me everything you remember. Every fucking detail, and don’t leave out a single thing.”
Hands raised in surrender, Luca recounts the night’s events. “We were there with these friends of hers. We all had a few drinks together, but I could sense an underlying dark edge there. They looked slick, but in theI’m with the mobkinda way. Decked out in all black. Gold chains. Built. Strong. Tattoos on both knuckles. They were pleasant to me—but I couldn’t help noticing the hushed side conversations. Eyes that never stopped scanning. Anyway, one guy was possessive of Arabella. I think his name was Rizzo.”
Fuck. Luca is still rambling, but the whooshing in my ears makes it sound like he’s talking under water. I’ve got an uneasy feeling about this. I’ll say it to the day I die—I don’t believe in coincidences. I fully tune back in, Luca’s voice clearer now.