Chapter 55 Bring The Heat
Chapter fifty-five
Bring The Heat
Sophia
After brunching, shopping, and getting mani/pedis with Evie, Stella, Chiara, and Arabella, we decided a little infra-red sauna detox and rejuvenation was in order before we got ready for tonight’s event.
“Oh. My. God. I so needed this,” groans Stella, uncharacteristically.
She’s the sunshine in our group, so it’s got me wondering what’s got her so wound up.
The girl is all for working out kinks by indulging in a few of her own.
Her motto is: “Swipe right for a good time. No regrets. Take all the fucks. Zero given.” If Evie had a motto, it would be the complete opposite.
Manolo’s are more her thing, so I guess hers would be, “A killer pair of shoes can fix anything!” We’re a bunch of misfits, that’s for sure, and if I’m honest, Chiara slotted into our girl gang with ease.
She has zero filter, so it’s anyone’s guess what she’ll blurt out next.
I’ve decided I’m going to make Marco sweat tonight.
Even more than I already have by not answering even one of the twenty messages he’s sent.
Leaving him on read has clearly been like waving a red flag in front of a bull.
The messages that started sweet and apologetic—“Kitten, I’m sorry for being a possessive ass.
Can we just chalk it up to loving you being my toxic trait?
”—turned comedic—“What’s big, long, hard, rhymes with lick, and misses you?
” Then they escalated to downright filthy—“Let’s see how much you love being a brat when I put you on your knees and make you gag on my cock.
” As I’m quickly discovering, I fucking love Marco’s wicked side.
It’s awoken my own wild side, a part of me I didn’t feel confident sharing with anyone else.
I spent years convincing myself that maybe Marco and I were never meant to be, but he’s shown me in small and big ways just how effortless love can feel with the right person.
“This is heaven.” I allow myself to get lost in the delicious warmth licking over me, heating me up from the inside out as I imagine the scene Marco described.
In return, Stella groans. I crack an eyelid open and notice her furrowed brow.
The most easygoing of us, seeing her look stressed is disconcerting. “What’s going on, Stel?”
“Ugh! Well, you know how I have that friend who manages F1 drivers?
He just referred one of his drivers to me to work with intensively before the season kicks off.
He was all like, 'Just give him guidance and tools to get into the right headspace,' She slaps an imaginary buzzer and mimics the sound for an incorrect answer.
“He totally failed to mention that this guy is fucking impenetrable. Like, double-brick with a layer of Teflon. Not to mention grumpy as fuck. It’s energy-zapping.
To the point I don’t even have the will to swipe right and get me some dick to take the edge off.
And you know that’s saying something.” She scoffs, her full lips pursed in a pout.
Chiara snickers conspiratorially, like she’s found her kindred spirit, and Evie mutters a “For fuck’s sake,” which Stella ignores while plowing right on.
“Not wanting to fuck around is not even the worst bit! The worst bit is that I am now fixated on trying to find a way to penetrate his walls, because I know if he lets me in, I can help him.” Then she adds with a salacious smile, “Yes, I said penetrate. No, I didn’t mean penetrate in that way, you filthy animals.
He’s my client, so any action of that nature is totally off the table—even if he is smoking hot.
“Speaking of action,” she continues, “what’s your story, Chiara? Have you got a hottie back home, or are you a free agent, swiping right to your heart’s content, like me?”
We all laugh like easy friends, but I notice the flash of pain in Chiara’s eyes.
“There was someone once. Unfortunately, he turned out to be all types of wrong. So I swore off men for a while—unless they were of the fictional variety,” she says brightly, making light of something that seems heavier than she’s letting on.
“But a few weeks ago I met the love of my life. Dark eyes. Full lips. Smooth, tanned skin. Fills a tailored suit like nobody’s business. Broody as fuck with BDE,” she says with a grin in my direction, because I know exactly who she’s referring to.
“Ooohhhh an insta-love trope,” squeals Stella, clapping her hands.
“Yup,” Chiara says, popping the p. “He just doesn’t know about it yet,” she continues with a devilish smirk and a shrug of her sweat-glistened shoulder. “Now that I have his number—thanks to Sophia—I intend on having a little fun while I make him fall madly in love with me.”
“Are you talking about Raf?” Evie snickers. “He sure leaves some kinda impression.”
“Just like your Sebby-baby?” taunts Stella. “I have it under good authority that you two chat on the reg.”
“You do know boys and girls can be friends and not want to fuck each other, right?” remarks Evie sarcastically.
“Ahhh, but where’s the fun in that?” retorts Stella.
That sets us all off on a fit of giggles.
“And you?” Chiara says, leaning over to bump Arabella’s delicate shoulder. “Since we’re all putting dibs on the sexy Princi men, what’s your story with your F1 lover boy?”
“It’s complicated.” Her expression turns somber.
“Doesn’t seem very complicated to me,” Chiara states. “It’s plain as day that man is obsessed with you. Damn girl, ride that fine man all the way to the finish line!”
“Yeah, well, obsessions aren’t always healthy, are they?” There’s something vulnerable in her tone, and for all Chiara’s unfiltered musings, she understands not to push Arabella on it. Truthfully, I’d have to agree considering my brother’s obsession is her.
“Well, since we’re sitting in hell confessing our sins”—Chiara gestures around the sauna—“I need to tell you all a secret of my own.” She pauses for dramatic effect.
“I didn’t just come here to attend the exhibition.
I assisted Natalia on the shoots featured in this exhibition, and she offered me a job as her first assistant, basing myself here in New York but also traveling with her.
She’s given my work a spotlight feature as part of her exhibition tonight. ”
“Chiara, that’s incredible!” I exclaim.
“She swore me to secrecy,” chimes in Arabella with a proud smile.
“I am so proud of you, but what have you decided? It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
“I’ve accepted the job, but my uncle doesn’t know. Neither does that overbearing ass of my cousin, AJ. I want to keep it that way until I get all my ducks in a row,” she says.
“Does Marco know?” I test the waters because I know for a fact he’s gotten wind of the secret Chiara is hiding.
“No! I need tonight go off without The Sopranos-type of drama the men in my family like to instigate before I tell them,“ she adds, voice dripping with sarcasm and a little trepidation.
“Your secret is safe with us,” Evie reassures her.
“You know what this calls for?” asks Stella, eyes glinting with mischief. “Celebration cock…tails!”
“As long as mine is tall, dark, broody, and called Raf, I am down with that,” quips Chiara.
We all burst out laughing, and all this talk of cocktails turns my thoughts back to the man I left all wound up in bed this morning. I reach for my phone and finally respond to his messages.
Me:
Hi. Hey. Hello.
Marco-Boy:
New phone. Who dis?
Me:
That’s my line but I’ll let you borrow it seeing as you’re fresh out of ideas.
Marco-Boy:
Ahhh. It’s all coming back to me now. Hello, Brat.
Me:
About that. Do brats get second chances? Asking for a friend.
Marco-Boy:
Depends. Which friend?
Me:
She’s about 5 ft. nothing, blew in on a private jet, traumatized your ears with audio porn, has no filter but is a total sweetheart.
Marco-Boy:
Maybe…what’s in it for me if I accept your “phone a friend” request?
Kitten:
Well, I hear her friend is hot and has a thing for bossy men with green eyes and a filthy mouth.
Marco-Boy:
Hmmmmm, sounds familiar. Does she also have a thing for a big cock?
Me:
Loves roosters.
Marco-Boy:
You misunderstood. One cock. No plural.
Me:
Oh. In that case. The bigger the better, baby.
Me:
Did you find out for sure if AJ will be coming? She’s got an amazing career opportunity riding on tonight. She needs everything to be perfect. No family drama.
Marco-Boy:
Leave it with me.
Marco-Boy:
How long until you’re ready to go?
Me:
Give us two hours. We’re getting ready at Evie’s.
Marco-Boy:
Sure thing. And Brat, paint those luscious lips of yours red. I want you to leave evidence of what else that smart mouth of yours is good for.
Yes. I intend on having a lot of fun tonight, too.