Chapter 24 Cesare
I walked back into the loft, still irritated. Fighting with Blake hadn’t been on my list of shit to do today, but sometimes you had to put your kids back in their place or they thought they could walk all over you. Which they couldn’t. I wasn’t going to let them pull that shit.
“You’re back!”
Glancing up, I stopped what I was doing to stare at Rafael. He was wearing a pair of black jeans, the top silvery and almost glittery but also… see-through. Hints of his light brown skin peeked through, and I glared.
“No.”
“What? Why?” he asked.
I sighed. “Do you have to dress like you’re…” I waved a hand.
“A faggot?”
I jolted. “Jesus, I didn’t say that.”
“You meant it,” he snapped back. “You love when I dress like this at home.”
“In my home, that’s okay. I don’t give a fuck. Out there”—I pointed toward the door—“that’s different. I have associates, friends, enemies. They see you dressed like that and they’re gonna have my fuckin’ balls in a vice because you wanted to play pretty princess.”
Rafael stared at me. For a moment, I stopped. My words had come out a lot harsher than I had intended them to. After Blake, I was already irritated, and seeing Rafael go back to his shit was making me crazy. My life had rules. Why couldn’t he fucking understand that?
“Never mind,” Rafael said. “I don’t feel like going out.”
I groaned. “Don’t start acting like a bitch. Just… put a goddamn jacket on and let’s go.”
Rafael didn’t look at me. “It’s fine. I’ll stay inside.”
I crossed the room and grabbed a handful of his hair. When he tried to break free, I shoved him down onto the couch and hovered over him, my knee pressed into the couch beside his hip.
My hands tightened. “I said put a jacket on and let’s go. Not gonna ask again. I’m not in the mood to play games. So get you a nice jacket, get in the car, and shut the hell up. That’s your only option. You understand, whore?”
Rafael frowned. “Cesare…”
My hand wrapped around his throat. “Do not test me right now. I’m not in the mood.”
“O-okay.”
“Good boy.” I slapped his face lightly. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”
I needed the time away from my place. My family.
The feud. Right now, I had to focus on something other than what was going on or I would lose my mind.
Blake’s face came back to me. He’d been so pissed.
Over York? There was no way. Was he really that upset over Paolo’s little fiancé? It made no sense.
“Ready.”
Glancing up, I noted the jacket Rafael wore.
It was leather, short, still showing off the sheer shirt on his stomach.
I looked him up and down. Honestly, he looked best when he wore whatever he wanted, but I had a reputation to keep.
You got too far outside of what lugheads in the family thought and you would be scraping up teeth and dumping bodies until the end of time.
No one had time for that. Besides, I was a traditionalist. Why did he have to show so much skin?
“Let’s go,” I said, approving. “Get your shoes on. Come on.”
I drove to Luxe Allure in silence. My thumb drummed on the steering wheel, the leather cool beneath my touch as I weaved in and out of packed traffic.
My eyes darted toward Rafael. He was staring out of the window, his jaw tight.
I reached over and laid my hand on his thigh.
When he didn’t shove it away, I squeezed.
“Why are you pouting?” I muttered.
“I’m not,” he said. “You just seem like you’re not in a great mood so I’m giving you space.”
I searched his face again. “I’m fine.”
“Okay.”
I was pretty sure we were both liars. After a while, I turned a corner and pulled up in front of the sleek nightclub. The valets out front hurried over as I stepped out and opened Rafael’s door. He slipped his hand into mine before I pulled him to his feet.
“Loosen up,” I said. “You wanted to go dancing, and I don’t want to think about my bullshit meeting. Your only job is to have some fun for me tonight, gattino.” I grabbed his chin. “Okay? Can you do that for me?”
“Yeah,” he said, smiling a little. “I can do that.”
“Good. Let's go in.”
I laid a hand in the middle of his lower back and guided him into the club. We swept inside with a few words and the pass of some cash. Once we were inside, I took Rafael up to the VIP area and sat down on a low couch. I grunted as I adjusted myself and undid my suit jacket.
“Better?” I asked.
Rafael sat next to me. “It would be better if we had a drink.”
I shook my head. “You’re spoiled.”
He smiled. “Not yet.”
Groaning, I grabbed the attention of a bottle girl and ordered one for us.
Rafael took his drink, tequila with lemon and salt, and he sat back, enjoying himself.
I watched him lick the back of his hand.
The wet stripe glistened under the lights, salt sprinkling over his flesh before he grabbed a slice of lemon.
My eyes tracked every moment; the way he took his shot, the lick of the salt, the face he pulled when he sucked on the lemon.
When his eyes met mine, I looked away, leaning back against the couch.
My cock strained against my pants. What was he doing to me? I had better control over myself.
“You gonna sit here all night or dance?”
Rafael looked at me. “Are you dancing with me?”
“No. I don’t dance.”
He frowned. “Come on. Just one.”
“I. Don’t. Dance,” I reiterated. “Are you deaf? What do you want me to do? Stand there?”
An array of emotions crossed over his face before it settled on calm indifference. “Fine, you don’t have to. It’s cool.”
My stomach tightened as he got up. I already knew before he even left the VIP area that he was about to do something stupid.
He had that look on his face that every single person I’ve ever dated got when they were about to make me do something they would later call irrational.
Rafael moved down on the first floor. Weaving through the throng of people with ease.
He was taller than most, so keeping him in my line of sight was easy.
His body moved to the music effortlessly.
His hips swayed as he danced. The tension in my shoulders eased up as I let out a breath.
I sat back on the bench and sipped my drink, my gaze never wavering from Rafael.
He twisted around, and the small glimpse of his ass made me want to say fuck it and join him.
I wasn’t going to; this would have to do.
My eyes weren't the only ones on him. Men and women were slowly gravitating closer to him. Irritation steadily simmered under the surface. Was God fucking challenging how much I could handle in one lifetime?
Everything was fine until he decided to dance with someone.
Some shaggy black-haired man eased up behind Rafael.
He put his hand on his back, which made my jaw tighten, but I figured he was just trying to move past him.
When he leaned in, his mouth too fucking close to what was mine, and spoke to Rafael though, I stood up.
I didn’t give a fuck what he was saying; he better get away from him.
He grabbed Rafael's arms, touching him too freely for my liking. He raised them and draped them over the back of his head like my whore was his to play with. Their bodies started to move, and it was like something snapped. The last thread of patience I had for the night.
I was out of the VIP section in seconds.
My hand wrapped around the man’s upper arm tightly. He stopped, stared up at me, and before he could open his mouth to bitch, I shoved him. The asshole stumbled over his own feet before I turned and grabbed Rafael.
“You really want to play games with me tonight, huh?” I asked. The thumping music had nothing on the rage thundering in my skull.
Rafael tried to pull out of my grasp, but I tightened my grip on his arm. “We were just dancing.”
I leaned in until my lips pressed against his ear. “Yeah? And he’s about to just get a bullet put between his eyes. I already told you the kind of night I was having. You really want to play with me?”
“No.”
“Huh? I can’t hear you,” I growled.
“No, Cesare,” he said almost breathlessly. When I pulled back, he looked at me. His pupils were blown, leaving only a sliver of the pretty hazel behind. “So does that mean you’ll dance with me now?”
I stared at him like he’d lost his mind.
There was something seriously wrong with this one.
All this time, I hadn’t fully thought about who he might be or what was wrong with him.
Grand Myah did extensive background checks before hiring, and I was damn sure that anything that came my way, I could handle.
Now, however, I was starting to wonder if there was something up with him.
I grabbed him and pulled him against me.
Fuck. The only reason I knew how to dance was because of Gabriela.
She would never let up until I learned to move and not be as stiff as a skeleton, as she’d said more than once to me.
Now, my hand pressed against Rafael’s back as some track played, reminding me of the samba music I’d been made to dance to until I used to wave Gabriela off and make her leave me alone.
Rafael gasped when I dragged him close, and then he looked up at me. His smile should annoy me further but he looked too fucking pleased with himself. He’d pay for that later. His touch was confident as he placed his hands in the right place.
Fine. Fuck it. I left my shitty mood behind, glanced around the club once, and when I didn’t see anyone I knew, I started dancing with him. Rafael’s eyes went wide as he started moving with me, his hips fluid where it took more work for me to get the moves right.
He pressed against me. I felt the hard ridge of his cock against my body as he shifted back and forth, his hips working before he smiled. A growl worked its way up my chest. Rafael threw his head back and let out a soft laugh as I spun him around and yanked him against me. He moaned.
I’m so fucked.