Epilogue II Rafael
Three Weeks Later
"You're late," I reminded Cesare as I sat at the kitchen table.
"Things ran late.” He ate up the distance between us. His large hands cupped my face and brought our mouths together.
I'd never grow tired of the way his lips felt pressed against mine. Butterflies erupted in the middle of my stomach. I opened my mouth, and he took it for the invitation it was. Our tongues twisted together in a familiar dance that made my toes curl every time.
Cesare never apologized, but he made up for things in other ways. He pulled back, and I unashamedly chased after him.
"I made reservations at that restaurant you were gushing over."
I blinked a few times, trying to make sure I heard him right. "The new Michelin star one?"
Cesare nodded. "We have the chef's table."
"You're kidding."
"Go get changed."
I glanced down at what I was wearing and ran across the room. In the bedroom, I chose a simple piece. Nothing over the top. Black slacks with a fitted green top. It made the green in my hazel eyes pop even more. I pulled my hair back and was out in the next few minutes.
"Ready."
Cesare was leaning against the wall closest to the elevator. "Go change."
"What's wrong with this?"
"It's not you."
Huh? I licked my lips, looking down at my clothes, then back to the man I loved. "But—"
"Rafael, if we're going to make reservations, then you need to get changed."
I heard what he was saying, but was he saying I could wear whatever I wanted?
I bit my lip, watching him intently. Cesare sighed, pushed off the wall, and headed toward me.
His fingers found their way through my hair, releasing it from the low ponytail.
He tightened his fist around the silky strands.
"I said go get dressed." He brought his lips so close but left the smallest amount of distance between us. It was pure torture. "I want you to look good on my arm tonight for the world to see."
"Really? I mean, Cesare, I don't care about any of that. You're all I care about."
His smile was warm and had my love for him bubbling up to the surface.
"I know. But I won't hide what's mine. Not a single part of it.” His eyes darkened, an intensity I had never seen before, and something softer banked behind him. “I want my man to be who he is,” he whispered before he pressed his lips to my head. “Go on. Show everyone who the fuck you are. You’re mine.” He breathed into my hair deeply, inhaling my scent like he was living off of it.
I shivered. “Now go get changed,” he said as he shoved me away gently.
I stumbled back out of his hold, and my heart thudded erratically against my rib cage. "Eu te amo muito."
"Love you too."
My face felt hot as I headed back to the closet. If he was serious, then I was going to wear a statement piece. If he was going to announce us to the world, then I needed to make sure I looked good on his arm.
“Stay still.” I smoothed out the green face mask on Cesare’s face.
“This is re—”
“Cesare.”
He groaned. “Why do I have green shit on my face?”
I reached in my back pocket and clicked the clicker before kissing his nose. “To help with wrinkles and rejuvenate you. Plus you promised after being late to do what I wanted for the rest of the night.”
"Yeah, I thought I was getting ass," he mumbled. “I’m starting to regret that promise.” He settled more into the couch and let me finish putting on his face mask. "And I thought I told you to get rid of the goddamn clicker."
"Hmm? What clicker?"
"Rafael, you keep playing with me, and I’ll make you pay."
"Oh, with tears or cum?"
His lips quirked up in a smile that he tried to hide. "Fottuta puttana."
"And here these are for under the eyes."
His dark brown eyes focused on me intently. "You're doing this to torture me, aren't you?"
I rolled my eyes and sat back against the couch. Remote in hand, I pushed play on our latest couple show. Cesare groaned even as his gaze never wavered from the TV.
"This shit is going to rot my brain." He sipped his whiskey next to me. "You're a fucking lost cause." He said that, but any time I watched Marry Me Blindly without him, he was such a fucking dick the rest of the evening.
I brought my wine glass to my mouth, taking a generous sip as last week's couples were reintroduced.
"Now why did he ask her to go to Morocco if he doesn't like her?
" Cesare questioned. He cursed in a long string of Italian when it was time to meet the parents and the woman refused to eat the mother's cooking.
It was a shit show. "He clearly hates her.
What man refuses to kiss someone he's been flirting with?
What man decides work is more important than pussy?
" He shook his head. "Not a man with a dick. "
I nodded. "The only reason he's even taking her to meet his parents is because she was ready to break it off. She was going to stop sending money and talking to him. The engagement was going to end. He needs the green card."
"All this for a fucking green card?" He squinted at the TV, shaking his head.
"They've been talking for eight years. All that commitment and you fall short at the last minute?
" He gestured wildly to the TV. "Why can't he be like Jovie?
He's committed. He slept with her and promised her bullshit he can't deliver on. "
I snorted a laugh. "Not all of them are in it for the green card.
I think Jovie loves Clarrisa. Is it toxic?
Yes, she's controlling and manipulative. And he’s broke and a crybaby; it works for them.
" I pointed at the TV. "Those two have over thirty-five years of age difference, and every time she brings up sex, he comes up with an excuse.
And did you see how he reacted when she said that she might want to move to his country?
That was the biggest fight yet. He's a green card ho for sure. "
Cesare glanced at me. "A what?"
"You know, a ho who's in it for the green card. It's a thing."
He sighed. "That argument made sense. He had valid reasons. She refuses to learn the language. And she has the typical American mindset."
Whose side was he on? The woman wasn't a victim; she was using the guy just as much but Cesare had to see that this was just one long con.
"She's not even rich. She's in debt. This is so inefficient. There are easier ways to get into this country."
The other three couples were no better. Two of them were fighting and the last one the family despised the woman. It was a hot fucking mess but made for good entertainment.
By the end of the show, my timer went off, and I got up to get the washcloth. I came back to find Cesare scratching at his face mask.
"Not even gone for twenty seconds and already you're trying to peel it off."
"It's annoying."
I straddled his lap as I washed off his mask and tossed the cloth to the side. "You have a nice glow now."
Cesare grabbed his cigar, and I snatched it out of his hands to cut the tip and light it. I was up and over to the balcony door before he could object. I opened it slightly to help with the smoke and plopped back down.
"Fuck, Furball, not again." The damn cat tangled in my hair, growling like he was a lion and not this tiny little thing.
"I told you that's not his name," Cesare said with a little too much laughter in his voice for my liking. He wasn't even trying to pretend to help me.
I pulled this little bastard out of my hair and plopped him down on the other side of Cesare. "Then what is it? We can't keep calling it cat or kitten. I personally vote for Fur Devil."
"You cuddle him more than I do and yet you're always fighting with him."
"He's a selfish, gluttonous pig." I pointed at the damn thing and it batted at my finger.
"Would you two stop?" He clicked his tongue as he picked up the kitten. “Don’t hit your mom.”
Mom? This fucker.
Cesare pushed me back against the couch and did the same to the cat. He glanced over at the creature. "Hmm, what about Mayhem?"
I leaned forward and stared at the pain in the ass.
If the damn thing wasn't destroying my shit, he was all over the place.
We'd installed a wall carpet for him to scale along with foot holds all over for him to leap around. At three in the morning like clockwork, he could be heard zooming about the penthouse. Cesare and I had taken to locking the bedroom door at some point so he wouldn’t flop onto our faces. Or in my case, eat my hair.
"Yeah, I can see it. Mayhem the asshole."
Cesare chuckled under his breath. "Stop fighting with him." He picked the cat up and it started purring instantly. I swear it knew what it was doing. "Do you like it? Mayhem Vitale."
"Oh fuck no. The cat gets your last name before I do?"
Cesare glanced at me, his brows arched in question. "You planning on taking my last name?"
"Oh baby, this is for life." I smiled at him. I had no plans to ever go anywhere. And there was no escaping me. I'd find a way to be at his side no matter what.
Cesare put the cat down and dragged me onto his lap. I straddled it easily, positioning myself so my ass rested right over his crotch. Heat flared to life as pleasure ruptured through my body.
“Yeah,” he said as he touched my chin and turned my face toward him. “It is. Isn’t it?” he asked, his eyes searching mine before his gaze softened.
He kissed me.
There was nowhere else I wanted to be. I had Cesare Vitale, and he was all mine.