Chapter Five
Dominic
Maria : I almost threw away my friendship bracelet. Took it off to wash dishes and nearly scooped it up when I was cleaning the counter.
Dominic: Rookie mistake.
Maria: Whatever. What are you doing now?
Dominic: Why? Feeling horny?
Maria: Not particularly. I’m in my sweats, scrolling through my social feed.
Dominic: You deserve to chill.
Dominic: I was summoned by my father. We’re currently playing chess. Well, he’s getting a drink, then we’ll finish playing.
Maria: The two of you and that game. It’s ridiculous, really.
Dominic: Gotta go. He’s back.
Maria: Good luck!
Dominic: You make your own luck in chess.
Maria: Right, right. Whatever you say.
“Mobility. It’s all about mobility,” my father said, sitting down with his drink and reciting the same thing he always said when we played chess. “You can’t have power without mobility.”
Smirking, I took in his words and freed my knight in a move that would inevitably block his rook if he didn’t move it—which I didn’t suspect he would. Not yet anyway. “And power is the most important thing?” I asked, leaning into whatever lesson he was trying to impart. With Santo Deluca, there was always meaning behind his words—something he was trying to teach me and my siblings when we played chess.
“It is if you don’t want to look back in fifty years and regret the chances you didn’t take,” he responded in a gruff voice, as he slowly brought a hand to his chin and scratched.
My family frequently talked with their hands, every movement giving voice to unspoken words. Through his actions, it was obvious—to me, at least—that my father was intent on the game but also looking to get a point across.
Furrowing my brows, I looked up from the board and had to wonder what exactly he was talking about. “Dad—”
He strummed his fingers on the edge of the table and narrowed his gaze. “Your brother told me about you babysitting for Maria Morelli.”
And there we go. Nothing further needed to be said. That was what this was about—Maria. Too bad I already knew where Dad stood on the topic. Anything he had to say at this point was as redundant as the amount of pasta this family consumed in a week.
“Dad, listen—”
“No, son, you listen to me.” Grabbing the remote from the arm of his chair, my father shut off the opera music playing in the background. “Maria is a very nice Italian girl, but we didn’t raise you to sit by and wait your turn. You’re a Deluca, and Delucas don’t sit idly by. They make bold moves to get what they want. You can’t wait for her forever.” His voice was stern and no-nonsense. He spoke with a conviction that would make a stranger quake in their boots.
What the hell was it with this family?
Shaking my head, I leaned back in my seat, no longer interested in playing chess. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t surprised. He always did this. He had an opinion and hell if he wasn’t going to make it known. “That’s not what I’m doing, and there’s nothing to wait for because I don’t like her like that.” Lie.
“Apologies,” he replied, waving a hand between us. “You love her.”
What, did I have it stamped on my forehead? I love Maria, and she has no clue. Why not tell her, though? Apparently, it was only a matter of time before she found out. “I don’t love her,” I tried to deny it. Tried being the operative word.
He scoffed. “Please, son, don’t pretend I’m an old fool. I’m not your friend, I’m your father, so I hope you have a little more respect for me, hmm?”
I cleared my throat. He talked about respect like he knew what the word meant. Apparently, he didn’t because he didn’t have enough respect for me to let this topic go and get on with the game. Not that this wasn’t exactly what that was to him—a game. It was a mind game, though, and I wasn’t a teenager any longer. I was sick of his mind games.
It was always the same thing with Santo—know your place and accept that he knew best. Not because he was older and wiser, but because he had more life experience.
I went to speak, but he raised a thick, gray, wiry eyebrow, and I decided why even bother. Anything I said was going to be ignored or shot down anyway.
“You need to take the bull by the horns and make a move. Otherwise, you’ll be nothing more than a pawn,” he said, making this out to be a lot simpler than it actually was. The situation with Maria was a lot of things, but simple was not one of them. And he didn’t even know the half of it. As far as everyone—minus Jade—knew, we were friends. Had they found out we were friends with benefits, they might have seen how things were complicated enough. There was no need to make things any more complicated by talking feelings.
Plus, how would that conversation go, anyway? Because, let’s be honest, I’d ran through it in my head a number of times, and it was a waste of time.
Hey, Maria, remember when we made those rules? Yeah, well, one of them was to not let emotions get involved, and I did that big time. When, you ask? Oh, I can’t remember the exact moment. I suppose it was sort of gradual, like a slow drip. The more we slept together, the more my feelings grew. Bottom line: I love you. But don’t worry, it’s not the all-consuming type of love because I don’t want to lose our friendship over it. You think we can forget this conversation ever happened if you don’t feel the same way?
I scrubbed a hand down my face. “I’m not a pawn,” I finally responded, wanting to put my fist through a wall, that was how frustrating these conversations were with my father. “We’re friends. Best friends.” Why couldn’t he understand this? Why couldn’t anyone?
“You love her,” he said, his deep, booming voice echoing in my head.
Repeating it wasn’t going to help anything, Dad. He could say it with all the conviction in the world, and I still wouldn’t confirm it.
My father continued, obviously intent on getting through to me. “You should stop saying you’re best friends. You can’t be best friends with the opposite sex. You also can’t be best friends with the woman you love.” His eyes were narrowed, and he was wearing a scowl, like he wouldn’t hear anything to the contrary.
The problem was that there was so much wrong with that statement, it wasn’t even funny. You could be best friends with the opposite sex. Loving Maria did, in fact, mean I loved my best friend .
So, really, if anyone agreed with my father that I couldn’t be best friends with the woman I loved, then sorry to disappoint you, but I was. Frankly, what shocked me was that my father seemed to be able to read me like a book.
“Look at your mother and me,” he continued, and I cringed, anticipating how much my mother would hate his next words.
“Got it, Dad. You and Mom aren’t friends,” I cut in, trying to stop him from putting his foot in it. Not that she would hear. She was out with her friends.
“No, we’re not. We’re husband and wife.”
Plenty of married couples were friends, right? I couldn’t be the only one who knew that to be true. It wasn’t some silly fantasy, like he made it out to be, it was a reality. Not that I’d bother arguing with him on it. There was no use, and it would’ve been more wasted breath.
Standing, I walked to the bar and poured myself a stiff drink, bringing the cool glass to my lips. “Good for you,” I mumbled as I set it down again and paced the room.
My father leaned back just like I’d done only moments before, placing his hands in his lap. “This isn’t about me. This is about you. You’ve always had power, but never mobility. You’ve boxed yourself into this silly notion of friendship with this woman. You need to make a move before it’s too late.”
Raking a hand through my hair, I stopped pacing and looked at the chessboard. The pieces were each strategically placed, but it didn’t matter that I could’ve easily won this round. No, this round wasn’t about winning or losing. It was about bringing me around to his way of thinking—that this board was representative of life.
“Do you see what I’m saying, son?” he pushed. “If you continue to sit on your hands, it doesn’t matter if you’re out of moves or not, because you will lose.”
If we were going by his way of thinking, and life was a chessboard, then I was stuck in one corner with Maria standing in the opposite corner from me.
And the mind boggle? I hadn’t the slightest clue how to reach my queen without breaking every other rule in the damn book.
* * *
Maria
Maria: Are you up?
Dominic: Yes.
Maria: I can’t sleep.
Dominic: I figured that one out when you texted me. Unless you sleep text, and I didn’t know about it.
Maria: Is that a thing?
Dominic: No damn idea.
Maria: What are you doing?
Dominic: What’s the right answer to that?
Maria: The honest one.
Dominic: Watching porn.
Maria: Wow, okay. Maybe a lie would’ve been better.
Dominic: Would you believe me if I said I’m watching it for you?
Maria: Don’t see how that adds up.
Dominic: It’s been three years, and you still haven’t orgasmed.
Maria: And you watching porn is the answer?
Dominic: Follow my logic on this one. I watch porn, something stands out as an idea to try to make you orgasm, and bam! I’m a god.
Maria: That’s one way of looking at it.
Dominic: My mind is a beautiful place.
Maria: Scary.
Dominic: Beautiful.
Maria: You’re beautiful.
Maria: I mean handsome.
Dominic: I don’t mind being referred to as beautiful.
Dominic: What are you wearing right now?
Maria: My pajamas. The least sexy thing in the world.
Dominic: So matching shirt and shorts.
Maria: You got it.
Dominic: What’s scary is how well I know you.
Maria: I think it’s sweet.
Dominic: No, what’s sweet is the way your arousal tastes.
Maria: I wish I could say the same thing about yours, but it’s more salty.
Dominic: I don’t know about you, but I’m extremely turned on at the moment.
Maria: Can I tell you something?
Dominic: You know you can.
Maria: I think your cock deserves a medal.
Dominic: My ego is being inflated.
Maria: Honestly, though. If I were to think about all the men I’ve been with and their cocks, yours is the hottest.
Maria: Just musings from my brain.
Dominic: Your musings are making me have a hard-on.
Maria: Sweet dreams?
Dominic: Not fair, Maria.
Maria: What do you propose I do to make it fair?
Dominic: Answer your phone.
My phone wasn’t. . . .
I stood corrected when my phone rang with a video call, and I went to answer it. Only, I didn’t. A text notification popped up on the top, and I couldn’t help but laugh, curling my toes in the sheet as I thought about how devious I was being.
Dominic: Answer your damn phone!
I didn’t make him wait any longer, moving to answer it. I tried—and failed miserably—to stop laughing. Even if laughter didn’t creep out, my eyes were filled with tears from trying to hold back, and my lips were smushed together so I didn’t outwardly laugh. Everything about my expression was a dead giveaway.
“You find this funny, don’t you?” he asked, holding the phone above him as he leaned back on his pillow, his hair damp like he just got out of a shower, and his face freshly shaved. Really, I was just trying to distract myself from his abs, which were on full display as he was without a shirt.
I nodded, smacking my lips and widening my eyes as I adjusted the phone so I was in the same position as him. It was much more comfortable than sitting up the way I had been doing. “You know me. I can’t tell a lie to save my life.”
“You’re not wrong,” he agreed. “Now about that proposal I had. . . do you remember when I was away for that shoot and we were both desperate and needy?”
I flicked a brow up and raked my teeth over my bottom lip. It was difficult to remember many of the times we’d been together, but that one wasn’t—it was definitely memorable. It was the closest I’d ever gotten to coming. He walked me through everything, and I imagined it was his cock filling me instead of my finger. The key? I had been close to coming. It still didn’t happen. At this point, I was ready to admit defeat, but he wasn’t, and I knew that. If we weren’t friends, though, I wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t have said to hell with you by now.
“Yeah, you remember,” he said, a cocky grin on his face.
Goose bumps crept over my skin, and my cheeks heated, my heart even racing. “Help me, Dom. Let’s try again.” I gripped the bottom of my shirt and sat up, taking it off and tossing it on the floor.
I wasn’t wearing a bra, so my breasts were on full display for him.
“Fuck. Me.” Dom’s words hit me straight to my core. “Your body is sensational.”
“Tell me what to do,” I said, knowing that his demanding side always made me wetter. His words turned me on like nothing before ever had. And I was really sick of thinking of myself as a broken woman. I wanted to orgasm. Everyone made it seem so easy, but then why couldn’t I do it?
“Is your bedroom door locked?”
I knew he was worried about Isabella walking in, but he had nothing to worry about. “She’s spending the night at Allie’s. She wanted to see Tipsy, and Allie offered, so. . . .” I said, hoping no more words were needed because I wanted him to get on with it already.
“Good. Take off the rest of your clothes and strip down to nothing. You should be completely bare. Remove the sheet, too. I want to see every inch of you, especially your wet pussy. How wet are you, Maria?”
I stripped, feeling a chill hit my crotch almost immediately. Unlike everywhere else where I felt like I was being cooked on high heat. I squirmed, maneuvering the phone in my hand and waiting for his next cue. “Now what?” I asked, watching his eyes, which were narrowed as they lowered to stare at my breasts.
He licked his lips, and I bet he wished he could suck my nipples into his mouth. I knew how much he enjoyed doing that. I wasn’t so much for foreplay, but he liked it, so I went with it. It wasn’t that I was opposed to it, but I wanted to get to the good stuff so I could orgasm. Potentially. Although, Dom had always insisted that foreplay could make me come, too, if I’d just relax and let it.
Relax. That was one word that was not in my vocabulary.
Plus side? He was the only man I’d been this relaxed with.
I was usually much more high-strung, if you could believe it.
“Spread your legs and sit the phone there so I can see exactly how you’re pleasuring yourself, okay? I want a front row seat to all of it. If I can’t hear your wetness as I slam into you over and over again, smell it, or even goddamn taste it, then I want to watch every move you make. I think you can do it, Maria. I think you can come, and I want to watch your arousal spill out of you and drip down your legs, making a mess on your bed.”
That was hot. Maybe I could do this. With my phone down there, I spoke up to make sure he could hear me. “Like this?” My legs were completely spread, my pussy throbbing as I brought my hand down there, ready to glide a finger inside.
He groaned, the sound reverberating off the walls. “I want to suck on your clit and eat that pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
“Do I need to spread my legs more? Am I in the right position? This would be a lot easier if you were actually here.” It wasn’t even like he was far. Just at his house. “You know what? Maybe this is a bad idea.”
“Maria.” His voice was stern and filled with warning. “Relax,” he commanded.
I hated that word. It was official. I despised it. Yeah, that was more like it. Didn’t people know the more you told someone to relax, the more they did the exact opposite? “I’ll try.”
“That’s all I’m asking for. Tease yourself.”
“What?”
“You can’t jump right in. Maybe teasing yourself would make you come. If I were there, I’d try it.”
“You annoy me.”
“Bullshit. Drag your hand up your inner thigh.”
I did.
“Place it closer to your pussy and begin running your hand down and up, circling the area.”
I did, my nipples becoming more taut as I grew wetter.
“Are you getting wetter?”
I nodded, rolling my lips. “Tell me what you’re doing. Maybe that’ll help.”
“Pick up the phone,” he hissed, showing me how he was gripping his cock. Damn it if that didn’t make me wetter. “Okay, put the phone back down by your pussy.”
I placed it where it had been before. “Now what?”
“I’m going to pump my cock as you finger yourself.”
“You mean, I can enter myself now?”
“Yes.”
I slid one finger in and began pumping, imagining it was his finger the entire time. I couldn’t imagine it being his cock because that was much larger than even three of my fingers. That would have been the ultimate disillusionment. “Ohhh,” I moaned, hoping this was going to do the trick.
“Add another finger,” he demanded, his voice cracking.
I added a second finger and continued pumping, closing my eyes and allowing myself to be free of my thoughts, responsibilities, everything. I wanted to be here, in this moment, to feel everything. “Dom,” I said, hearing the arousal on my fingers with each move.
Something was vibrating. Was that my vagina? Was my vagina vibrating? The phone rang, and I pulled my fingers out and grabbed the phone. “Someone’s calling,” I explained.
He looked like he wanted to answer, but then his face contorted, and a loud growl erupted from him. He was coming. Again. Without me. Great.
I rolled my eyes, hung up, and answered the phone. “Hey, Allie, is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah. I didn’t mean to alarm you. Isabella had a nightmare. She’s sleeping again, but I just wanted to let you know that she and Tipsy are just the best of friends. You need to get this girl a dog. She’d be over the frigging moon.”
I nodded, getting out of bed and picking up my pajamas. “Got it. Thanks.”
“No problem. Have a good night. We’ll see you tomorrow, sis.”
“Night.”
Dominic: I think you were close. What happened?
Maria: Allie called.
Dominic: Is everything okay?
Maria: Yes with Isabella. Not with me. I think I was close, too.
Dominic: That just means it’s going to happen.
Maria: From your mouth.
Maria: You might just want to give up on me.
Dominic: No chance.
Dominic: Night, Maria.
Maria: Good night, Dom.