Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Elio
“I’m beginning to think your uncle was right about you having a death wish.”
“Are you going to let me in?”
Michel stepped back and let me cross the threshold into the foyer of his townhouse.
In a surprise to no one, everything was understated elegance and lined up with military precision, the parquet floor gleaming in a way that felt almost mocking.
I looked like shit, and this time I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself.
“Move so I can shut the door before anyone sees you.”
I stepped farther into the foyer before turning around, catching a quick glimpse of his expression before he schooled it back into the neutrality he always wore around me.
Michel was perfect and had been for as long as I’d been aware of him.
He was always pressed and tidy, his dark-brown hair styled to perfection and his manicured hands as elegant as the rest of him.
His hazel eyes, more brown than green, flashed with anger.
Ugh, everything about him was refined and controlled and sexy in an unattainable way that made it worse, not better.
“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” I said as I stepped forward and trailed my fingers down the front of his shirt.
Michel’s chest stopped moving, and for a split second, I saw the crack in his composure. I had never actually seen him react to me before. The idea that Michel Laurant might have noticed me at all made my own lungs cease to function. That possibility was too surreal to sit with for long.
“I’m not fucking happy to see you because if you’re here, it means you’ve fucked up again. What is the matter with you?”
The disgust in his voice sent me back on my heels.
“So I should just let people get away with shit? Is that what you think? Because I’m too goddamn weak to stand against them?”
“If your ass gets killed, it’s not going to make a difference. Why did you do it this time?”
“Jesus Christ, it’s not even that important.”
When I clammed up, Michel gave me one of his patented stares that made me feel like a little kid again. Unfortunately, I knew he wouldn’t let it go until he uncovered the truth.
“One of Matteo’s employees was being shitty.”
Michel went still in a way that made the air feel heavier, like the words had settled into the room and refused to move.
I had never discussed my uncle’s business with anyone outside the family, but Michel was the one who stitched everyone up when things went wrong, so he obviously had more than an inkling of what actually went on.
“What did you say?”
The shock in his voice made sense, but I didn’t like it. I wasn’t a child, and I wasn’t helpless, and I wasn’t as useless as the family treated me.
“You heard me. He was going too far, and I stepped in.”
“Does your uncle know?”
“Pretty sure Sam isn’t going to mention it to him,” I snorted.
Michel looked at me the way the rest of them did when they thought I’d overstepped, like I was some wayward kid who didn’t understand the rules of a game I’d grown up studying my entire life.
They all acted like I didn’t know what they were doing, like I was too soft or too naive to understand it.
But it pissed me off more when Michel did it because I didn’t fucking deserve that look from him.
A real job with the family wasn’t an option because Matteo refused to let me join.
Instead, I got pushed to the fringes, expected to stay out of the way, completely useless within my own family, while everyone around me alternated between pity and disgust. Then, when someone was clearly stepping out of line, I was expected to step back and let it happen.
A Ricci wasn’t a Leone, and every damn day, I got a reminder of it.
But seeing Michel look at me the same way as the rest of them was too fucking much. Between pity and disgust, I’d take the second option every time. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I forced myself to meet his eyes. Abject pity stared back at me.
“Never mind. I’m fine.”
I tried to force myself around him and let myself out the door.
The crushing ache in my chest made it hard to breathe.
If I could run away and never see a damn one of them again, I would.
Even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew I was lying to myself.
The family might not want me, but I’d never walk away from them.
“Stop!”
Michel’s voice thundered in the tight room, and I stopped instantly.
“You’re not going anywhere except my study. Follow me.”
He locked the door behind him before grabbing my uninjured hand and dragging me into one of the rooms toward the back. Once I was inside, he slammed the door shut and barred it with his body.
“If you wanted me alone, all you had to do was say so,” I drawled.
He narrowed his eyes but stayed quiet. I saw the gears turning behind them. Normally, they were calm, but today, they flashed with a fury that was wholly directed at me.
“What the fuck did you do to yourself tonight?” He paused and added, “Knock off the flirting, or I’ll call your uncle right now.”
Well, shit. I wasn’t ready for the conversation I knew I couldn’t avoid with Matteo, so I might as well answer and delay it a little while longer.
“You mean, besides the split eyebrow?”
The look of shock on his face almost made me chuckle. Almost. The dawning realization of horror that overtook his expression forced the laugh out of me anyway.
“Oh my God, did you not even notice?”
“Shut up.”
“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” I drawled.
At some point in the last sixty seconds, we’d orbited closer to each other.
I found myself standing directly in front of Michel, his back to the door because he hadn’t moved an inch since we’d come into the room.
My eyebrow was fine. Medical care wasn’t needed beyond some antiseptic, and we both knew it.
What I needed and wanted was him.
I needed his steadiness, his calmness, maybe even a little of his judgment because it always came wrapped in enough concern that I willingly overlooked that he thought I was an idiot most of the time.
I just wanted to be near him, and I didn’t know how else to say that.
Even admitting it to myself made me feel foolish.
There was no goddamn way this was going anywhere, even if I wanted it to.
Even if he wanted it to. Michel and Matteo had been friends for years, and I doubted he was going to jeopardize that friendship or their business arrangements over the family non-entity.
But right now, he was a breath away from me.
His chest heaved inches away from mine, and the effort not to touch him was monumental.
I wasn’t entirely sure if I was grateful or not when I heard the persistent vibration of his phone in his pocket.
“What?” Michel snarled into his phone. He hadn’t even bothered to look who it was. “Shit. Yeah, he’s still here.”
I closed my eyes and willed the phone to go dead.
“Teo, I know. Yeah, I’ll clean him up, but no promises on talking sense into him.”
The silence after Michel clicked off the call was a lead weight over us both.
“Now what?” I asked because I wasn’t ready to leave his presence. I’d been studying him for years.
His breaking point was near, and I knew it.
I just needed to push him a little further, and then maybe I’d get exactly what I had always wanted from him.
Given that Matteo was calling him away, I knew I wasn’t going to have another shot anytime soon because the minute we were out of this room, the real world would be back.
And that was the world that said I was unimportant to them and he was vital.
He patched them up. He protected them. He saved them.
I was the inconvenience who bothered them.
And I was going to shoot my shot and let the shrapnel land where it did.
“Christ, Elio, what are you doing?” Michel ground out.
Rather than answer, I let my hands drop to his belt buckle and decisively pulled the leather free, unhooking it in one smooth motion.
His cock was already hard, and more importantly, directly in front of my mouth.
I pushed the waistband aside and shoved his shirt up out of the way.
There he stood, straining against his briefs, the musky scent of his precum almost overwhelming me.
My mouth watered in anticipation because this had been years in the making.
“Elio, this is a bad idea.”
“I know.”
Michel hadn’t told me no, though, and that was all that mattered.
I looked up through my eyelashes from my vantage point on my knees in front of him. He stared down at me with conflicted eyes while harsh frown lines bracketed his mouth. But the want was there and evident, and it made the risk worth it. In fact, nothing else mattered to me.
But I needed him to give me permission.
Not once did I look away. Whether he accepted or rejected my unspoken offer, he’d do it with a clear view of what I wanted.
And that was him.
Always him.
“Pull out my cock.”
Relief, mixed with desperate need, coursed through me.
His words were what I’d hoped to hear and I moved before he changed his mind.
I slipped my hands under the waistband of his briefs, pushing the fabric of his pants out of the way and pulling out his beautiful dick.
The head glistened with precum, and I couldn’t stop myself from taking a quick lick across the top.
Michel’s groan was immediate, and I returned for one more forbidden taste.
I slipped him into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the head before finding that little cluster of nerves just beneath the rim.
My hand slid lower so I could cup his balls while I continued to taste him, and he fed me more of his cock as I eagerly took him down.
There wasn’t a lot of finesse. Just need.
Drool leaked from my mouth as I focused on giving him a blowjob he’d never forget.