Chapter 37 – Amanda – The Past
My father’s severe expression looked like it had been carved from stone.
As he led us from the conference room where we’d met with the headmaster, the sounds of the prom vibrated along the corridor of the Ritz.
For a school dance, it was over the top.
Seemingly elegant. And tinged with the sins of spoilt, rich brats.
We entered the elevator, and when the doors closed to take us to the lobby, I risked a peek at my parent. He was furious.
“You embarrassed me tonight.”
I swallowed past the pulse in my throat. Hiding my swelling hand in the folds of my dress, I fought the urge to shrink into the other side of the lift. What else could I say to defend myself?
“These kinds of things need to be handled discreetly, not—” He gestured to me.
“There wasn’t time,” I blurted out before biting my tongue.
“Smooth your hair,” he snapped.
I did.
The doors opened to the lobby, and we crossed to the exit. Our town car waited at the curb. Only when we were safely behind the partitioned back seat, and the driver pulled away from the curb, did my father speak again.
“You’re lucky he was drinking. Otherwise, this would be entirely on you.”
I blinked hard. “Dad, he groped me.”
“That doesn’t matter!” His voice was low and stern. He wouldn’t risk the driver hearing through the closed hatch. “You could have been expelled for fighting.”
My date’s grandfather was willing to keep the incident quiet if we did. Society wouldn’t know. But somehow, in the twisted course of the night, this was all my fault.
The flip phone buzzed in my clutch, but I buried the bag under my thigh.
“Don’t let this happen again,” Dad warned.
It wasn’t my fault!
I went to my junior prom with an acceptable Blue Blood. I had a stylish yet modest dress. And yet I was the 11th grader who would be expelled because her date tried to assault her.
With a shaky breath, I pulled my spine up straight. Life wasn’t fair, and I had to play the cards it dealt me.
“I won’t,” I promised.
Dad seemed satisfied. He pulled out his Blackberry and began scrolling through emails. We were home in less than thirty minutes, and I was safe in my room seconds later.
I tore the gown from my body, not caring that it was haute couture and cost my stepmom a small fortune to have designed. A sickening sheen slithered over my skin. There wasn’t enough hot water in the city to wash it away.
Coming out of the shower, I crept to the bedroom door. No one had come to check on me. The incident was closed, and I was left to deal with the trauma.
Pulling on a black hoodie, joggers, and running shoes, I locked the door and crossed the room to slide open the window. Warm spring air rushed in to greet me. I’d snuck out enough times with my boyfriend—my best friend—to know how to scale the wall. Still, this was the first time I’d done it alone.
The night took on a different appearance when I was by myself. Without the dark knight to guide me, I traveled the length of the alley, constantly checking over my shoulder. Riding the midnight bus was just as scary, if not worse. Every glance from a stranger felt like it would cause a problem.
The moment I stepped onto Morelli turf, I took a deep breath. Gangs didn’t prey where mobs ruled. I was safe here—safer than anywhere else in Boston.
“Even my own school,” I muttered.
It took another ten minutes to jog from the bus stop to the quiet street where Mr. Messina and his boys lived. As I slipped into the backyard, I contemplated how I would get into the upper bedroom. There wasn’t a tree, and the siding was slick.
Creeping to the sliding glass door, I tested it.
Locked.
The lights were off inside. Mr. Messina would likely have a gun…if he was home. And I didn’t want to wake Cristiano. Going around to the detached garage, music, light, and life greeted me. A few of the neighborhood boys were working on the hotrod Cristiano had purchased. That meant….
I tried the side door. It swung open with a creak. Casting a careful glance over my shoulder, I slipped inside. The house was warm and smelled clean. Inviting. I hurried through the dark, picking my way carefully along, until I reached the bedroom.
The door opened, I breezed inside, closing it quickly.
Leaning back against the wood, I felt my pulse slow. I made it.
A light flicked on across the room.
Slapping a hand on my mouth, I squeaked in surprise. Black hair tousled in a mess, sleep wrinkling his face, Vincenzo softened from high alert to a satisfied grin.
“There you are,” he rumbled. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Sorry,” I muttered, sagging against the door. “Wait! What? You were asleep.”
“I texted.” He shifted to sit up against the headboard. “I called.”
“And I didn’t answer.” Sighing, I debated telling him the whole twisted tale. A selfish part of me wanted to confide in him. To have someone believe me that I was in the right for punching the trust fund asshat, since it happened in a back hall with no witnesses.
But I swallowed the story. If that hot, Italian blood spiked, this beast would stop at nothing to punish the other student. I couldn’t risk anything happening to Vincenzo, even if my date deserved it.
“You should have called,” Vincenzo chided gently. “I would have come to get you.”
I shrugged. “I’m a mobster, remember.”
He sighed and shook his head. “The bus isn’t safe during the day, let alone at night.”
“You’re right,” I admitted.
Damn, he looked good. Sleepy and sexy. He might be turning eighteen later this year, but he was on the border of man and boy. Seeing him like this, he still looked young.
Just like me.
We had our whole lives together, and I didn’t want it any other way.
“What are those?” I frowned and gestured. On the nightstand was a gorgeous bouquet of yellow tulips, still wrapped in brown paper as they sat in a glass mug of water.
“Those are for you,” Vincenzo murmured, noticing me staring. “I was going to bring them over, but you never said where you disappeared to.”
I hated this. Hated that I hadn’t gone to my junior prom with my boyfriend. I had to hide him for his own safety and play a chaotic chess game to keep our relationship secret.
Vincenzo crooked his elbow and lay down on it. Patting the empty space of the mattress, he invited me to join.
I did.
“I’m glad you came.” He kissed my forehead. “Just please let me make sure you’re safe, Mandy.”
“Next time,” I promised. Snuggling closer, I traced the graphics on his tee—some metal band. “How was your first private school prom?”
“I put in an appearance,” he murmured, smoothing a hand through my still damp hair.
“Yes, you did,” I chuckled, remembering how he’d put his tie around his head and capered with the jocks, all of them dancing like pagans in a sweaty, testosterone-filled mosh pit. “You looked like a dork.”
Vincenzo grinned and pressed his lips against my pulse. “I’m your dork.”
With a deep, satisfied sigh, I melted into his body. He wrapped me tighter, and we lay there for a few heartbeats.
But…I felt something.
It wasn’t the first time I noticed his arousal. Like any teenager, it had a habit of springing up whenever we made out. Vincenzo never made it obvious, though. Never pushed me to go further.
I want to.
Sliding my hands down his torso, I wriggled free of him enough to create space and…feel him.
“Mandy,” he hissed.
I shook my head. “Don’t stop me. I know what I’m doing.”
Vincenzo cupped my cheek. “You know your mind, fiore. But we’re not going to let tonight be the first time. Not sneaking in my childhood bedroom.”
Running my fingers lower, I felt the stiff length under his sweatpants. “I want you, Enzo. I don’t want to do this with anyone else. Ever.”
His thumb brushed over my lips. “And because we’re meant for each other, it’s my wish to make the first time special.”
I huffed. “I hate waiting.”
That only made him laugh. “La mia impaziente, bellissima ragazza.”
“Yes, I am impatient!” Jerking upright, I sat and moved to tug down his pants. “If you want to wait to go all the way, fine. But there’s something else we can do in the meantime.”
His cock sprang free. Seeing one in real life was…strange. Unlike the nasty pictures on the internet, his was a nice color. Asymmetrically pleasing to look at. And pretty darn big. I brushed the tip of my finger over it, suddenly self-conscious.
Vincenzo’s whole body shivered.
That seemed a good sign.
Remembering the details from the hours of research, I moved to settle between his legs. He rolled onto his back, tucked his arms behind his head, and watched. I might be prepared for the mechanics of the performance, but his steady gaze was unsettling.
It didn’t feel wrong. Oh, no! This was something I really wanted to do.
But it felt real. And kind of powerful.
I traced the same path with my tongue. The corresponding response in him sent a rush of heat flying through me. I closed my lips around him—and gave my first blow-job.
“Mandy, I—” Vincenzo jerked suddenly, reaching for me.
He wasn’t quick enough. And thank heavens for that.
Salty ropes shot down my throat. I didn’t gag, focusing on the fact that a part of him was inside me. I secretly loved that. This boy was my soulmate—for always.
Sitting up, I grinned down at him. “I licked it, it’s mine.”
It wasn’t the most sexy, mature thing to say, but it made him smile up at me like I’d just done the most incredible thing in the world.
“If that’s how we’re defining things…,” he said, words husky. Without another comment, he reared up, flipped me over, and pinned me beneath him. Clapping a hand over my lips to silence my squeal, he peppered kisses down my body.
It was his turn.
The first contact of his lips between my legs sent me bowing off the bed. Incredible pulses tingled through my body, until I was tight, one big knot. The release followed after in an explosion of bliss.
A pillow cut off the scream I didn’t know was escaping my lips.
As the pleasure ebbed, Vincenzo drew me into his body, and we kissed softly.
***
Too soon, I had to leave. Thank the lord we’d set an alarm. There was just enough time to whisk me across town and share one more kiss before the sun was up. Going through the backdoor, knowing that my future was my own and I had a boy who loved me, nothing else seemed to matter.
“Amanda.” My father’s snap cracked my spine straight. “What were you doing outside?”
Panic surged through my veins, threatening to overwhelm me. I looked around the kitchen for help. Dad’s gym bag gave me inspiration. “I was out for a jog.”
He bought the lie. “Jefferson reached out. They’ll have an opening at his firm for you this summer. We don’t want to pass this up; it’s an honor to be selected.”
It was. If I was serious about law school, which I was, this was a step in the right direction.
“I’ll take it, of course!” My smile went from forced to real.
“Good.” Dad walked over and handed me his bottle of electrolytes that he’d made for the gym. Taking my hand, he held it to the light. “How’s it feeling this morning?”
He cares! Delight simmered in my chest. “Not too bad.”
“You nailed him good,” he said with the smallest smile. “Don’t punch anymore sons of our friends. We can’t afford to lose face now.”
“I won’t. I’ll handle it better,” I insisted.
“I know you will. My girl always does the right thing.” With that, he gathered his gym bag and rolling suitcase. After his workout at the club, he would shower, change, and catch a flight from there to Belgium, where business threatened to keep him away for the next few weeks.
I ran and threw my arms around his back. “Thank you for helping me get the internship with Jefferson.”
He stiffened, then patted my arm. “It’s what we do for one another. I’m just glad I can help you kids succeed, since no one was there to help me.”
I wasn’t going to let him down. Not even a little.
Going upstairs, I debated sleeping for a few more hours but decided against it.
If I wanted to be the girl my dad hoped I would be, and if I wanted to keep my secret, forbidden relationship, I was going to have to work twice as hard.
Someday, when I was an adult, when I had a shining law degree and was working with some big firm, it wouldn’t matter who I dated—who I spent the rest of my life with.
But until I accomplished that future, there was no way Dad would accept anything less than perfect from his little girl.