Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ALYSSA
L ips is packed, but Dante assures me he called ahead and got us a VIP table by the stage. The walls and ceilings are an off-shade of beige, and pink and green lights swirl overhead. The chairs are red and look like they cost no more than twenty dollars a piece, but they aren’t the star attraction tonight.
“This looks promising,” Brynne says as security leads us to our table. There’s a menu on the top, and I grab it and peruse the drinks side.
“Yeah, it’ll be a crackin’ good time,” Lorenzo says, and I eye him with enough disdain to have him sitting straighter in his seat.
This is Brynne’s night. Before we left, these two got lectured that if they act up, they have Slate and Dante to deal with.
“Oh, there’s a stage,” Brynne says, utterly oblivious to the two morons across from us who are eyeballing the shit out of everyone who passes the table.
“Lyss?” Brynne says, her voice a bit sing-songy.
“Hm?”
“Why is there a stage?”
I grin, putting the menu back. “Oh, you’ll see.”
The waitress comes to our table and gives us the specials, and Lorenzo takes it upon himself to order a bottle of expensive whiskey and four glasses, telling her we don’t need food.
“Did you eat before coming here?” I ask Brynne.
She nods. “You?”
“I’m no fool. Remember that night at the Gator Tail when we didn’t eat and came straight from the beach? God, the hangover was fucking horrid.”
She groans, gripping her stomach as if its muscles remember all the retching we did the next day. “Yes. I was sick for two days! Never again.”
I giggle as the waitress brings the bottle and our glasses. Lorenzo tips her handsomely and pours us all two thumbs.
“I think we were sober for two weeks after that.”
She nods. “Oh, I know I was. I don’t know about you.”
Lorenzo makes a big, long speech in cheers, and Brynne and I eye one another, glasses high, ready to rattle before he finally finishes.
She looks at me. “I’m so glad to share this with you, Lyss.”
“I’m so grateful to be here, B.”
We clink our glasses before tapping the bottoms on the tabletop, chugging the whiskey down before slamming the glasses on the table.
Antonio and Lorenzo share a look and then shake their heads in unison.
“What?” I ask, eyes watering from the burn of alcohol.
“This isn’t college, and that’s not fireball. It’s meant to sip.”
Brynne laughs, wiping her lips. “Oh.”
“Yeah, that bottle cost five-hundred dollars, and you two just shot it like it was fucking Jack Daniel’s,” Antonio agrees.
I laugh, and they both eye me in annoyance. “Sorry. It’s just you two finally found something you agree on.”
Brynne joins the joke as the two men scowl, only making us laugh harder.
Suddenly, the lights dim, the spotlight comes on, and the curtain comes up.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Lips , where the drinks are stiff, and the dicks are stiffer,” the drag queen says as she waltzes out on stage.
“Now, Lillie, you know that’s not proper stage talk,” another queen says into her microphone from the front door.
Brynne and I watch the exchange diligently. Neither of us has been to a drag queen show, but I’ve always wanted to go.
“Oh, right. Silly me. What I meant to say is drink your stiff drink and enjoy the fucking show.”
Brynne and I look to Lillie, who rolls her eyes before lifting her microphone. “Better.”
“ Good Girl” by Christina Aguilera plays through the speakers, and I grasp Brynne’s hand under the table. Burlesque is one of our favorite comfort movies to watch together. We’ve seen it a thousand times over, so I know it’s going to be a good fucking night when the queen starts belting it out instead of lip-syncing like I’ve heard other shows do.
Brynne leans over, her lips hovering over my ear. “Thank you for this. You were right; I needed it.”
I smile big as the queen on stage shimmies her boobs, earning a whistle from Antonio.
He shrugs when Brynne and I look at him in shock. “What?”
We giggle as Lorenzo pours another drink, which we both sip instead of shooting.
Honestly, it’s been so long since I’ve had a drink. The first one is already traveling through my veins like liquid lightning.
One can only hope I don’t get myself into trouble tonight. I’ve been known to let inhibition drop a bit too far while drinking.
However, the longer we’re here, and the more we laugh, the further my walls drop.
I better keep my wits once I’m home, or Dante Ricci will storm his way right over the rubble while I’m unaware.
“Give me one margarita; I’m gonna open my legs,” Lorenzo sings along with the radio as Pauly drives us all home.
Brynne falls into my lap laughing, and I drop a chicken nugget into her mouth that we’d gotten from some drive-thru Pauly pulled into. He insisted that we’d all had far too much to drink and that Antonio and Lorenzo were in for a brutal awakening when they got up in the morning.
I’m thankful the wedding isn’t today, so we have twenty-four hours to recover. I know it’s going to be a cruel hangover.
“Keep going; I want to hear you sing the part about putting it in your tush!” Antonio spurs.
I nearly choke on my French fry as Brynne starts chuckling again.
“Yeah, Renzo, sing the part about your tush,” I add.
He looks at me from the front seat, winking as he tosses a fry over his shoulder.
“Just how much did you guys drink?” Pauly asks, swatting Lorenzo’s hand away as he drags a fry down his cheek.
“I don’t know. I’m getting married, though. I know that,” Brynne slurs.
Half of me is worried Slate’s going to beat my ass for bringing her back in such a state. I’ve got half a mind to tell Pauly to take me home first.
Dante said he and the guys were going out tonight for a bachelor thing, but it’s three a.m., and something tells me we stayed out later than they had.
“This was the best night ever,” Brynne adds.
“It was,” Antonio says, and I can’t help but laugh all over again.
“You two are the worst fucking guards ever!” Tears are rolling down my cheeks as I try to contain my giggles. I know my makeup is ruined, but I had so much fun tonight as reality bled away; I don’t give a shit.
“I agree on that front,” Pauly says, eyeing me in the rearview mirror.
“Sorry we kept you out so late, Pauly,” I tell him, trying to straighten my face.
Brynne pokes me from below. “Why do you look constipated?”
I break, and Pauly rolls his eyes in the mirror, flicking them back to the road as the SUV erupts in laughter again.
“Drunken idiots,” Pauly murmurs.
When we get to Slate’s apartment building, Pauly tells us to stay put, and he escorts her upstairs after she and I hug for what Pauly deemed an absurd amount of time.
I’m listening to Lorenzo and Antonio snore because once their food hit their bellies, they were out like two broken lights.
I know I shouldn’t, but I pull my phone out of my purse and unlock it. I have a longstanding rule not to use my phone while inebriated. I’ve done well all these years, too.
There are messages from Dante, and I don’t hesitate to open them.
I hope you’re having fun.
These men are boring compared to you.
Tesoro, it’s three in the morning; where are you?
Why are the men not answering their phones?
Do I need to send a firing squad to find you? So help me, little menace, I’ll do it.
Even though I shouldn’t, I grin at all his worry. No one’s ever cared where I was before besides Brynne. Usually, she’s beside me, though, so she doesn’t have to wonder where I am.
I try to type a reply message but can’t get my fingers to click the right buttons, which I take as a sign that I shouldn’t do it. I close my phone and rest my head back on the headrest as Pauly slides into the driver’s seat.
“Did she get inside okay?” I ask him.
He smiles in the rearview. “She did. Slate was waiting for her, and she’ll be looked after.”
I fake a smile. “I know. From here on out, she’ll be looked after.”
“He’s a good man,” Pauly says as if he surmised that my smile was a bit sad.
“I know he is. She’s lucky to have found him. They’re lucky to have found one another,” I correct. “I’ll just miss her. Not that she’s going anywhere…” I’m rambling, so I shut up and sigh.
Looking out the window, I watch the world move as Pauly heads for Dante’s apartment.
“I know what you mean, Ms. Alyssa.”
I don’t find his eyes in the mirror again because I know my own would water if I did. I don’t want to ruin this perfect night with tears. I’m so happy for Brynne, but I know I’ll be a bit more lonely without her beside me all the time.
Though, I’ll be beside her during the working hours, so there’s that.
Something aches deep within when a best friend gets married. It’s like they’ve found a new best friend, and you’re being replaced, even though that’s not logical.
I shake away from the thoughts as Pauly pulls into the parking garage.
“Will you walk me in, Pauly?” I ask him.
“Won’t be necessary, Ms. Alyssa.”
“Hm?” I look up at where Dante is in his sweatpants, pacing with his phone in his hand next to the elevator doors that lead into the building. When his eyes swing toward the SUV, they’re feral.
“On second thought, maybe I’ll stay with you, Pauly.”
Pauly only laughs, gets out, and opens my door. “Good night, Ms. Alyssa. Good luck.”
Gee, thanks, Pauly.
I stumble out, and the world spins as I walk toward Dante, my shoes in one hand and my bag in the other.
“You’re alright, then?”
I bite my lip, trying my damnedest not to follow the v-cut that leads down to his cock, which is sinfully bulging behind his pants.
“I’m alright. Sorry, I have a strict rule about using my phone while drunk.”
He tips my face up, my eyes tracking slowly back to his. “You think you could’ve told me about the rule before leaving?”
“I should’ve told you,” I whisper in agreement, not knowing who I am now.
“You should’ve,” he grumbles back, his eyes flickering down to my lips where my whiskey-scented breaths are shallowing.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Mmm…. We shared a bottle of Macallen, some old bottle.”
He runs his nose across the seam of my lips, breathing in. “Smells expensive. Wait, you all finished the bottle?”
I nod, hiccuping. “Well, Lorenzo and Antonio drank with us.”
“They’ll be dealt with,” he says, his tone filling with gravel and making my pussy throb.
“Oh, don’t. Lorenzo will never drink with me again, and I want to hear him sing the rest of the tush song.”
He startles, unable to hide his smirk. “Tomorrow, I’m going to ask what that means. Tonight, however, you need to get in bed.”
He leads me into the elevator, which isn’t as fun while drunk, and then helps me into the apartment. He tries to steer me towards the bed, and I reroute to the bathroom, unzipping my dress as I go.
My dress slides off, hitting the floor, and I then fidget out of my bra, tossing it into the hamper just inside the bathroom door.
“Alyssa, what are you doing?” His footsteps behind me are close, and a giddy thrum crawls up my spine like a spider coming home to see prey trapped in its web.
“I’m going to shower.”
“Like hell you are!” He grabs around my waist from behind, pulling me into his very hard cock.
“I never go to bed smelling like the bar.”
“You can barely speak. You don’t need to be in the shower.”
I rip out of his hold, turning as my nipples bead from the excitement and the cold. I tug off my panties, letting them fall to the floor as I let my hand slide down my belly toward my pussy.
“You can come in with me if you want to, but I’m getting into the shower to get clean.”
He licks his lower lip. “Doesn’t look to me like you’re getting clean.”
My fingers trace my clit, swirling a few times, and wetness warms me.
“What’s the verdict? You coming in or not?” I ask, dropping my hand away from my center and turning. I lean over, starting the water and pulling the curtain closed so the water doesn’t escape and make the marble slippery.
Dante is on me in two massive steps, turning me around so my back is near his front again. He grips my hair tightly in his fist and bends me over the side of the tub, where my hands grab to keep me steady.
“I should spank you for how you ignored my texts tonight.”
His tone’s a wicked note, and I want to reach out and touch it.
“I’m not sorry,” I tell him, and he tightens his grip on my hair. “I have rules, and I’ve followed them since long before I knew you existed, Dante. You won’t change me.”
He uses his fist in my hair to lift me straight against his chest.
His lips run the seam of my ear. “I’ve already changed you, tesoro. You just won’t let yourself acknowledge it yet.”
I open my mouth to give a rebuttal, but he turns us and pushes me toward the door as he lets my hair go. I tumble forward, catching myself before I fall to the floor.
“Dante!” I squeak, turning on him as he turns the water off.
I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m taking a shower.”
He shakes his head. “You’ll take a shower when I’ve gotten you dirty enough for one.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re excused,” he says, lifting me off my feet and tossing me over his shoulder.
“Dante! Put me down!”
“Alright,” he says, and I bob on his shoulder as he strides back into the bedroom. He tosses me onto the bed, and I bounce twice before stopping on my back.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I seethe.
He crawls onto the bed, and his eyes darken as he inches towards me. I grip the blankets and back up a bit.
“There’s a little menace driving me a bit insane recently. Other than that, I’m fine.”
“Dante, listen…” I plead.
He shakes his head. “Listening time is over, tesoro.”
Flipping me over, he holds me hostage to the mattress with one hand on my upper back as he smacks my ass.
Hard.
I scream, hoping someone will help me.
But by the third time he spanks me, I have my ass lifted off the bed, ready for the next one.
“Bad girls get spanked, tesoro. And you’ve been a bad fucking girl tonight, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathe, lust filling every fucking cavern in my lungs.