24
Sebastiano
When I glance at the clock on the nightstand and realize the time, it looks like another day is damn near gone. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I swing my legs off the bed and head towards the shower to get up and get ready.
Stepping out of the shower, I let the steam trapped in the bathroom envelope me. The heat seeps into my muscles, loosening the knots of tension that have increased over the last few weeks. I grab the plush towel from the rack to dry off before getting dressed in black pants and a white button-down. I button up the shirt before rolling the sleeves to my elbows.
When I get to the bottom step, I hear a voice that has started to bug the shit out of me, a voice that has become a frequent guest in my home the past few weeks. Nico’s here again, and of course, he’s laughing like a damn hyena with la piccola ballerina.
Watching them together, sharing some stupid joke or whatever, only fuels the fire of irritation burning within me. Gritting my teeth, I force myself to maintain a neutral expression as I approach them. The last thing I need is to let Nico see how much he”s getting under my skin. But inside, I”m seething, counting down the seconds for this prick to leave, which is always right after I walk into the room.
“Hey, Cuz,” the bastard says. I give him a single nod, but I”m not gonna entertain his shit.
“Looks like I should get going. Thanks for today, Mia.”
“No need to thank me. It was good to have you come along,” Mia replies.
What the fuck did I miss today, and why does it feel like I’m a guest in my own fucking house?
Turning to look at la piccola ballerina, who looks as good as she always does, she meets my gaze with a smile on her face. But all I can picture is her naked and moaning on the gym floor yesterday while I ate her pussy.
“What the fuck did I miss today? Seems like you two are best friends now.” I can”t help the bitter tone, but this shit annoys the hell out of me. Maybe I”m bitter because of the blue balls I”ve had all week, or maybe it”s the fucked-up night that”s still replaying in my mind.
”We”re not best friends,” she says playfully, slapping my bicep. ”We ran into each other at Padrino’s this afternoon.”
My jaw tightens as I wait for her to continue, questions flooding my mind about how her so-called run-in with him ended with him being here.
As if she can read my inner turmoil, she continues. ”Originally, I ordered a pickup, but he asked that I stay and join him, so I did,” she explains. ”Then he tagged along while I ran a few errands.”
The fire inside me rages with each word that spills from her plush pink lips. Why the hell is she gallivanting all over town without any damn guards, with only Nico? And I call bullshit on the idea that she just happened to run into that prick by chance at Padrino’s.
The urge to lash out and confront her about her reckless behavior is coming close to erupting, but I swallow it down and, in the gentlest way I can, ask, “Did you go out alone? No guards? You know the rules. And what errands do you have to do?” I bark, firing off question after question before she can even answer the first one.
But she’s ready for me when her response floods out. “Not alone. Yusuf drove, and Daren was there, too. Yes, I know the rules—please refer back to answers one and two. And I’ll show you,” she says, putting one hand on her hip with a shy smirk on her lips.
She’s being a smartass with that sass, but I”m impressed and a little turned on by her response. I”m happier that she had my men with her. Adding a mental reminder to speak to those two fuckers later on.
“Show me?” I ask, feeling my dick punch my zipper at the thought of what she has to show me. Hopefully, it’s seeing her naked. Images of her underneath me flood my mind.
She breaks the dirty thoughts in my mind as her tiny hand clasps into my large one, leading me outside to the garden. ”Yes, I”ll show you. Let”s go.”
We walk out into the gardens, still hand in hand, confused and curious about this whole situation. It feels intimate, but I think I like it. I’ve never been one for holding hands or any type of romantic shit, but this isn’t so bad.
We make our way further out into the center of the garden, and I stop dead in my tracks, tugging her arm slightly at my abrupt pause.
Mia notices my hesitation and turns to me. “It was such a beautiful day today. I thought we could have dinner out here.” The smile she gives me almost warms my cold, dead heart. She gestures to the small table set up with two place settings and a vase of freshly cut flowers in the center.
“While eating lunch at Padrino’s, Nico mentioned that you didn’t like the food there. That you would only eat from Marcos.”
She did this for me? Well, damn!
Sensing my surprise, la piccola ballerina continues speaking. “I’ve never eaten there, and since it was your favorite, and I knew you”d be awake for dinner, I placed an order and gave Marie and Roman the night off. They seem like they could use a night off. I hope that”s ok?” she asks.
Damn! She leaves me speechless, so I simply nod in acknowledgment as I observe the scene before me.
It still doesn’t explain her errands, but I”ll let that slide for now and take my seat. She hands me a bottle of wine and jumps up quickly. “The food just got here, but I placed it in the oven so it would stay warm. If you can open the wine, I’ll go grab the food.” She doesn”t give me a chance to respond before she takes off toward the house. Mia is back seconds later with a large paper bag in her hands.
Did she run? She’s fast!
There’s a breeze in the air, the smell of flowers drifting around us until Mia starts pulling out the containers of food. Then I”m hit with the scent of garlic and tomatoes as she opens the first container containing my favorite appetizer. She places two warm slices of grilled bread on my plate before spooning the bruschetta mixture on top.
Opening another container, she plates the Gnocchi alla Romana with saltimbocca. My mouth salivates at the dish before me as I pour both of us a glass of wine.
Did Nico tell her my favorites? I’m not even sure he would know what they are.
La piccola ballerinaplates a small portion on her plate. Her portion isn”t large, especially not like mine, but it”s definitely bigger than the portions from before.
Mia doesn”t hesitate to dig in, letting out a small moan of approval when the gnocchi hits her mouth.
“I can see why this is your favorite. It’s delicious,” she hums before going in for a second bite.
She’s only missing the Torta Caprese for dessert, and from the looks of how she crumples the bag after plating the food, I”d say it”s not in there.
“So much better than Padrino’s,” I tell her as I pop the bruschetta in my mouth.
“How did you know what to get?” I finally ask, looking up at her as she shuts the dishwasher. She hesitates for a second, a slight blush coating her cheeks. I give her a sly smirk, loving how bashful she”s getting as I lean against the counter.
“Well, Nico told me about Marcos while we were at lunch. And on the way home, I bugged Daren enough, and he told me what you always get. And the bruschetta because it’s my favorite appetizer,” she provides, unaware that bruschetta is also my favorite.
“Thank you.” I want to say more but don”t.
“They were out of the chocolate thing you like, or I would have gotten that as well,” she says as she walks to the refrigerator. “So, I made you one, instead,” she adds, turning with a Torta Caprese in hand.
Damn, did la piccola ballerina bake this just for me?It looks almost like the one at Marcos. “You made this? For me?” I nearly stutter out.
“I did. I googled a recipe and asked Yusuf to bring me to the store. When I was getting ready to leave, Nico popped in. I told him I was leaving, and he insisted on joining. And don”t worry, Daren was there too.”
Relief floods me, knowing that Nico invited himself—both times, from lunch to errands with Mia. I’m not sure why the thought of Mia inviting him gets to me, but it just does.
”Who knew you could bake?” I quip, trying to lighten the atmosphere despite the strange emotions swirling inside me, emotions I”m not quite sure how to handle.
“That’s still to be determined. I”ve never baked before, so I hope I don”t kill you with this.” She chuckles while plating the dessert.
Fuck, that laugh has my dick ready to spring free from my pants. I don”t even care if she borderline poisons me tonight.
The sun has set, so we decide to stay in and eat our dessert at the kitchen island. With each bite, I find myself unable to resist going back for more until my plate is empty. Then, shamelessly, I go back for a second piece. It”s not just about the taste but the effort and thoughtfulness that went into making it.
I follow Mia to the sink, watching her like a lion creeping on his prey. As she reaches for the dishwasher, I close the distance between us, standing close behind her. Suddenly, she turns around, startled by my close presence, and her hands instantly find their way to my chest.
Without a thought, I grab her by the waist and lift her effortlessly onto the counter, her surprised yelp turning into a soft gasp. Our eyes lock, and in that moment, all hesitation fades away. Leaning in, I capture her lips with mine, feeling the warmth of her mouth against mine.
Her lips are soft and inviting, and as she responds eagerly to my kiss, I deepen it, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. A soft moan escapes her lips, driving me further into the moment. I feel her hands move to the back of my neck, pulling me closer and allowing my tongue to explore her mouth.
My hands roam over her body, finding their way to her ass, pulling her closer to the edge of the counter. Heat radiates from her body as she presses against me, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer.
My dick is rock hard, ready to break through my zipper. I position her so she can feel what she does to me, making her gasp in my mouth. It takes every ounce of restraint I possess not to tear her clothes off and fuck her right here and now, but I know she”s not ready for that yet.
Instead, I break the intense kiss, trailing small kisses down her neck before I move my head back slightly to admire her swollen lips and flushed cheeks. Then, I lean in once more, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
Ring Ring.
The ring from my phone interrupts our brief moment. I reluctantly let go of Mia and reach into my pocket, finding Enzo”s name flashing on the screen.
”I have to take this,” I say, shooting her an emotionless glance before stepping away from the kitchen. She watches me, confusion etching across her face as I make my way to my office.
“What did you find?” I ask in a way of greeting.