Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
KATERINA
T he white wine turns to vinegar in my mouth when Doctor Jenkins arrives at the table with the most miserable-looking woman I’ve ever seen. Even as he pulls the chair out for her, it’s painfully obvious that she’d rather be anywhere else than next to him. I can’t help thinking ‘girl, same’ and being thankful that Stefano swapped the place cards to ensure that I wouldn’t have to sit next to him.
It was a tiny gesture but one that has me running my hand along his thigh under the table and stifling a giggle when he grabs it to hold it still as he listens to Dylan waffle on about the funding he thinks he’s already managed to secure for the cardiology department. I sometimes wonder if he knows how mind-numbingly tedious he is. He’s got to know, right? No one can be this delusional. He proceeds to waffle on about fuck knows what for a full twenty minutes, not letting anyone get a word in edgeways.
Doctor Hendrix and his wife sit down opposite us, and I can see from the glower on his face, he’s about as happy to be on this table with Jenkins as I am. Oddly, despite our recent run-in over Enzo’s care, he’s the kind of obstinate asshat I can get behind. I have somewhat of a soft spot for him. He’s a prick, but he’s a highly skilled and no-nonsense prick. Nothing he does will ever be to inflate his ego; it will always be in the name of patient care. Also, he detests Doctor Jenkins with a fiery passion.
The table falls into a series of polite conversations that are swiftly quashed by Doctor Jenkins’ constant need to be the centre of attention. As he wanders off on yet another train of thought that should have been an internal monologue, I lean in close to Stefano and whisper, “Do you think he realises he hasn’t introduced his date yet?”
Stefano shakes his head before whispering back, “No, and I can’t even see her place card from here to pull her into the conversation.”
There’s a loud clank of cutlery as Doctor Jenkins drops them on his plate. “Sorry if my conversation isn’t engaging enough for you, Mr Tiero.” His voice is low and overflowing with the energy of a petulant child. The kind you know pulls wings off flies and burns ants with magnifying glasses. There isn’t a pair of eyes at the table that doesn’t roll at him in response.
“Not at all, Doctor Jenkins. I was just distracted by your date’s stunning bracelet.” Stefano responds, leaning forward, ignoring him, and offering his hand to the slightly startled-looking woman. I think she gave up on being acknowledged by her date half a glass of wine ago. “I’m Stefano, a pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh, thank you,” she says with a sheepish smile and a light blush dusting her cheeks. “It was my mother’s. Alison Carter, pleased to meet you.”
“How did you two meet?” I ask, desperate to encourage anyone other than Doctor Jenkins to speak but she clams up, and he launches into a long and uninteresting story about meeting at a medical equipment conference where he was a keynote speaker which he quickly devolves into yet more self-aggrandising bullshit. I throw an apologetic shrug her way and don’t miss the frustration she’s trying to hide. There’s not enough wine in the world to make this man palatable in a social setting.
Bless her, she makes it another twenty minutes and four attempts by other people at the table to get him to shut up before she gives up. She lasted longer than I would have put money on, but he barely notices when she excuses herself to the bathroom. He’s oblivious when she casts an apologetic nod my way and heads straight to the exit. There’s nothing I can do other than raise my glass to her.
“Hats off to the girl. She put up with him longer than I would have,” Stefano mumbles beside me.
I can see from the quirk of his lips Doctor Hendrix is fully aware that our sixth will not be returning, and I don’t miss the moment when he leans over and quietly informs his wife. From that point on, everyone bar Doctor Jenkins enters into an unspoken secret game, wondering how long it will take him to notice she’s not coming back. While I’m not usually one to relish other people’s misfortune, it can’t really be considered misfortune if the person in question is so oblivious to it.
Besides, the man is a twat.
How he hasn’t had complaints made against his atrocious bedside manner or unprofessional treatment of the staff under him I’ll never understand. I think the only reason I tolerate his behaviour is because I know if he really fucked me off, I could have him killed.
There are perks to being a capo’s daughter.
It becomes harder and harder for everyone at the table to keep a straight face. We’re barely holding it together when dessert arrives, and he finally notices the chair to his right is still empty.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to see what’s keeping…” he falters briefly, and I grit my teeth in disgust at his disinterest in his date.
“Alison,” I bite out, only slightly more pointedly than I intend to.
We all stare after him in disbelief. It’s only when he’s out of earshot that there’s a collective collapse of restraint and we burst into laughter. For the first time, I see Doctor Hendrix smile and as he’s wiping a small tear from his eye, he turns to his wife and says, “Vicki if I ever behave like that you have my permission to divorce me and take me for every penny.” He’s still smiling as he kisses her gently on the temple.
“Thanks, honey, but honestly, you’re worth more to me dead,” she says, barely able to contain her laughter.
“Twisty,” Stefano says with a laugh. “I like you two. Let me buy you a drink,” he adds, motioning to the bar. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not be here when he realises she ran out on him.”
Everyone is quick to agree, and we make our escape from the stuffiness of the formal dinner to hit the cocktails at the bar. Time flies and it’s a while before we notice we’ve missed the speeches, having been too engrossed in the hilarious story of how Vicki and Doctor Hendrix met—or Simon, as he insists I call him now.
We’re several martinis in at this point and now that we’ve escaped from the clutches of Doctor Boring, the evening is turning into one of the most enjoyable evenings I think I’ve ever had with my colleagues. Once the music starts, the dance floor soon fills up and Stefano drags me out to the floor.
I haven’t seen the man dance since Aurora’s wedding and that’s a damn shame. There’s something about the way he moves that’s always been a weakness of mine. He doesn’t just move his feet; there’s a fluidity to him that makes you want to meld yourself to his body. Exactly the way he’s dancing now.
Holding my palm against his chest with one hand and resting the other just above my hips, he’s commanding me around the floor, interrupting the steps only occasionally to unfurl me in a sensual spin, stealing my breath every time he draws me back and we collide together.
We might as well be here alone for all the awareness I have of my surroundings. Nothing exists outside of the magnetic gaze I’m trapped in. I couldn’t tell you how long we dance for, but as he twirls me around the floor, I lean into every touch and hope it lasts forever. At the end of the last song of the night, he says, “One day I’ll dance all night with you at our wedding.”
I’m speechless, but he doesn’t give me time to overthink his words and doesn’t let me ruin the moment with whatever flustered and nonsensical reply threatens to spill from my lips. He silences my thoughts with a kiss, and I let myself drift on a cloud of fantasies and half-baked dreams I never thought I’d experience.
There’s a gentle tap on my shoulder and I see that Simon and Vicki are calling it a night. I pull Vicki in for a hug but draw back to a handshake to say goodnight to Simon. He laughs, saying, “I get I haven’t been the easiest person to get to know at work, but I hope you’ll consider me a friend and not a colleague going forward.”
“Deal,” I reply, shaking his hand firmly and patting his arm. “When you have colleagues like Jenkins, it makes it hard to want to get to know anyone.”
“True,” he laughs. “Just don’t go spreading it around. The last thing I want is pricks like Jenkins thinking I’m approachable.”
“Don’t go selling me down the river either. It’s taken me years to convince everyone I’m a stone-cold bitch.”
“I got you. See you next shift,” he says with a grin, steering his slightly wobbly and entirely fabulous wife off the dance floor.
We’re encouraged off the dance floor by the waitstaff as they start clearing up—the universal sign for ‘you can fuck off now’ at a party. I really don’t want the evening to be over yet so taking Stefano’s hand in mine, I lead him towards a door at the back of the room, and after checking the coast is clear, I drag him with me into the maze of corridors.
We’re barely through the door when Stefano pushes me back against the wall, sliding his hand along the flare of my waist, around to the curve of my ass. His broad hand squeezes my cheek before moving forward to slip between the folds of the hip-level slit in the silk. He grasps my thigh firmly, hoisting it up, hooking my leg around his waist, and stepping into me, pressing the undeniably hard ridge of his cock against me.
With one hand holding firmly around his neck and shoulder, the other reaches for the tie that hangs nonchalantly around his open collar. I’ve been salivating over how sinfully hot he looks in a tux, but I think I prefer this slightly dishevelled and unrestrained version of him more. I snatch at the black satin, grasping a handful of his shirt with it and groaning when it pops open another button. The hint of salt and pepper hair reminds me of how the coarseness of his chest teases against my nipples when he pins me down and fucks me like he owns me.
“It’s been torture watching you in this dress all evening. Having to hold myself back every time I saw someone undress you with their eyes.”
“Have you been getting hot under the collar, vecchietto ?” I tease, pulling on the tie and kissing him with every ounce of passion he’s igniting within me. There’s no finesse to the way our lips clash and every frenzied roll of his tongue against mine lets me know he’s as desperate for me as I am for him.
Sparks of electricity jolt through my core as he pulls back the curtain of fabric and feathers his touch over my damp satin panties. I don’t bother to stifle the moan that he pulls from me as he finds my clit and taps it delicately. “How wet are you for me right now, baby girl? If I got on my knees for you, would you fall apart for me? Would it turn you on knowing that anyone could find us?”
What sort of questions are these? And how the hell does he expect me to form complete sentences when he’s pulling the soft fabric to the side and tracing my entrance in long, languid strokes? The juxtaposition of his soft touch and how tightly he’s pulled the lace edge of the panties against my clit has me rocking my hips against the glorious friction, ready to fall apart from simply riding his hand.
“Uh-uh-uh, Katerina. You come when I say you can come.” His command rumbles through me, demanding my submission and though I know I’ll plead for more, my body wants nothing more than to take what he gives, when he gives it.
“Please,” I beg, drawing out the word into a seemingly endless whimper as I scratch my nails along his neck.
I cry out at the loss of his touch, when he suddenly grabs both my wrists and pulls my arms down to my side, forcing my palms flat against the wall. “Keep them here or I’ll stop, and you won’t come at all.” I whine and his expression darkens, his pupils widening into dark pools that have me wanting to dive right into them. “Do I make myself clear?”
The authoritative tone in his voice vibrates against my skin where his lips graze my collarbone. It sends a tingle through me that travels straight to my core. I flex my fingers but my palms remain flat as I use every bit of restraint I have to keep them exactly where he’s placed them.
Resting his hand against my throat and flexing his grip against my rampaging pulse, he says, “Such a good girl when you want to be, aren’t you?”
He steals a kiss from my lips before releasing my jaw and sinking to his knees before me. I’m entranced as he wraps his hand around my ankle, stroking up slowly moving to cup the back of my calf. When he reaches my thigh, I let out a frantic moan, struggling to stop myself from knotting my fingers in his hair and demanding he bury his tongue in my aching pussy.
I’ll behave. I’ll be a good girl. Anything if it means I can watch him worship me on his knees where anyone can walk in on us.
He grips the back of my thigh and pulls my leg off the floor, resting it over his shoulder and I cry out when this leaves his hands free to grasp my panties and tear them free. There’s a bite of pain where the lace tightens across my hips, followed by complete bliss as he seals his mouth over my clit and buries two fingers in my pussy.
There’s no teasing preamble, just the instant pleasure of his insanely skilled tongue circling and his teeth nipping at the swollen bundle of nerves, while his thick digits fuck into me. The stretch is everything I need, and any hope of remaining quiet goes out the window when he curls his fingers, brushing against my G-spot.
The pace he sets is brutal, and exquisite, and transcendent. I don’t know whether it’s the fear of being caught, but something stops me from letting myself tumble off the edge. As if he knows my body better than I do, Stefano shifts the angle of his hand and alters the pressure of his tongue. The changes are minute, but it’s like he’s coercing my body into obeying his demands and won’t be denied.
My walls clench as my orgasm peaks, but instead of retreating, Stefano doubles down, sealing his lips tight and sucking as he thrusts against my swollen clit. It takes me by surprise, drawing a string of desperate pleas. “Fuck, I can’t take it. Holy fucking god.”
His free hand holds back the train of satin against the leg I still have firmly planted to the floor, allowing me to see the wicked expression on his face when he pulls back to say, “I’m not stopping till you soak my face and let me drink you down.”
He punctuates every other word with the brutal thrust of his fingers before diving back in and increasing the pressure of his tongue as it undulates against me. To say that I shatter would be an understatement. Debauched sounds reverberate off the stark hallway surfaces, amplifying them into a cacophony of sin. My groans synchronise with the unwavering rhythm of his thrusts. My body coils in on itself like a spring before releasing in one monumental crescendo.
It's impossible not to blush when my body gushes, coming straight into his eager mouth. I’ve never come so hard—or felt so untethered. Stefano sets my leg on the floor and stands, studying my expression with a mix of tenderness and awe. My cum glistens on his lips and it only adds to my bliss when he smiles back at me. His dimple showing just how much he enjoyed devouring me.
I’m desperate to have him come too, but he pulls my arms from the wall and wraps me in his tuxedo jacket before sweeping me off my feet. He kisses my temple, whispering praise like a prayer. “Such a good girl for me. Doing as you were told and letting me worship you.”
I gaze into his eyes, oblivious to anything other than the affection staring back at me. Nestling into his hold, I rest my head on his shoulder, letting out a contented sigh and closing my eyes. Just for a moment.