Chapter 34
Chapter
Thirty-Four
Luna
A noise startles me, and I sit up in Vince’s pitch-black bedroom, disoriented.
“It’s me. Go back to sleep . ” Vince guides me back down.
“Are you okay? What time is it?”
“A little after midnight. I’m okay. Going to take a quick shower,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “Sleep.”
Ignoring his command, I wait until the water’s running before tiptoeing to the bathroom. Vince is seated on the shower bench, his head in his hands. Quietly, I open the shower door.
He looks up but doesn’t say anything as I fall to my knees on the tile floor between his legs. “You’re not okay.” I gently run my finger along the purple discoloration that begins at his stomach, continuing around to the side of his left ribcage.
He watches me, his expression guarded. Which is bullshit. Beneath the stoic facade, he’s in pain. And not just physical pain .
No one’s ever taken care of this man in his entire life. With that realization, I quietly tell him, “You don’t have to be okay all the time.”
I rise, grabbing the shampoo bottle and squirting some in my palm. Rubbing my hands together, I wedge myself between his legs. Working the lather into his hair, I gently rake my nails against his scalp as he silently watches me. “Close your eyes,” I tell him, grabbing the detachable spray and rinsing his hair.
Moving the spray back into place, I grab the bar of soap and a rag from the hook, lathering it up. I cover his gruesome tattoo in suds. He allows me to move his arm, and I get the underside before switching to his left arm.
I silently wash his back. His chest. His stomach, being ever so careful not to cause him more pain.
Falling to my knees again, I wash his left leg down to his foot, moving over to his right.
Vince is hard, but I ignore his erection as I continue gently washing him from head to toe; I’m saving the best for last.
Locking eyes with him, I toss the rag as I stand and lather my hands with the bar of soap, falling to my knees as I wrap them around his dick, sliding them up and down.
“Luna?” Vince says in a pained tone.
“Is this too much? Do you want me to stop?” I pause.
“I want you to put your bikini on, and come right back,” he commands, his voice strained.
No clue why he wants me to do that, but I nod as I hurry out of the shower, leaving a trail of water as I run to my room and put on my string bikini.
“Is this what you want, Daddy?” I ask, joining him under the spray.
He takes in my body, his eye lingering over my hard nipples plastered to the wet bikini fabric. “This is exactly what I want. You’re exactly what I want,” he says reverently, and I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. “On your knees.”
I don’t hesitate, falling to my knees.
“Did you know I had this exact fantasy? After you got your tattoo, and I saw you in this illegal bikini, I had to jerk my dick in the shower—imagining I was fucking your throat.”
“I was listening,” I admit, my checks flushing. “I heard you call my name.”
A ghost of a smile spreads across his lips. “Naughty girl.”
“And then I ran to my room and touched myself.”
He groans, his head hitting the back of the tile, and I open wide, swallowing his dick all the way from tip to root.
“Christ, Luna. You really are going to kill me,” he garbles.
I look up at him with his dick in my mouth, smiling around his length.
He smiles back at me. “But what a fucking way to go.”
Luna
“ Now will you tell me why we’re at the airport?”
“I have two surprises for you,” Vince says as we pull onto the tarmac next to a private jet.
“Oh my God, are we flying on that?”
He hops out and comes to my side, opening my door for me. “First surprise: we’re going to Italy to convince Grandmaster Bruno D’Agostino to be your coach.”
I squeal, throwing my arms around Vince’s neck.
He grunts.
“Sorry.” I drop my arms, remembering the man had the shit beaten out of him yesterday.
“I’m afraid to tell you surprise two,” he teases.
“Tell me,” I beg as we walk up the stairs, entering the jet.
The captain greets us, and a flight attendant escorts us to the seating area. I bounce excitedly in my chair, taking it all in. I’ve never flown coach before, let alone a private jet.
“What can I get you to drink?” The flight attendant asks me.
“Soda.”
“Get us both waters.” Vince overrules me, and the woman nods, disappearing to the back.
“You can’t go longer than five minutes,” I gripe.
“I don’t want you getting dehydrated on the flight. Now, do you want to hear about the second surprise?”
“Of course I do!”
Vince flashes a mischievous grin.
“I swear to God if you don’t tell me?—”
“You’re getting a chess club in AC.”
“What?” I gasp, grabbing onto his wrist.
“Fuck the Chess Hall. I’ve got the financial backer, and your club is going to be bigger and better.”
I squeal again, but stop myself from hugging him. “Really?”
Vince nods. “It’s in the works as we speak. All the club needs is a name. I’ll let you do the honors.”
“A name.” I consider for a moment. “Madhouse Chess Club.”
“What does that mean?” Vince asks.
“One of the most famous grandmasters in history, Bobby Fischer, was a complete misogynist. He’s quoted saying that women shouldn’t be allowed in chess clubs; that the club would become a ‘madhouse.’ It will be a big middle finger to him, and current players who feel the same way.”
“Like Brit Boy?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
His lips curve into a devious smile. “Madhouse Chess Club it is.”