Chapter Twenty-Two
Tristan
“Kids,” I bellow into the intercom service that connects the different levels and wings of the house. “Dinner’s ready.”
No answer comes through the line, but I hear the movement of bodies and the shuffling of feet as the children make their way down towards the kitchen.
Kiza appears first. She walks up to me where I’m standing at the stove and wraps her arms around my waist, burrowing her face into my back.
“Hi, Dad,” she says, voice muffled against me.
Earlier this year, she started calling me ‘Dad’ instead of ‘Daddy’, telling me that only kids called their fathers that and proudly announcing that she wasn’t a kid anymore.
Plunging a knife six inches deep into my chest might have been less painful, but I’d simply smiled, said ‘okay’, and kissed her forehead.
It felt like my little girl grew up overnight. Even though I knew it was a natural part of her getting older, I feared it meant that we’d lose the special connection that had always made us close.
I was thrilled to find nothing else changed, her hugs the moment I come home still as tight as they always were. Those hugs mean the world to me.
“Hi, sweet girl.” I turn and drop a kiss on her forehead. “How was your day?”
“Great.” She grabs one of the plates and brings it to the dining table as Cato walks in carrying Hana.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, little man. Missed you.” I ruffle his hair then bend so I’m eye level with my youngest child. “And missed you , little darling.”
Hana launches herself into my arms with a delighted laugh. I press a thousand kisses to her cheeks, then place her on my hip and go back to the stove, stirring the bacon so it doesn’t burn.
Plating two more sandwiches, I hand them to Cato who follows Kiza into the dining room.
Suki and Juno walk in together, bickering loudly and the latter in tears.
“What’s wrong, bud?”
“S-she t-took my caaar,” he stutters through thick sobs, pointing an accusing finger.
“It’s my car.”
“No, it’s not!” he roars, hitting her arm.
Just last month, we opened a new restaurant in Florence. I’d handled the entire process remotely, from design to build to the opening, pushing off having to travel there as much as possible since I didn’t want to be separated from my family.
I finally had to make a trip out for an investors’ meeting and had kept the visit short, only spending one night — last night — away from my wife and kids.
As always, it’d felt like an eternity.
Being back in the chaos of a full house of five bickering kids might be overwhelming to some — if not most — but it’s heaven to me.
“Su, give your brother back his toy. You can have it after dinner. Juno, don’t hit your sister.”
“Not fair, Daddy,” she pouts, handing him the toy anyway.
“You’ll get your turn.” I set Hana down and place her hand in Juno’s. “Take your sister to the table please.”
He leaves and I crouch in front of Suki who turns her head away. I love my children equally but there’s something about my middle daughter; she has me completely wrapped around her little finger.
It might have to do with the five beauty marks on her nose and cheeks, the exact same ones that dust Nera’s face. Like with her mother before her, I’m powerless to resist them.
“Su,” I coax.
I smile when she refuses to look at me. Stubborn, that one. Gets it from her mother.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a Bacci chocolate and hide it in one of my fists. Holding them both up in front of her, I say, “Pick one.”
Unable to resist the prospect of a present, she glances at my hands, then taps my left fist. I turn it over and spread out my fingers, revealing the chocolate snuggly held in my palm.
She grabs it with greedy fingers and throws her arms around my neck. “Thanks, Daddy!”
I wrap her in a big hug. “Missed you, lovebug.”
“Me too,” she answers, cheek against my chest.
“Grab your plate and go sit down. I’ll be right there.”
“Okay,” she answers happily, storing the chocolate in her pocket for later.
I turn off the stove and finish plating the last two sandwiches, then head into the dining room where I find my kids and my wife sitting around the table, waiting for me.
“Eat, eat,” I order. “It’s better warm.” I place a plate in front of Nera and bend to capture her lips. “Dinner for my beautiful wife.”
She cups my neck, her dark eyes shining as she looks up at me. “Thank you, baby.”
“I made us something special tonight. I wonder if you’ll remember it.”
She glances down at the plate and her hand tightens on me. Her gaze flicks back up to mine. “Is this the BLT you made me when we were first dating?”
I nod, humming, and add, “Technically we weren’t dating yet. Mummy made me work for it, kiddos,” I say to them as they look on at us, biting silently into their sandwiches. “Daddy suffered. Girls, take notes.”
Cato and Kiza, who are both old enough to start asking difficult questions look at each other and then the latter asks, “How did you meet?”
“Um…”
“Uhhhh,” I say, laughing uncomfortably as I meet Nera’s panicked eyes. Bending so my next words are whispered against the shell of her ear, I add, “I guess we haven’t discussed how we answer that question.”
“I didn’t even think about the fact that it would come up one day,” she whispers back. “We can’t tell them I slept with my professor.”
“Or that I slept with my student. They’ll think you’re a daredevil, but they’ll think I’m a predator.”
She chews her lower lip, pulling my attention from the issue at hand and to her very delectable mouth. I imagine those very same lips wrapped around my cock tonight once the kids are in bed. I imagine them parted in pleasure as I sink into h—
She snaps her fingers, her eyes widening. “We met in a bar,” she offers in a whisper. “Technically not a lie, right?”
“Brilliant. Aligned.”
Nera turns towards Kiza and gives her the same answer. Thankfully, our daughter only nods thoughtfully and takes another bite of her sandwich.
I’m about to breathe a sigh of relief and sit down, when Cato speaks next.
“Daddy, what’s a MILF?”
Silence descends on the room. I freeze, certain that I’ve misheard him. Nera’s eyes bulge, her hand flying to her mouth.
Turning my head slowly towards my eldest, I try to keep a rein on the disbelief coursing through me.
“I beg your pardon?”
“What’s a MILF?” he repeats, seemingly unaware of how my eyelid twitches.
I’d rather face a hundred more questions about how his mother and I met and started dating than wondering for a moment longer about why Cato knows the existence of the word MILF.
He can only have heard it spoken in one context and that context makes me want to put my fist through a wall.
“Where did you hear that word?”
Nera’s hand tightens around mine, squeezing my palm to settle me down when she hears my throttled tone.
“Stephen’s older brother Justin said it at school the other day. When Mum came to pick us up, he said a bad word and then he said she was a ‘Hall of Fame-worthy MILF’.” He frowns and scrunches his nose, his expression confused. “What is that? Does that mean she’s on time for pickup? Because his mum wasn’t there yet.”
Beside me, I hear Nera choke back a laugh.
A vein throbs dangerously in my temple, my heartbeat strangled within its walls. It feels so close to bursting that I have to take deep, steadying breaths to keep from passing out.
My fist closes tightly around the back of Nera’s chair. The wood screams its distress in response.
“Tell me,” I ask, my tone pleasant. “Where does Justin live?”
Correctly interpreting my underlying tone, Nera places a hand on my forearm. “Tristan, no.”
The thought that some thirteen-year-old ogled my wife and called her a Hall of Fame-worthy MILF to his friends, to my son , makes me want to reinstate the lost art of drawing and quartering people in public.
“Can you get me his address, Cato?”
“Sure, I mean, it’s where Stephen lives. So, 97 Stu—”
Nera interjects, speaking over him so I miss the street name. “That’s great, darling, thank you. Tristan, a word in the kitchen?”
She stands, forcing me to release my grip on her chair to let her pass, and walks back to the kitchen.
“Keep eating,” I instruct, following after her.
I’m on her before she’s even fully turned around, a surprised gasp ripping from her lips. Trapping her against the island, I bury my face in her neck and suck at her throat like a vampire.
She moans loudly, then slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. “What are you doing?” she whispers distractedly.
I maul her like an animal, capturing the skin between my lips and suckling at it.
“Not only are the fathers at school ogling you, but now so are their preteen boys?” I mutter angrily against her neck. “That’s fucking bullshit.”
Nera cups the back of my neck, shoving my face deeper into her throat instead of pushing me away. “I think it’s a compliment.”
“It means Mum I’d Like to Fuck,” I churn out.
“Y-yes,” she breathes.
“I’m the only one who fucks you. The only one who should even think about fucking you.”
Not a question, not even a demand. Just a fact.
She knows it so she doesn’t answer.
I suck and bite viciously at her skin until it’s red and raw. Lapping at it soothingly with my tongue, I growl as I revel in the way I’ve marked her.
“Wear your hair up when you pick up the kids tomorrow.”
This time it is an order.
“Make sure they see these.” I trace the red traces with my thumb. “I want everyone talking. All the mums whispering and gossiping about it. All the dads jealous that I get to own you. Everyone .”
I slam my mouth down on hers, stealing the breath from her lips. Pushing her up onto the counter, I spread her legs and nestle myself between them, rubbing my hard cock against her center. I fist her hair and control the speed, intensity, and violence of the kiss.
Nera must sense I’m seconds away from ripping her clothes off because she places a hand on my chest and pushes me back softly, panting for breath.
“We can’t. The kids. If you fuck me here, we’re going to have to answer a lot more questions than we’re ready for.”
I groan in frustration and drop my forehead to hers.
“Fine.” I breathe heavily, my chest rising and falling with every ragged inhale and exhale. “But I want you naked and on your knees for me the second they’re in bed.”
She licks my lips teasingly so I smack her ass in warning. Her eyes turn heavy.
“I can do that,” she whispers coyly.
“Careful,” I warn. “I only have so much control.”
She grins. “I know.”
I purr contentedly. “You really are a MILF. But for my eyes only.”
Running her hand through my hair, she asks. “What are you going to tell Cato it means?”
“Mum who’s In Love with Fencing,” I grumble.
She bursts out laughing, my favorite sound in the world. “That doesn’t exactly line up.”
“It’s the best I can do on such short notice.”
She presses a kiss to my lips. “You’re ridiculous and I love you.”
“Fuck, I hope you do. Because I’m never going to love anyone else the way I love you.”
***
The following week, I’m in my study when I hear Nera come home with the kids. The sound of her making them a snack is followed by that of her feet on the stairs as she comes to me.
Dropping my head back against my chair, I watch as my wife walks in. She’s wearing fashionable grey linen trousers with a built-in flap that falls just above mid-thigh and a tight black halter top. Her hair is piled high on her head, her eyes framed by mascara and her lips darkened with red lipstick. Small gold hoops complete the look.
“Hey, baby,” I call out.
She crosses the room and comes to my side of the desk. Resting her hips against the edge, she bends and presses a quick kiss to my lips, brushing the lipstick off my mouth with her thumb.
“Hi,” she says, then straightens and crosses her arms. “Anything you want to tell me?”
“Not specifically, no.”
“I ran into Stephen’s parents during pickup today.” She quirks a brow when my expression remains stoic. “Tell me why they informed me they’ve suddenly and unexpectedly decided to send him and his brother to boarding school in the United States?”
I put on my best surprised expression, although I’d have better luck trying to sell her sand in the desert than getting her to buy my innocence.
“Not sure. That being said, I commend them for their decision. I think it’s a wonderful idea. Justin, specifically, might learn a thing or two while he’s there.”
“Tristan.”
“In fact, he might have been heartily encouraged to learn a thing or two before ever setting foot back here.”
“You banished a thirteen-year-old because he called me a MILF?”
“I didn’t do a thing,” I say innocently. “His parents made a great decision based on empirical facts that may or may not have been presented to them by a concerned third party.”
She shakes her head but a smile tugs at her lips. “And what are you going to do when Cato goes to secondary school? Assuming we send him to RCA, you remember what it was like there. You know how teenage boys are. The hormones. What are you going to do then?”
“Plenty of open spots at that American boarding school. Justin will enjoy having friends with common interests, I’m sure.”
***