Pastries & Flirting #2
“Watch where you’re fucking going.” She looked up at me, and I glared at her, noticing the photograph that she had snuck of me. I cocked a brow, shoving her back.
“Well, if you didn’t take up half the fucking street, then it would be easier to miss you, wouldn’t it?
Tone down on the ‘roids, mate. They’ll shrink your dick.
” I smirked coldly. Did she actually just say that to me?
Doesn’t she realise her hair took up just as much space?
I could see Kiara trying to hide her smile at her comment.
“I assure you, unlike the fucker next to you, I don’t take steroids, kid. And delete that picture you took,” I replied cockily, casting the silent fucker next to her an arrogant glare. Could he not look after his fucking woman?
“It’s just one picture. Let her have it,” Kiara added softly, placing her hand on my arm, sending a rivet of pleasure through me.
The man pulled the mouthy girl possessively against him.
He looked a lot fucking older than her. Our eyes met, and I could sense the power he was trying to exude.
Maybe there was Alpha blood somewhere in his past, or as his woman stated, he might just be high on drugs.
He was not at my fucking level. To my irritation, his attention flicked to Kiara, not even hiding the way he ran his eyes over her.
His gaze lingered on her breasts, making my anger rise.
“Watch where you’re fucking looking,” I growled venomously in Italian, pulling Kiara into my arms.
“If you did not allow your wife to dress as a whore, I would not treat her as one,” the man replied in Italian. My anger flew through the fucking roof, and I was ready to kill him. How dare he have the fucking balls to say that shit to me!
“Alejandro!” Kiara exclaimed, keeping a tight grip on me. “It’s okay, my love,” she murmured soothingly, placing a hand on my jaw. It was obvious she knew he had insulted her, but I doubted she knew exactly what the bastard had said.
We can’t cause a scene here. This place is packed. What did he say?
He fucking insulted how you’re dressed, I hissed through the link, my eyes fixed on the cocky fucker, who smirked arrogantly.
“Keep up that shit, and you’ll die quicker than you can open that fucking mouth,” I growled in Italian at the man, doing my best not to rip him apart. He reached into his back pocket, and something told me he probably had a gun on him.
“You would do well to remember that you and your whore are in my home now. You are not amongst friends here.”
The urge to rip the fucker, whose English was as fucking annoying as my Italian, was only heightening, but there were far too many people watching us. There was no way I could do anything without anyone noticing.
“Your toy weapons won’t fucking hurt-”
“Alejandro, stop. Let’s go,” Kiara cut in firmly, poking her eyes out at me.
I looked at the woman next to him, and, for a moment, she reminded me of Kiara long ago. With a sudden rush of icy realisation, I vaguely remembered insulting Kiara in a similar way back then.
“Don’t let this fucker break you,” I said coldly, knowing if Kiara wasn’t holding me, I would have done something.
Her touch sent waves of calmness through me.
“And since we’re judging by appearances and his face looks like he’s an A-class man-whore, could you kindly escort the fucker away before I break his fucking bones?
” She sucked in an unnecessarily large breath as she gawked at me.
“Please break his bones, Daddy,” I heard her mumble under her breath.
I’m not your daddy, kid. She shook her head as if trying to push the thought away that she didn’t mean to say out loud before she glanced at the fucker and then back at me.
“Don’t listen to him, babe. He’s just pissy because he was woken up with bullets instead of butterfly kisses this morning.
Plus, he’s totally jealous. You’ve got all that ink, and I’m sure this fucker is afraid of needles. ”
I couldn’t resist the smirk that crossed my face, and Kiara pressed her plush lips together as if trying not to smile.
The fucker looked like he wanted to kill the sassy woman, but it was obvious no matter how fucking pissed he was, he wouldn’t.
The real-life princess Poppy, or whatever her name is from that Trolls movie, shrugged carelessly at his anger.
Yeah, that name suited her perfectly. I was sure I got the name right.
The twins watched that movie countless times, and all the little dolls had like big hair.
“Now, can we stop with the dick-measuring contest? We get it, you’re both giants who need therapy, move the fuck on.” She was a cheeky fucker.
“Good plan,” Kiara added, about to lead me away when she paused, seeing the woman hobble slightly. “Are you okay? Do you want me to take a look at it? I’m a… doctor,” she offered, making my gaze snap to her.
“Yeah, I’m good, five by five,” Poppy replied, but it was obvious Kiara didn’t believe her. Now that she mentioned it, she did seem to be limping a bit ever since she knocked into me. Kiara reached over with her free hand, touching the younger woman’s arm, and I sensed her healing aura around her.
Don’t, Kia.
Just a little… she’s still in pain, she said to me as she smiled softly at Poppy.
Let’s go. Kiara nodded, but she paused, looking at the man.
“One more thing… it’s a free world, and if I choose to wear a crop top or walk around in nothing but lingerie, that’s my choice.
You should learn to keep your eyes to yourself.
At least to show respect to the woman you are with,” she said.
Her voice held confidence, a small smile graced her plump lips, and her eyes held a confident spark of defiance as she stared up at the huge man fearlessly.
That’s my queen, dauntless, strong, and fucking perfect. I was done with this.
“Come on, Amore Mio, let’s go.”
Casting a murderous glare at the arrogant fucker, my eyes flashed red before I looked away quickly. My hand slipped around her waist, pulling her close and away from the couple.
“Fucker,” I muttered as we reached our awaiting car, and I opened the door for Kiara.
“What was all that about?” I heard the man say. But it was the woman’s reply that made me pause.
“Werewolves.”
“That was so strange,” Kiara whispered as I got in after her.
“Yeah, tell me about it.” I glanced at the driver. “Let’s head back to Milan.” With that, I sat back as he nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“You know that man looked like an alpha,” Kiara mused quietly, settling back against me.
“Nah, like his woman said, he’s on steroids.”
“She didn’t say that… you said that,” Kiara reminded me, smirking. “Are you jealous he was so big but was human?”
“He was shorter than me.”
“No, he wasn’t. I mean a little bit only.” She burst out laughing, clearly enjoying teasing me. “But you’re right, he was a teensy tiny bit shorter… but he was a real Italian.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Weren’t you born and raised in England? So that makes you British, doesn’t it?”
“I’m Italian and, yeah, British,” I growled, knowing she was pushing my buttons and fucking succeeding. She smirked.
“Well, either way, I like my British Italian more,” she whispered, leaning up and planting a soft kiss on my jaw.
“Yeah, you fucking should,” I replied as she sat back and opened her bag of pastries. “They were a fucking weird couple. He looked old enough to be her fucking dad.”
“Alejandro! Isn’t that kind of hypocritical considering you are sixteen years older than me?”
“I don’t fucking look it.”
“True.” She pouted, and I smirked. One fucking win for me.
“He was a fucking dick.”
“I do agree, but I guess he just needs someone to tame him.” She smiled, her attention falling to her bag of treats.
“But the man in the bakery was so sweet. Oh look, he even put in a few extras!” She held up the bag, her eyes sparkling, and I couldn’t resist the small smile that crossed my lips.
It was good to see her so fucking happy.
I just hoped, with all the shit that went down earlier, that things didn’t get any worse.
“So, we head home now?” She asked me, biting into one of the cream-filled pastries.
“Yeah. We got the answers we needed, so we head back.”