8. Luca
8
LUCA
L ooking down at my watch, I check the time again. He should be here any minute now, but for now, I have to wait.
Sitting alone in one of the restaurant’s booths tucked all the way in the back corner of the entire establishment, I mentally prepare myself for the meeting ahead. I pull the sleeves of my shirt out from the recesses of my jacket, fixing up my hair so that it sits neatly upon my head and finally practicing my stern face for when they arrive.
Not only do I sit alone at my table, but the entire place seems to be vacant apart from a single barman and what I think are cooks and waiters hiding in the kitchen. Something doesn’t feel right, but it’s far too late to back out now.
The door to the restaurant swings open, and I lean my head out of the booth and make eye contact with the person walking in. He’s fairly tall, possibly around five foot eleven, with an average build and a clean haircut of black hair.
It’s strange. Neither this man nor his description seems to match anyone in the Greco family or anyone they associate with.
Still, by his direct line toward me in the back booth I was directed to sit in, this is definitely who I’m here to see.
“Sorry, I’m late. I was only just called in,” the man says.
“What do you mean just called in?” I ask him, becoming more uneasy. Why would they get someone to meet me so last minute if they wanted me here?
“The man you were supposed to meet with became unavailable at the last minute. Not that it matters; I am more than able to fill in for him,” he responds in an unnervingly neutral tone.
“Can I at least get your name? ”
“That would be unnecessary,” he shuts me down. “This should be the last time we need to meet. After this, you’ll be negotiating with who the boss really wants. We have no need for formalities here.”
“I prefer to know who I’m dealing with,” I urge him. “It’s difficult to trust someone you don’t know.”
“Well then,” he says as he turns back toward the door. “I suppose we’re done here.”
I scoff. “Fine. No names.”
Satisfied, the man smiles, returns to the booth, and sits down across the table from me.
He’s already playing me. I need to focus here.
“Shall we begin?” the stranger asks.
“By all means. Tell me what you need to say.” I clasp my hands in front of me, placing them on the table.
“As I’m sure you’re all aware”—the man speaks slowly, perfecting every syllable of every word as if he’s rehearsed it a thousand times—“the Grecos have grown quite a hold on Montcove in recent months.”
“Of course. You have your hands in a few pockets. But I don’t quite see why that would matter to us.”
“A fair point to make.” He chuckles, breaking his cold facade. “With how things have been going for us, it seems only inevitable that we will end up clashing against the Valentis.”
“Is that so?” I speak softly, trying my best to assess if his words are meant to be threatening.
“It is. And that’s a future that wouldn’t be beneficial for either party,” he continues. “So what we’re proposing is an alliance.”
“Right. And it’s just a coincidence that this is coming so soon after Mr. Valenti’s wedding to Ms. Rossi?”
He sighs. “I understand your skepticism, but I can assure you we only want what is best for both families,” the man replies. “If we were to end up at odds, we’d both lose money, businesses, and connections—and we’d lose some of our own.”
I listen to his words intently, waiting for a moment to strike back.
“However, if we were to join forces, we can increase all of those things. We’d have more control of Montcove, a larger network of connections, and a greater unit.”
“So far, I’m hearing about a lot of things that we can do for you, but I’m yet to find anything that you bring to the table.” I remain critical. I can’t mess this up. I need to keep ahead of him and think logically about this.
“We would offer you an alternative,” he proposes.
“An alternative to what?”
The man takes a beat, collecting his thoughts for what to say next, and I scrutinize his composure. He seems to be going off-script; I think I have him on the defense now.
“Look,” he says, “I can tell you’re not easily swayed by mere words. That is a fair trait for you to have, and I can certainly see why you’re the one who was sent here.”
I narrow my eyes, not wanting to fall victim to his flattery.
“But unlike yourself, I wasn’t the first in line for this meeting. So I will speak to you frankly. What we want to offer the Valentis is an alternative to the Rossis.”
An alternative to the Rossis ?
“Your alliance with them is new but fragile. They aren’t like us. The Rossis are unpredictable and only care about themselves.” His words speak to a part of me I don’t want to listen to right now. “Is that really the kind of people you want to align yourselves with?”
He’s making a fair point. I have some kind of feelings for Dominic that I can’t quite place, but this stranger’s words remind me of my own thoughts about him and his family.
“As we speak, one of their sons is out there taking part in some crazy street race. He’s going to get himself wrapped up in something idiotic and get killed or arrested by the police, and if the police get him, I’m sure he’ll be quick to talk to save his own skin,” he shares. “Doesn’t that just sound like what a Rossi would do?”
To me, that can only sound like the actions of one Rossi in particular.
“Which son?” I ask, completely forgetting every other part he’s said.
“Their middle son, Dominic Rossi. But I can guarantee that he is no different than the rest of his blood.”
“Where is this race?” I demand .
“Downtown, at the industrial estate. Why does this matter?”
I stand quickly from my seat, dragging myself out of the booth.
“I need to go,” I assert, already making my way to the door.
“Where are you going? We need to discuss?—”
Without another word, I walk out the door and leave him there in the booth.
I step out of the driver’s side of the car, standing out in the middle of the dim alleyway. I stare directly at Dominic, watching the anger take over his face and his fists clenching by his sides. Murder fills his eyes.
I still can’t believe I raced over here so quickly. I walked directly out of that meeting and sped to the scene without a second thought to make sure Dominic was ok. Somehow, I was lucky enough to run into him like this, but the way I’ve been drawn to him all week, I don’t even question it anymore. It feels like every time we see each other is fated to happen .
“Why are you here?” Dominic shouts. “Why are you always here?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I don’t know,” I repeat. “I-I found out you were here and that you could be in danger and?—”
“I am fine,” he interrupts.
“How could I have known that?”
“Still doesn’t explain why you came. Why should you care if I’m okay?”
“Because…because,” I stutter. “I needed to know.”
“Just leave me the hell alone.”
“I wish I could.”
“What does that mean?” he hisses.
“I feel like I hate you,” I snarl. “But no matter where I go, you always seem to be there. And no matter what I try to do, you are the only thing that I can think about.”
“Maybe you should try harder.”
I move closer to him, half-flinching when Dominic does the same to stand his ground.
“Can you honestly say to me now that you want me gone? Can you look me in the eyes and tell me to leave?” I scream, not even caring who might be around to hear .
Dominic grits his teeth and stares at the ground before my feet. “Go!”
“I said to look at me.”
He tilts his face to meet my eyes, staring me down. His breathing grows heavy and rough, and I can hear it clearly despite the distance between us.
“Why can’t you say it?” I ask him.
“Why did you run away?” He rejects my question and asks his own.
“What?” I know exactly what he means, but I can’t bear to think about it.
“At the party.” He pauses. “At the party, you kissed me. I didn’t want that, but still, you kissed me and then you ran away. You left me there.”
“Why did you kiss me back?” My emotions swell in my throat.
“Answer my question.”
“You answer mine.”
“I don’t know,” Dominic admits. “ And I don’t know why I can’t tell you to leave.”
“And I don’t know why I ran.”
Quickly, he launches himself toward me, the same way he’s done before. Expecting it, I throw my hands up to push back against his and block his hold of my wrists .
However, this time he grabs me by the waist and shoves me against my car. My back thuds against the metal door, sending shocks all the way up my spine and throwing me off balance.
He presses me firmly against the vehicle and kisses me tenderly on the lips.
Tenderly in a way I had no idea he was capable of.
Pulling away, Dominic looks me deep in my eyes and says, “Are you going to run away again?” His eyes flash dark green and dangerous.
Still trying to catch my breath, my heart beating out of my chest, I look back at him and smirk. “No.”
Smiling back at me, Dominic leans in once again. He kisses me again, aggressively this time, plunging his tongue into my mouth as though in ownership and I like it. I love it. I want more and more and more of him.
I can smell the acrid scent of his exertion mixed with the scent of his arousal and something else, something woody, something him.
He slides me across the side of the car, takes one hand off of my waist, and yanks the car door open behind me.
“What are you doing?” I ask him softly.
“Just go with it,” he whispers back to me. “I’ll give you what you want.”
Swinging the door open, he pushes me down and shoves me onto the back seat.
Crawling back in the car, I feel the weight of Dominic’s body moving onto my own. On top of me, he runs his hand up my chest and rips my shirt open. The buttons pop and my chest is exposed.
I fight for my arms to be freed, needing them for what comes next. I wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to me, alternating between kissing his neck and biting softly into it. I hear him draw a sharp breath through his teeth, recoiling ever so slightly from the pain.
“You little brat,” he murmurs in my ear. I can’t help but giggle.
Pushing himself up, he starts to work his way down my entire body, running his tongue down my chest, kissing my stomach gently and then biting it, and only stopping once he reaches my waistline. He takes his hands and slowly undoes my belt, the feeling of his hands brushing against my already hardening cock makes my body quiver.
Unzipping the fly of my pants, he teases me by slowly pulling them down to my knees. Wanting to watch every moment of this, I see him grin at the sight of my throbbing bulge fighting to be freed from my underwear.
“Take them off,” I beg.
He responds only by rubbing both of his hands along the fabric of my boxers, digging his nails into them as he grabs hold of the material and tears straight through them.
“Is this what you want, sweet step-brother?” he asks as he looks down at me with hunger.
“Please..” I gasp and I am suddenly incapable of anything coherent.
Now free, my erect penis springs toward his face, pressing gently against it. The feeling of our skin touching is exhilarating, but it only gets better as he grabs hold of my cock and puts it straight into his mouth in a way that feels better than even in my very best dreams.
Rising up and down and massaging it with only his lips, I release an uncontrollable moan as if it were permission for him to continue. I grip the seat beneath my back, digging my nails into its firm leather and holding on to it for dear life. I can feel my own soul leave my body as Dominic intensifies his control over me.
He bobs his head faster and faster, my growing fervor feeling as if it’s reaching its peak and I’m about to explode inside of his mouth, but he doesn’t stop. I edge closer and closer to my breaking point. I try to hold it back, but his tongue just feels so good and I can’t stop myself any longer.
My entire body contorts as the overwhelming feeling takes over every single one of my muscles as I ejaculate into Dominic’s mouth. Erupting into him, I feel his throat flex repeatedly as he swallows every last drop of it.
He pulls his head up from my crotch and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he growls, taking his jacket off and tossing it down beside us in the increasingly cramped back seat.
Next, he grabs me by the back of the head, gripping my hair in his hand and using it to pull me down into his lap. Burying my face into his crotch, he makes me feel the hard outline of his member against my cheek.
“I want you to beg for it,” he demands with a smug look building on his face.
I know I’m completely at his mercy, and I have no power or say over what happens in this car. I feel weak and helpless. I love it.
“Please give me your cock. I want to taste every inch of you, I want you to use my throat for your pleasure,” I plead with him.
“Good boy,” he responds, using his free hand to take down his pants and letting loose his unfathomable length.
It’s so much bigger and more meaty than I thought and I gulp at the thought of taking it all.
Not that I’m going to get much choice now that I have begged for it, I realize that.
Against my own will, he forces it straight down into my throat and I gag again and again, but he doesn’t stop. My eyes are watering and drool is beginning to spill from my lips. I am absolutely choking on him.
He is deep in my throat and he controls the speed and motion of how I suck him as he holds my head tight in my hands and rams it down on his dick before releasing it slightly to pull up before ramming it back down again.
It is a face fucking like none I have ever had before.
I savor every taste, feel, and sensation of him. It all feels like how I had fantasized but somehow so much better.
Grabbing his hand on the back of my head, I tear it away from me, and gasps in surprise.
I have so much drool that spills out of my mouth.
He looks at me for a moment confused until I lift my head up from his groin, place both my hands on his hardened rod, and stroke it gently up and down, using my now available tongue to lick along his shaft all the way from the base until I reach his blushing tip and begin to suck on it again.
I softly pucker my lips around it and playfully tease it while still massaging his enormous cock. “Do you like that?” I taunt.
He can’t even say a word. Each placement of my lips delivers only another moan from his mouth. Every stroke causes his body to convulse slightly. He must be close.
I commit myself to choking on him again, shoving his shaft deep into my throat and almost choking on its size. This feels incredible.
He must think so, too, because soon his eyes roll back into his head. and I’m hit by the hot jet of his semen spewing down my throat.
There’s so much of it I can’t take it all.
I do my best to swallow it, but heavy drops of it fall from my mouth and land beside him on the seat.
“Fuck,” I exclaim.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “You can clean it up.”
Dominic grabs me by the throat and thrusts my face down into his puddle, feeling the white liquid stick to my face.
“Lick it up,” he commands.
I follow his word without hesitation and begin to lap it up. Feeling my rough tongue against the smooth seat and tasting the combination of leather and semen, my body is rocked by another overwhelming shiver.
This feels amazing.