12. Dr. Laura
twelve
There was something about coming home late, to a dark and empty house, that had always left a knot of despair in the depths of Cristiano’s stomach. He’d never expressed the feeling to anyone, always felt like it made him sound weak and insecure because he knew it was just a mindfuck. But the feeling never went away. Not until he brought Felicity into his home, into his bed.
This night was no different. It was late as shit, and for once he wasn’t even coming back with blood or some other questionable substance on his hands, and the penthouse was dark. Silent. Yet as soon as he stepped into the bedroom and saw her there, sound asleep in his oversized bed, warmth filled his chest. A smile lifted his lips as he drank in the sight of her.
She was curled up on her side, his pillow under her cheek and the comforter pushed down nearly to her waist. As she’d taken to doing when she fell asleep alone, she was wearing one of his T-shirts for a nightshirt, the collar so loose on her shoulders it had already practically fallen off. Her dark hair was fanned behind her and he could see her chest rise and fall with even breaths.
His cock stirred to life as he let himself stare. Felicity was so fucking beautiful. So sweet, despite all the shit she’d been put through, and definitely too good for him. She had her first meeting with Dr. Laura the next day. He knew he needed to let her rest. He knew, but he wasn’t capable of stopping himself.
Cristiano moved silently to the sitting chair and quickly popped off his boots. He set them down to keep them from dropping loudly to the floor. Then he stood, all but ripped off the rest of his clothing, and eased the comforter away from his woman.
Her legs were bare, as he’d known they’d be. She probably wasn’t even wearing panties. He fully intended to find out.
He climbed onto the bed, over her, and brushed a kiss to her cheek when she groaned faintly at the shifting. “Shh, it’s just me, baby,” he murmured next to her ear.
Felicity sighed, as if she understood him, and her breathing restabilized. Her instinctive trust in him fueled his hunger and Cristiano lowered his head, pressing another soft kiss to her exposed shoulder. He took the opportunity to inhale her sweet scent and the way it had mixed with his.
Then he positioned himself to kneel below her, reached down, and slipped a hand between her thighs. Gently, he massaged the skin, working up until he found her hot center and could sweep his fingers through her folds. She shifted a little, releasing a mewling moan, and he teased her clit for a precious second. As soon as she was wet enough, he adjusted his hips and took hold of her thigh, giving himself room to push his full, aching length inside of her.
Felicity squirmed, her head rolling, and she made a sound of approval.
Cristiano groaned as her pussy spasmed around him. He wanted to lose himself, to surrender to his most primal urges and just fuck her until his balls were dry and the thought of more contact actually hurt. But he also didn’t want to wake her up. So he held her thigh against his abdomen, slid his other hand beneath the stolen shirt to touch more of her skin, and slowly started rocking.
He stroked his cock in and out of her slick pussy. He was careful not to thrust too hard, but still it wasn’t long before he was fighting the need to come. It was too soon. He wanted more. He wanted to see how many sleepy moans he could pull from her, how much she would squirm for him, and if he could get her to orgasm before she woke. No. That was a necessity.
He moved his hand from her hip and dipped it down, finding her clit without breaking rhythm. She was so fucking tight and wet, her body already starting to convulse around him. It didn’t take much. He rolled the nub beneath his fingers as he sank inside her again, and this time, when she woke with a scream, it was the one kind of scream he loved to hear on her lips.
The way she twisted her hips with the motion was the last push he needed and Cristiano let out a roar as he emptied inside her.
Felicity dropped onto her elbows, angled to look up at him, her eyes wide and blinking rapidly. Her chest heaved, her breasts straining against the shirt with the movement. “Cr-Cristiano?”
He growled and shoved the shirt up, off her, inadvertently knocking her onto her back. He moved her thighs to his hips and leaned down, kissing her hard. “Sorry, baby,” he said with a grunt as the kiss broke. “I missed you today. Need you.” He hadn’t been home at all since he’d left that morning. It was the first day they’d spent so apart and it had been hell. He needed her close. Closer than close.
Felicity laughed softly and tightened her legs around him, crossing her ankles at his back. “Kinda feels like you already took me. That was way hotter than it should have been.”
He huffed out a breath and bent to trail kisses down her neck, rocking and grinding against her. “Told you I have unconventional tastes.” He licked at her pulse point as he started thrusting deeper into her again, then lifted his gaze to hers. It was dark, but his eyes had adjusted. He could see her panting and smiling up at him. “You sure you can handle me fucking you in your sleep like that?”
“Shit, yes,” Felicity exclaimed. She wrapped her arms around him. “If I don’t want you touching me, I’ll put pants on. Otherwise—ah—fuck me, Cris. Please.”
He choked on a laugh of his own and licked his way back into her mouth. “Don’t blame me if your pants all disappear tomorrow.”
She laughed until he sat up, took hold of her hips, and thrust harder into her. This was what he needed. Her, surrounding him. Her, welcoming him. Just her. All of her.
What had she been thinking? Sure, she had a lot of stuff going on in her head, and Cristiano wasn’t the first person to suggest she look into therapy, but now that the moment was upon her Felicity realized this probably wasn’t the best way. Ambushing her secret lover’s family’s possibly blackmailed psychotherapist, while that same family was looking to capture and most likely kill her, did not seem like a great idea. Why does life have to be so messy?
It would have been great if she could have run through all her pre-appointment anxieties with Taylor. But the least she could do was respect Taylor’s wishes and stay away until she was able to be forthright with her friend. If her friend was even, well, her friend anymore.
Cristiano settled his arm around her shoulders as the elevator doors closed. “It’ll be fine,” he said. “I’m with you.”
Felicity leaned into him, aware that once they stepped from the building, she couldn’t be so openly affectionate. She was a bit sore still, but despite losing half a night’s sleep, she felt astoundingly well-rested. Too bad that did nothing for her worries. “What if someone sees us first?”
He gave her a squeeze. “Then I finally found you and grabbed you up. I approached you, in open daylight, and you came willingly because you’re afraid of and frankly despise your half-brother. Something like that.”
“But wouldn’t you be expected to, like, rough me up at least?” The elevator stopped at B1 and Felicity realized she’d dumbly not paid attention to the number they’d started on.
“No,” Cristiano said. “Not if you’re enthusiastically cooperating. The problem would come after that, because then I’d need to take you somewhere less comfortable and we wouldn’t be expected to be friends. Half the things you said would be hard to prove, particularly with your family mostly dead now.” He released her shoulders and scooped up her hand, guiding her into the underground parking structure.
There were a few scattered vehicles, but she couldn’t see any signs of movement. Not that she was any kind of skilled observer. Felicity scrunched up her face. “Isn’t that kind of your guys’ fault?”
Cristiano chuckled, leading her directly to a very nice, shiny black car that surely cost more than her college tuition. He beeped it unlocked and held open the passenger door for her. “See, Foxglove, that’s not the kind of argument they’d appreciate.” He motioned her inside and shut the door behind her before moving around to duck into the driver’s seat.
Felicity buckled herself in and wiped her sweaty palms down the skirt of her dress. “But we’ll be okay?” He’d already answered that. She couldn’t believe she was so freaked out. She’d done therapy before, kind of. One of her two psychology courses had offered on-campus counseling as extra credit and she’d taken advantage, since it was free and gave a boost to her grade. She imagined this would feel rather different than that, though.
Cristiano navigated them onto the main road, then moved a hand to her thigh and squeezed. “We’ll be okay, baby. I promise.”
She tried to hold on to his words and let herself watch the city she’d spent the last week and a half sitting above pass by her window. Was that really all it had been?
She thought back on that day in the grocery store, when she’d first laid eyes on Cristiano. It felt like so long ago. Her mind fast-forwarded through the memories they’d already made as he drove, lingering over her favorite highlights. The way he cooked for her whenever he could. The way he preferred to hold her in his lap. The sight of his name, tattooed across the rippling muscles of his back, as he knelt between her thighs. And every single mind-numbing orgasm.
Felicity squirmed in her seat. Maybe this isn’t the best thing to think about before meeting someone new.
A flicker of their conversation from the night before, as he’d been working up to take her for the second time, replayed in her mind. The moment had been hot, but in the light of day, she wanted to smack herself. “Cristiano,” she said, moving a hand to rest over the top of the one he still had on her thigh. “I’m sorry, I— Last night, I was a little worked up and I called you ‘Cris’ without asking if it bothered you.”
The car rolled to a stop at an intersection and he turned to raise a brow at her. “You’re apologizing for that?”
She nodded.
He squeezed her leg again. The light turned, traffic moved forward, and he said, “Most of my family calls me Cris. I don’t mind it.” He paused to make a turn, almost immediately sliding into a center turn lane and flicking on the blinker. “I am curious why you worried about that.”
Felicity swallowed, watching through the windshield as he turned into a business complex she’d never ventured into. Some places just emanated a certain level of wealth, which equated to higher expense, and growing up poor meant avoiding those places like the plague. But she pushed that thought aside and quietly said, “Tristán always insisted on calling me Lissy. Sometimes Manny would, too, but only when he was mocking me. I’ve come to hate it. I’m not Lissy, and the last time someone tried calling me ‘Fi’ the person standing next to them assumed that meant my name was Fiona. So I’d rather just be called by my proper name, and since I feel that way, I should have made a point to check with you.”
By the time she was done, Cristiano had eased to a stop in front of a single-story, clean brick building. It almost looked more like a house than a business. There wasn’t even a sign out front. It was definitely the kind of place you had to know where you were going to know you belonged.
Cristiano released her seat belt, then his own, and twisted to face her. “How many pet names do I have for you?”
She blinked at him. “Um, three?” Suddenly she wasn’t sure.
“Are you upset about them? Or that I didn’t ask first?”
“No.” Realization dawned and she smiled. “No,” she repeated. “They’re different. They feel different.”
His expression softened and he cupped her cheek. “You can call me any damn thing you want. If it feels right to you, I won’t have a problem with it.” His hand retreated and he threw open his door. “Let’s go.” He didn’t actually wait for her before rounding the car, catching her door, and pulling it open the rest of the way.
Felicity supposed she should have known he’d want to get her door for her. She didn’t put up a fuss about him leading the way into the building. She was proud of herself for managing not to cling to him like a koala when her nerves surged back to the surface as they stepped inside.
Cristiano led them down a short hall and into a sitting room-like lobby space, where he guided her to take a seat with him on a two-seater sofa. There was another hall that opened off the far side of the room, and Felicity could see a partially closed door with a restroom sign on it. The room had two decent sized windows, both covered with drapes that were thin enough to let the light through while managing to effectively obscure anyone’s view from outside.
A woman stepped into the room from somewhere beyond the restroom, catching Felicity’s attention. She was maybe two inches taller than Felicity’s five-foot-five, depending on the exact measurement of her tasteful heels, with a slim build wrapped in a pantsuit worthy of a magazine cover. Her hair was light brown in the process of transitioning to silver, which she wore without evidence of shame, twisted away from her face in a low bun. Creases around her eyes and lips indicated her age, but she wore her years well. And Felicity could hardly miss the way both her still brown brows lifted high on her forehead as her attention settled on Cristiano.
Cristiano stood. “Dr. Laura,” he said. He reached back and pressed his fingers into Felicity’s arm, a silent signal for her to stand as well. “Sorry to do this to you. This is who you’ll be seeing today, but I need you to keep everything under my name.”
Dr. Laura’s hazel-colored eyes shifted to Felicity. “This isn’t what I agreed to, Cristiano.”
“I know,” he said calmly, “but it was necessary.”
Felicity chewed her lip, not sure she should be speaking at this stage.
Dr. Laura sighed. “All right. You’re already paying for the spot, anyway. But never trick me like this again.” She motioned Felicity forward. “Come on, honey, let’s have a talk.”
Felicity glanced up at Cristiano, more uncertain than ever.
He lifted a hand to the small of her back and gave her a light push. “Go ahead. I’ll be out here.”
She nodded and stepped forward, following the older woman around the corner. There were two more doors, one almost opposite the bathroom and one at the end of the hall. The closer one was wide open and looked to lead to some kind of snack or play space. Dr. Laura led her to the other, motioning her inside and closing the door behind them for privacy. This was a proper therapy room, as far as Felicity could tell. A sofa stretched along one wall, with cushions and a side table containing a box of tissues. A large, covered window. A floor-to-ceiling bookshelf on the opposite wall, containing books, trinkets, boxed games, and candy jars. In front of the bookshelf, facing the sofa, was a tall wingback chair with a side table of its own.
“Have a seat,” Dr. Laura said, indicating the sofa. “The De Salvo boys tend to call me Dr. Laura, so I’m used to that by now if you want to do the same.” She settled into the chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Before we dive into anything, since this started unconventionally, I’m going to ask you two questions. I need you to answer them honestly and as naturally as possible, okay?”
Felicity lowered into the outermost corner of the sofa, not sure how comfortable she should really get, and nodded. “Okay.”
Dr. Laura stared straight at her, as if trying to read her mind. “What’s your name?”
Felicity licked her lips. Why did she not know if she was supposed to answer that? No, Cristiano had said to embrace this, that it was for her. Obviously, her doctor needed her name. “Felicity Garcia.”
“Are you here voluntarily, Felicity?”
“What?”
Dr. Laura’s eyes narrowed. “Are you here of your own free will?”
Something like indignation sparked in Felicity’s chest. “Yes. Yes, I’m here of my own free will. It was literally my choice. I asked Cristiano to come here.” She clamped her lips shut before she went off on a woman who didn’t know her. A woman who, arguably, had at least some reason to be suspicious.
Dr. Laura was silent for a moment. “Tell me about that,” she said. “What was your choice, specifically? Was it an ultimatum, an offer with a price attached? Something else entirely?”
Felicity clenched her hands into fists in her lap. “Cristiano said you were friends with his mom. He said we could trust you. So while I get that this isn’t an ideal beginning, maybe you should understand their lifestyle well enough to comprehend that shit is complicated right now. And that’s why I’m here. Because my life is a fucking mess, and he knew I needed someone to help me sort it out. So he recommended you, said you were someone I could safely talk to if I wanted. Or I could choose not, and the only consequence was the same as I’d been living with—dealing on my own.”
Dr. Laura’s expression finally softened around the edges. “I’m impressed he told you that.”
“If we’re going to spend my half hour judging my motives or whatever, I can do that without professional help,” Felicity said, her tone sharp. She stood, stupidly wishing she’d worn heels just for the miniscule boost.
Dr. Laura held up a hand. “No,” she said. “This is an incredibly unorthodox beginning, but as long as your need is genuine and you aren’t in fear for your life, we can proceed.”
Felicity couldn’t contain the rush of incredulous laughter. She dropped back to the seat, her skirt fluttering, and clapped a hand over her mouth. “And what if I am?” She pulled in a breath. “Cristiano might not be threatening me, but there are at least, like, three other men in this city right now looking to do terrible things to me.” All of a sudden, her eyes were burning. “And I didn’t do anything to them. I was just born, and I never had it in me to kill myself, so here I am. Wanted by a mafia guy for being related to a psycho bastard, and wanted by the psycho bastard and his gang friends for … existing, I think.” Tears dripped off her lashes as her mouth continued to run. “My landlord’s being super sketchy, admitting to things he never actually did, so there’s also that. And I had to lie to my best friend—my only friend—because I’m in hiding, so now she’s not talking to me.”
Dr. Laura rested her hands in her lap, sadness in her eyes. “You were right. That is complicated.”
Felicity yanked a couple of tissues from the box to wipe at her face, feeling self-conscious again.
“Let’s start with the psycho bastard,” Dr. Laura said. “Tell me who he is to you, and why you think your very existence makes you a target for him. Be as specific as you’re comfortable with.”
Felicity sucked in a shaky breath. She hated going over all of that, but this more than anything was the reason she needed therapy and she knew it. Not that she thought a single day would fix her trauma, but a girl had to start somewhere.
It was surprisingly hard to sit patiently in the lobby and simply wait for her, like he’d promised to do. At one point Cristiano had thought he’d heard Felicity let out a laughing sound, but it wasn’t her real laugh. It was a strained, upset sound that shot him to his feet before he could catch himself. Therapy wasn’t easy. It wasn’t supposed to be easy.
So he forced himself to sit back down.
He waited quietly, impatiently clearing emails and spying on associates’ social media accounts, for a good ten minutes before his phone buzzed with an incoming text.
Mikey: We need to talk. My office.
Cristiano frowned. What the fuck was up with his cousins and their strange, cryptic messages the last few days? He glared uselessly at his phone as he typed out his response. Which office?
Mikey: House. ASAP. Mikey never had been one for extended dialogues. He also wasn’t usually one for insisting on a face-to-face.
Grinding his teeth, Cristiano shoved to his feet and stomped down the hall. He was not aborting Felicity’s appointment when she’d waited a damn week to get in already. He dropped his knuckles to the door in warning, then pushed it open despite Dr. Laura’s protests.
Felicity had tears in her eyes, a crumpled tissue in her hand, and was staring at him with concern at his unexpected interruption. “What—”
“Cristiano, you can’t just barge in here!”
Cristiano moved across the room, lifted another tissue, and crouched down to gently wipe at Felicity’s eyes. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said quietly. “I have to go indulge Mikey for a minute. He’s not long-winded, it won’t take long, but it can’t wait.”
She gaped at him. “But…”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and stood, dropping the tissue into the garbage pail. Then he turned to Dr. Laura. “I’ll pay for double the session. I should be back by then.”
Dr. Laura scowled at him in disapproval.
“Cris,” Felicity called as he reached the door. She offered him a smile when their eyes met. “Be careful.”
He lifted his lips for a second, pulled the door shut, and strode swiftly from the building. He didn’t know what the fuck Mikey wanted, but the sooner he found out, the sooner he could get back to Felicity.
All this running around behind his family’s back was going to kill him.
Either that, or the traffic. He’d forgotten it was pushing the lunch hour. “God-fucking-dammit.” It took him another ten minutes to reach his youngest cousin’s residence, prove himself to the ever-changing security setup, and exit the car.
He did his best to calm down, forcing his expression into something more appropriate as he approached the house. Mikey’s message was out of character. If he were clear-headed, he’d have been worried his cousin was sending out a coded plea for help. Should he have been worried about that? Cristiano reached behind him, realizing he didn’t have his gun on him, and let out a low grunt. Well, if there was a threat, he’d have to get a little rough with it.