33. The icing on the cupcake?
Chapter 33
The icing on the cupcake?
Luca
A fter bowling, I swim some laps. The physical activity not only keeps me fit but also helps me deal with all the pent-up energy. Being around Ariana is amazing, but I’m constantly in one state of arousal or another. We haven’t done more than kiss, but I don’t want to rush or pressure her into anything. So I spend a lot of time in the gym and the pool. And jerking off in the shower.
Finishing up one last lap, I pull myself out of the pool and run a towel over my body before heading toward the house. Mia’s sitting at the table on the patio near the back door, where the girls and I sometimes drink our coffee in the mornings. She puts her book down next to her lemonade when I get close.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying the pool, Luca.” She smiles at me, and I realize how much Lil looks like her. “The girls don’t use it as much as they used to. When they were little, I could hardly keep them out of it. They would pretend to be mermaids for hours all summer long.”
I chuckle. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to believe they’re grown up now. But they are,” she sighs. “Though they’re doing DeVille girl things. Still hiding cigarettes and liquor, like that means I don’t know about any of it.”
“Does it bother you? The girls getting drunk up in Lil’s closet?” I ask her.
“No. Just like it doesn’t bother me when you have a beer or two with Marco. It never has. Bad things happen outside the walls Marco built for us. Here, they have each other, and they know they can always come get us. And they have before. They might not make the best decisions together, but they always look out for each other.”
“I’m still a little surprised Ariana let me drive them home from game night at Amanda’s house. I thought I would have to fight her for the keys, but she handed them over.”
“You should be surprised,” she says with a chuckle. “I won’t pretend they always make good choices. They’ve made some real shit ones, actually. Ariana has a fake ID that looks like something Marco would have Parker make for someone needing a new identity, and Lil’s might not be as good, but it works. I have no idea where they got them from or where they keep them, but I know they used them to get into a bar last year and drank themselves stupid there. Which ended up with Ariana getting into a fucking bar fight. Got arrested and everything.”
“Holy fuck,” I say, my eyes wide.
“Someone was harassing Lil. I’m sure you know by now that shit doesn’t fly with Ari.”
“She’s kind of a badass.”
“That’s who she is. She might not be of our blood, but this is her family. She’ll do anything to protect it. You probably know by now she’s killed to protect it. And she would die to protect it.”
After talking with Mia, I jump in the shower to rinse off the saltwater. I start thinking about Ariana, my mind replaying our kisses, her smiles, her winks, that fucking tongue ring… and now I’ m harder than a goddamned rock. Again. I grab my aching cock, groaning as I slide my hand up and down the shaft. The base of my spine tingles and I come with her name on my lips for like the millionth time since getting here. The hot water rains down on me while I wonder if I should hate myself for it.
Marco meets me as I jog down the stairs. “With me,” he says in his mafia boss voice. When we reach the bottom, he calls out for Ariana.
“In the kitchen, Dad.”
Her hair’s in a messy bun and there’s flour everywhere. She looks adorable and sexy at the same time in her apron.
“Your skills are needed.”
She stares at him for a second, then looks at me with apprehension in her eyes.
“Can’t someone else go? I just put cupcakes in the oven.”
“Alfred White’s daughter was taken.”
“Fuck.” She unties her apron and tosses it aside. “Becca?—”
“I’ve got them, sweetie. You go.”
“Give me five minutes.”
She’s back in four, followed by Lil. All traces of flour are gone. She’s changed into black skinny jeans, a black t-shirt, and tall black boots that are sexy as fuck. She’s carrying some kind of case, which is covered in stickers.
“I want details when you get back,” Lil says, linking their pinkies for a second.
“Liar,” Ari says as she and I follow Marco to the garage. It seems wrong and weird to leave without Lil.
We jump into Marco’s SUV, and for once, Ari doesn’t try to drive. She sits in the back seat and pulls her hair into a tight braid as Marco talks. “A deal went bad, and someone grabbed White’s daughter. I don’t know why the hell she was there in the first place, and I plan to find out and correct that fucking mistake later. Talking hasn’t done shit.” I understand Marco’s words, but not what they mean exactly. It’s another milkshake situation.
We pull up to a warehouse and take an elevator to the roof. Marco points a finger, and Ari nods before walking that way. I move to follow her, but Marco stops me with a hand on my chest and a shake of his head. My heart starts to pound because I don’t know what the hell is happening right now, and I don’t like that she’s now close to the edge alone since she almost fell off the fucking counter this morning.
Then Ariana drops to her stomach and opens the case. In seconds, she’s put together a sniper rifle and is looking through the sight.
“Holy fuck,” I whisper. That was fucking hot. I don’t take my eyes off her. She watches, breathing slow and steady. For what feels like forever but is probably more like three minutes, she waits, silent and unmoving. Then I hear the quiet but unmistakable sound that means she’s taken her shot.
Marco’s phone rings and I can clearly hear a voice cry out, “Thank you, DeVille!” as Ariana takes the gun apart and puts it back in the case.
She backs away from the edge, then stands and dusts the dirt off her clothes before walking back over to us. I’m in fucking awe. Marco is talking to this White guy, and I hear him say, ‘Clean it up,’ ‘Leave the girl at home next time, dipshit,’ and, ‘Compensation is expected.’ But I’m focused on Ariana, who looks at me anxiously. Shit, does she think this is too much for me? If her dad weren’t standing right here, I’d grab her and kiss the fuck out of her.
I almost do it anyway.
“You’re amazing. You know that, right?”
One side of her mouth raises in a smirk, and her eyes brighten.
Marco ends the call. Ariana turns toward him. “I fucking hope he agreed not to bring her ever again. She’s like twelve and looked scared to death even before I had to put a bullet between some dickhead’s eyes right next to her.”
“He did. You should see the money in your account within the hour.”
“I don’t even care about that. He should use it to pay for her goddamned therapy.”
“He can afford to do that and pay you for taking care of the problem caused by his own stupidity. Good work, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”
“Let’s. I have cupcakes to frost.”
God, she’s fucking perfect.