Chapter 11
Luciano
By the time I get home, it’s late. Like over my curfew late. Which is why it’s no surprise that I find my father, Dominic, waiting for me in the kitchen, arms crossed, with a stern expression marred all over his face.
“You missed dinner. Again. ”
I sigh, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “Sorry. Couldn’t be avoided. Study session went later than expected.”
“Your study sessions have gone late almost every day this week.” His tone is clipped but not accusatory. Yet. “You know how your father hates it when the whole family isn’t here for dinner.”
“Marcello skips it all the time.” I scoff.
“That’s because he’s working.”
“No, it’s because he’s a gym rat who prefers spending all his time inside the ring than spending it with his family. I was studying, Dad. Not working on my abs. That has to count for something.”
His gaze sharpens. “You don’t study.”
I flash him a cocky grin because he’s right. I’ve never studied for anything in my whole life.
“Stop busting my balls, Dad. You know what I mean. I was helping Frankie with her schoolwork. It’s my community service. You do want to see me graduate, don’t you?”
That gets him.
A muscle tics in his jaw before he finally exhales, relenting. “Fine. Just make sure you don’t skip the important meals. That means no tutoring on Sundays.”
“You got it.” I flash him a smile, ready to make my grand escape before he can grill me further. Unfortunately for me, his tattooed hand clamps around my forearm, stopping me mid-step.
“Why aren’t you in your school uniform?” His voice is deceptively casual, but his gaze is razor-sharp, scanning every inch of me. “And why do you look like you just got out of the shower?”
Fuck me and my mafia fathers who notice every little detail.
I school my features before answering. “Because I got my uniform dirty and had to change into my gym gear after I took a shower.”
“And how exactly did you get your clothes dirty?”
Because I came like a fucking chump from dry-humping alone, and the goddess that is Frankie O’Malley soaked my lap, too.
But since there’s no way I’m telling my father that, a lie will have to do.
“Some kid tripped and spilled his Red Bull all over me at the library. Honest mistake. Which is why I had to take a shower back at school and came home even later than usual. Any more questions, or can I go to my room now? Keeping on the straight and narrow is exhausting.”
I try to keep a straight face as the silence stretches between us for a beat.
“Fine.” His grip loosens, and I waste no time slipping away, heading straight to my room and locking the door before anyone else can try to debrief me.
I toss my bookbag onto the floor, striding toward the bathroom. Pulling open the side door, I peek into Enzo’s room, half-expecting to find him at his desk.
Of course, he’s not there. He’s smarter than me.
He shows up for dinner at seven on the dot, eats, makes some bullshit excuse about spending the night coding, then sneaks out using the tree by his window to meet up with his latest conquest—aka Father Torres.
I have no idea how much progress he’s made seducing the poor bastard. But knowing my twin, he’ll be balls deep inside his prey by the end of the week.
Me? I’m not so lucky.
I’m taking things slow. I have to. Frankie needs time. She can’t be pushed too far, too fast.
Not that I mind. For once, I like taking the scenic route.
Usually, when I hook up with a girl, it’s wham, bam, thank you, ma’am, followed by a quick ‘see ya.’ Half the time, I don’t even remember their names, let alone kiss them for hours on end.
However, with Frankie… I remember everything. Every pant. Every soft moan. Every hooded, uncertain gaze before she gives in. It’s become the way I measure the success of my tutoring.
And fuck if she isn’t an eager student.
Then again, I’m a damn good teacher, if I do say so myself.
In just a few weeks, Frankie went from an inexperienced little nun-to-be to a girl who kisses like she’s starving for it.
But today, she fucking surprised me. She came. Not only came but squirted all over my lap, just from grinding against me. And I almost fucking lost it.
Okay, not almost. I did lose it, coming hard just like she did. But who can blame me? By far, that was the sexiest thing that’s ever happened to me. And I have proof that it was the sexiest thing ever to happen to Frankie, too.
I shove a hand into my pocket, pull out her soaked panties, and bring them to my nose. One deep inhale later, my cock is rock hard.
Fuck me.
I fall onto my bed, pressing the cotton against my face as my free hand slides down my stomach, under the waistband of my gym sweats, my fingers eagerly wrapping themselves around my length.
Jacking off to memories of Frankie has become a nightly ritual, but tonight, I have a trophy—one that smells and tastes like her.
I stroke myself slowly at first, then faster, my grip tightening as I remember the way she moved on me. The way her breath hitched. The way she whimpered my name when she came.
Jesus fuck, Frankie.
With one final, punishing stroke, pleasure crashes over me, my release spilling hot onto my stomach.
I lay there for a moment, chest heaving, panting through the aftershocks.
It’s official. She’s the best fucking aphrodisiac there is.
I never come this fast. But there’s just something about Frankie. Maybe it’s her inexperience that gets me going. Or maybe it’s the challenge of competing with a higher power for her attention. Or maybe… Who the fucks knows? Maybe it’s a little bit of both.
Either way, it’s working for me. No strings attached is a given. That’s just how I roll. And knowing there’s no risk of Frankie catching feelings either only makes this easier.
She’s just… a smoking hot virgin letting me teach her everything filthy that comes to mind. What guy would say no to that?
Still, if she saw me right now, fisting my cock while sucking on her panties… Yeah, that might be a bit too much for someone as innocently inexperienced as Frances O’Malley.
Well, what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.
With a shit-eating grin, I get up from the bed, carefully stashing my prized possession somewhere where neither Lourdes nor my mother will ever find it. Then, I grab a towel and head into the bathroom to clean myself up.
My phone buzzes just as I’m wiping myself down, Remus’s scowling face flashing across the screen.
“Hey, Remus. Past your bedtime, isn’t it?” I tease after answering the call. It’s nine p.m. here, which means it’s around three a.m. in London.
“Stop being a little shite, ” he grumbles, his thick, British accent distorting the word shit. “Just checking in since you’ve been radio silent for a week.”
I snort, putting him on speaker while I finish cleaning up. “Has it been that long?” I arch a brow. “Huh. Didn’t notice. But apparently, you did. Miss me that much, huh, fucker?”
“Bugger off. Your brother’s the one hassling me for updates. No idea why he won’t just pick up the phone and call you himself.”
“Jude calls,” I mutter, tossing the towel into the hamper. “Just at the most inconvenient fucking times.”
By inconvenient, I mean when I’m sneaking into his apartment to corrupt Frankie.
“Let me guess,” Remus drawls. “You and the would-be nun are fucking.”
“Not yet,” I smirk. “But all in good time, my English friend. All in good time.”
“Didn’t you tell me she’s an orphan? Sounds like she’ll be a clinger for sure. You sure you want to get yourself in that kind of mess?”
“First, sensitive much?” I chuckle. “And second, we’ve established rules. Not that it matters since she hates my guts on principle alone. No need to fear any clingers here.”
“Better be damn sure about that. And wrap your shit up. You don’t want to knock up a nun.”
A cold shiver runs through me.
“Don’t say shit like that. The universe might hear you.”
“Universe, schmuniverse,” he retorts. “We make our own destiny.”
“I hear that.” I laugh just as I hear my brother’s bedroom window creak open. “Gotta bounce. Tell Jude all’s good at the home front and give Mina a hug for me. You all still coming for Thanksgiving at the end of the month, right?”
“Do we have a choice?” Remus grumbles. “Bloody sacrilege, celebrating such a shitty holiday.”
“Can’t wait to see you again, sunshine,” I tease. “Miss your grumbling commentary.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you little shite. ” He hangs up without so much as a goodbye, which is customary Remus’s behavior. I smile at my reflection before heading into Enzo’s room.
I find him already at his desk, screens filled with code.
“Had fun?”
He spins in his chair, scowling. “It’s nine o’clock, and I’m home. What do you think?”
I drop onto his bed, hands behind my head, legs crossed at the ankles. “Looks like you’re suffering from a major case of blue balls. Not getting any? Father Torres giving you a hard time?” I laugh. “Not as easy as you thought, huh?”
“Motherfucker thinks he’s asexual when I know for a fact he fucking feels something for me.”
“Feels?” I arch a brow. “When did ‘fucking’ start involving feelings?”
He turns back to his computer, fingers flying over the keyboard. “Forget it.”
“Wait… hold on… you’re not actually starting to like this guy, are you?”
“I said forget it, Lucky.”
I jump off his bed and swing his chair around to face me, gripping the armrests.
“Enzo, he’s a fucking priest,” I remind him.
“And Frankie’s going to be a nun. Your point?”
“Going to. Maybe. In the very fucking distant future. She’s not one now. Your guy… he’s already taken vows, Enzo. You know how these religious types are. They take that shit seriously. It’s like their own omertà . Once they say the words, there’s no turning back.”
“I know!” He pushes me away and starts pacing the room. “Don’t you think I fucking know that?”
A frown tugs at my mouth as I watch my twin slowly unravel before me.
“Holy shit. You already like him.” The realization hits like a gut punch. “He was a mark. A toy to play with. You can’t actually catch feelings for him. That defeats the whole fucking point!”
“Well, maybe I can’t be like you. Maybe I want to feel. Ever think of that?” he snaps at me.
I see the tension in his jaw, the frustration so clear in his eyes. I close the gap between us and grip his shoulders.
“If that’s what you want… if you’re looking for something real, then fuck, Enzo… you shouldn’t have set your sights on a priest. He’ll never choose you. He already made his choice to you know who,” I say, glancing toward the ceiling as if the big guy upstairs is actually listening. “He’s got a man, brother. And he’s never gonna give him up for you.”
“You don’t know that.”
I wish I didn’t. Especially when I’m watching my twin tear himself apart over a game he can’t win.
“Facts, Enzo. What do we always say? Facts are tangible. Numbers are real. They can always be counted on. This… whatever feelings you think you might have for Alejandro? It won’t end well. You’ll be the one left bleeding. Fact.”
“What if it’s worth it? What if the pain is worth it?” He eyes me intently.
“It never is. No amount of pain is worth your sanity. And you will lose your mind when he chooses an invisible deity over you.”
His shoulders sag as he drops to sit on the edge of his bed. With his head in his hands, he says in a raw voice, “I think it might be too late.”
“It’s only too late if you say it is. Put some distance between you. Ghost him if you have to. Just do something before it gets worse,” I warn.
Enzo nods, but he looks so defeated that I’m unsure if he even heard me.
I decide to give him his space, knowing he’ll need time to figure out his own exit strategy from the clusterfuck he just got himself into. But just as I reach the door, he calls out the one name that halts me in my tracks.
“What about Frankie?” he asks, her name hanging in the air like poison. “You really don’t have any feelings for her?”
“No,” I say, steady. Unshaken.
“So you’ll be perfectly fine when she walks away from whatever little arrangement you two have to take her vows?”
“Couldn’t care less.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
Before Enzo can call me on my bullshit, I walk out of his room and shut the door behind me.
Will I be okay if Frankie chooses a life of celibacy and prayer over our experiment?
Hell to the fucking no.
It would mean I failed. That I sucked at corrupting her.
And I don’t fail. Ever.
I will corrupt her.
Come hell or high water, Frankie O’Malley will scream out my name long before she ever whispers another fucking amen.
Bet.
With the box I purchased earlier this morning hidden behind my back, my eyes scan the school hallway, searching for the blonde vixen that kept me awake for most of the night. A lazy smile crests my lips when I see her through the crowd.
Frankie tries to keep her head down, doing her best to go unnoticed, but how she manages that is beyond me.
How do people not see the bombshell walking among them? Are they blind?
Then again, I suffered from that same blindness for years. From elementary school all the way to high school, I never really saw Frankie. It took her punching me square in the face our senior year for me to finally open my eyes.
I see her just fine now.
I see her everywhere.
Every room she steps into, she owns, even if she doesn’t realize it.
When her head lifts just slightly, and her gaze catches mine, the faint smile tugging at her lips pulls at something deep inside me. I pretend not to feel my heart tighten or its strings being pulled and flash her a mischievous smirk, tilting my head to signal her to follow me. Her brows knit in curiosity, but she follows without hesitation.
I slip into an empty classroom, set the box down on the teacher’s desk, and move back to the door. When she reaches me, I catch her wrist, tug her inside, and close the door behind her.
“Is everything alright?” she asks, concern lacing her tone.
“It will be in a minute,” I groan, too agitated for her not to notice.
“Lucky—”
“Give me your calculus textbook,” I interrupt.
“What?”
“Just give it to me, Frankie.”
Still confused, she pulls the textbook from her bag and hands it over. I flip to a problem I know she can solve in her head and ask for the answer. She lifts her gaze up to the ceiling in thought before responding with the correct answer.
“Good.” I grin, setting the book aside and grabbing the box. “Now, open this.”
She chuckles, still obviously puzzled but amused none the same. “You’re acting weird today. More than usual,” she says while opening the box, her eyes immediately lighting up when she sees what’s waiting for her inside. “Oh, my God! A double fudge cupcake?! How did you know it was my favorite?!”
How did I know? Easy. Frankie has a sweet tooth for all things chocolate, so anything double fudge was a safe bet.
“Take a bite.”
“Now?” She laughs, tossing me a look like I’m asking her to commit a felony on school grounds.
Instead of answering, I pick up the cupcake and hold it to her lips. She takes a small bite, and the moment the rich chocolate hits her tongue, her eyelids flutter shut as a soft moan escapes her.
That’s it. That’s all I can handle.
That moan—sexy as hell.
That look on her face—orgasmic.
My self-control—gone.
I set the cupcake back in the box, perch it on the desk, and charge at her.
“I’ve tutored you. I’ve fed you. Now, I get my prize.”
I crowd her against the wall, capturing her lips with mine. A sigh of relief escapes me when she parts them for me, letting me in, welcoming me.
Her fingers weave into my hair as I drink her in. She tastes of decadent chocolate—rich, sinful—but beneath that, there’s her. Something sweeter than any dessert money could buy. Something far more addictive, too. Her little moans are all for me now, and I swear, I could get drunk off this.
When the school bell rings, it shatters the moment, and I don’t think I’ve ever hated a sound more.
“That was… unexpected,” she pants, her lips swollen, eyelids heavy.
“Good. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m anything but predictable.”
“I’ll make a note of that.” She licks her lips, and my gaze snaps to the tip of her tongue.
Fuck. I’m hard. And I’ve got an English Lit test which, judging by that bell, I’m already late for. But I don’t seem to care. Not when Frankie is looking up at me like that.
“I… I should go,” she says, still flustered. “Class awaits.” I nod and step back, my hands fisting at my sides just to keep from pulling her in again, keeping her here for the rest of the day. “Thanks for the lesson, the cupcake, and the kiss,” she teases.
I’ve never been thanked for a kiss before, so the tension in my body eases just a little. But when she turns for the door, my hand moves of its own accord, catching hers.
“Have you ever played hooky before?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“No. And I’m not about to start today either.” She laughs but doesn’t let go of my hand.
“Are you sure? We could have a lot of fun in this room,” I coax with a wink.
“As tempting as that is, I really need to go. I’m a good girl, remember?”
“Good girls don’t go around throwing punches,” I remind with a smug smile.
“They do when jerks like you deserve it.”
“Touché.” I chuckle but then eat the distance between us, lifting her chin so I can look at her gorgeous face for another second.
“Still, being good is overrated. You sure you don’t want to stay and be bad? With me?”
Hope stirs wings inside my chest when her gaze meets mine, something unreadable flickering deep in her eyes. Then, before I can even react, she rises onto her tiptoes, leaving a tender kiss on my jaw, then another on my cheek, and finally brushing the corner of my lips. My whole body tenses as I wait for her to kiss me again, only to open my eyes and find her already at the door.
“You’re bad enough for the both of us. You don’t need me for that.” She winks before walking out, leaving me with nothing but the taste of chocolate and the ache of wanting something far more decadent than that.
She said I don’t need her.
Then why does losing her already feel like a foregone conclusion?
And better yet… why does that fucking bother me?