Chapter 4 – Marco
“Oh, my goodness. What smells so good?”
“We’re making cat yoyo pepe,” Alessia says with enthusiasm.
“Cacio e pepe,” Bea clarifies.
“It’s from Rome. Just like you, daddy!”
Aurora rushes toward me, and I pick her up.
“That’s right.”
“They were learning all about Italy in school today, so we thought we’d make a recipe from there.”
I chat with my girls for a little bit, but then I join Bea in the kitchen. And I dip my pinky into the cheese and sauce she’s making.
“Hey!” she scolds.
“Sorry! I couldn’t help myself although you have stiff competition. My nonna made the most delicious cacio e pepe.” But when I taste it, I find that I’m singing a different tune. “Oh, never mind. That’s delicious.”
She curtsies with a spatula in her hand. “Thank you, thank you.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Um, no. I don’t think so. But I did want to warn you—” She gets closer. “Alessia included me on that family tree of hers. I promise I didn’t tell her to. But I didn’t tell her to erase it either.”
“I think that’s sweet.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, why not? I mean, you’re around all of the time. I don’t see why they wouldn’t see you as family.”
“But that doesn’t complicate us.”
I sigh. “Well, it just affirms how delicate we need to be.”
“Yeah, I agree. Oh! And I wanted to tell you that we bumped into my mother at the grocery store.”
“You went to the store?”
“Yeah. Did you honestly think you had Pecorino Romano in the fridge?”
“I don’t know. Just let me know how much I owe you.”
“Okay. But that’s not the point. She wasn’t the warmest to the girls. And they even asked me why she was so mean.”
“Why would she act like that?”
“Um . . . she isn’t the biggest supporter of me ‘playing mommy,’ as she puts it.”
“But you’re not. You’re just helping me out. Plus, you like being around them, right?”
“Of course. I adore them. This isn’t about my feelings. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I told them that she was just having a bad day.”
“Does she know?” I gesture to myself and then to her.
“No. But I’m going to tell her before she hears it from somebody else.”
“I think that’s probably a good idea. Why make it seem like a secret when it isn’t . . . well, to some people.” I look over at my children.
“Right.”
At that moment, I desperately wanted to kiss her supple lips—just like any other guy could to his girlfriend after a rough day at the office. But I resist. Our situation is unique, and I’m not like any other guy. I’m a single dad who has to protect his daughters’ feelings.
However, none of that stops me from admiring her ass in the tight black jeans she’s wearing.
One night, when she was sore from our previous shenanigans, I asked if I could just rub myself against her butt cheeks, and she agreed. That was another instance in which her back required cleanup.
I’m getting hard just thinking about it, and I have to cross my legs to hide it.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, why?”
“I’ve never seen you sit like that.”
“Oh, uh . . . I had a hard day at the gym. Leg day.”
“Ah.” I can tell she doesn’t fully believe me. “Well, dinner is ready.”
I walk as quickly as I can to the table, and she puts a plate in front of me—still looking skeptical or worried.
But I get to work shoveling the tasty food into my mouth. The little taste I had was good, but the complete dish was exquisite.
“So, good. Thank you, Bea.”
“No problem.”
“Girls, what do you think?”
They both stick their thumbs up.
“A top review!”
We all laugh.
After dinner, we clean up together, snuggle on the couch, and watch television.
Within a few minutes, the girls are up and sitting closer to the screen. That leaves me with the ability to get a little naughty with Bea.
There’s a large blanket over us, and I waste no time unzipping her jeans and sneaking my hand into her underwear.
I can tell she’s been wanting me just as much as I’ve wanted her because she’s already delightfully wet.
Then, I feel for her clit, and I rub it until she throws her head back and bites her lower lip to conceal her moans.
And that did tide me over, but I’m counting down the time until the girls have to be put to bed. I need more.
So, I rushed to get them dressed in their pajamas, brushed their teeth, and tucked into bed.
“Goodnight, love bug. Goodnight, cookie monster. I love you!”
Their bedroom door is almost closed when I hear, “Daddy!”
I sigh but open it again. “Yeah?”
“Randall,” Alessia says, holding up her stuffed otter.
“Goodnight, Randall.”
After that, it’s go time.
“Did you get them down okay?”
“Yeah.”
She’s still on the couch, and she can’t get another word before I am on top of her.
Finally, I can kiss her freely, and I take full advantage of that. Her hands are on either side of my face.
“Should we go upstairs?”
I don’t answer. I just stand up, pick her up, carry up the stairs, and then set her down on the bed.
She shimmies out of her clothes, and I make sure to get a good look at her gorgeous naked body. Her alabaster skin almost looks too perfect to be real.
“Marco, you’re killing me here.”
I do as she asks, and I lay down and pull her over me. We continue to kiss deeply until I just can’t take it anymore.
I asked her to get protection out of my dresser and put it on. Then, she guides me inside of her with a whimper.
“Are you okay?” I lift my head up to check.
“I’m fine.” She pushes my chest back down and starts riding back and forth against me.
But right before I’m about to come, she pushes herself away.
“Wha—”
“It’s called edging. Have you ever tried it?”
I don’t want to seem unhip, but I haven’t. “No.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
She continues the same process a few times—thrusting until I’m about to bust and then stopping suddenly. But the time she keeps going . . . oh, my God. I swear my eyes rolled back inside my head.
“Told you,” she whispered in my ear.