10. Theo
The waitress took us to a table, the restaurant dark due to its aesthetic, the chandeliers glowing as they hung from the vaulted ceilings.
We sat down, and the waitress placed the menus in front of us before she walked away.
Axel immediately grabbed the menu. “I wonder what the specials are.”
“You don’t know?”
He shook his head. “All I know is whatever I pick, it’s gonna be goooood.” He turned the menu over to check the back, but it was blank.
“Can’t she just cook for you at home?”
He chuckled. “With two demons running around? I wish.”
“Is Dante watching them tonight?”
“Yep. Good ol’ Grandpa.”
“He doesn’t seem like the babysitting type.”
“Well, he knows he’s our full-time babysitter for all the shit he pulled.” He looked at the menu again. “I might get one of those smoked old fashioneds. You know, where they take off the glass, and then all the smoke comes out…pretty cool.”
“I’ll get one too.”
The waitress returned, and we ordered our drinks.
“What are the specials?” Axel asked.
The waitress listed the three, one with fish, a short rib ravioli, and then a vegetarian couscous dish.
“Hmm.” Axel looked at the menu. “Fuck, what am I gonna do?”
“It’s a big decision,” I said sarcastically. “Take your time.”
“What are you getting, asshole?”
“Probably the chicken. I like the sauce she makes.”
Axel continued to look at the menu. “This is hard.”
The waitress returned with our drinks, and when she removed the glass covering, the smoke rose.
“That’s sick.” Axel brought the glass to his lips and took a drink.
Ever since Axel had settled down and left the game, he’d become more childlike, caring about things that he would have found insignificant beforehand. We had less in common now, but our bond was still tight like a taut rubber band.
“How are your parents?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Things are good, but it’ll always be a little…strained. You know? They feel guilty, but there are times when I get pissed off about the whole thing. And then I need space. I don’t think it’ll ever be what it used to be. It’s been too long, and too much shit has happened. But I’m happy that we’ve buried the hatchet, so I don’t have to feel guilty when they’re gone.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not the type to hold a grudge, but this one is hard to let go.”
“That’s fair.”
He looked at the menu again. “Fuck, I gotta figure this out.”
“Why don’t you take something to go?”
He looked up at me and gave me a slow nod. “You’re a smart man, Theo. Very smart.”
“I know.”
He chuckled slightly and looked at the menu again.
“Why is she working tonight anyway? She’s the owner. Shouldn’t someone else be slaving away back there?”
“She likes to come down a couple nights a month. It’s the best way to see how the restaurant’s doing. She likes cooking and being a part of the team. And I think the biggest reason is she gets tired of being a full-time mom. I think she likes to have some space and do her own thing.”
I nodded in agreement.
“I love my babies more than life itself, but they really changed everything. Though, the idea of them needing me less as they get older fills me with a sadness that hurts more than a bullet in the arm.”
Once upon a time, I wanted a family. The quiet life that he had. But now, I couldn’t imagine it ever. I was exactly where I belonged. This was the path I was destined to take. What happened in the past…was just a lapse in judgment.
When the waitress came back, Axel ordered two things, one to take home.
“I’ll take the chicken.” I handed over the menu.
Now that the stressful part of the evening had passed, Axel sipped his drink and relaxed. “How are things with Astrid?”
“It’s not a relationship, Axel.”
“Did I say it was?”
“It’s implied.”
“Fine,” he said. “How’s your little affair going?”
“It’s not an affair if her husband knows about it.”
He cocked his head. “But does he know about it?”
I had no idea what she told him. It was none of my business.
“I think if he knew, you would know,” he said. “You aren’t the least bit curious who he is?”
“No.” I had no respect for him for hurting his wife the way he did. She was one hell of a catch, and he was an idiot to squander her. She deserved better, and it was a shame she didn’t believe that herself.
“You guys never talk about him?”
“She said she doesn’t want to talk about him. And when I’m fucking a woman, I don’t like to think about other men—or other men she may be fucking.”
“If you didn’t care about her, you wouldn’t care if she’s fucking someone else.”
“I never said I cared that she is,” I snapped. “I just don’t want to think about it while it’s happening.” I grabbed my glass and took a drink, finding the smoke taste tame compared to the heaviness of a cigar.
“How long do you think this is going to go on?”
I shrugged.
“You aren’t really a one-woman kind of guy, so this is interesting.”
“Who said I’m a one-woman kind of guy now?”
“So you’re sleeping with other people?” he asked incredulously.
No. “Yes.” I looked him right in the eye and lied to his face, something I’d never done before. “Her husband is only gone a couple days a week, so the rest of that time, we don’t speak.”
He gave a slight nod in understanding. “You want my advice?”
“Not even a little bit, Axel.”
He acted like I hadn’t spoken and continued. “At some point, this guy is gonna figure out who’s fucking his wife. I don’t care if he asked for an open marriage. When he realizes his woman is fucking none other than the infamous Skull King, it’s gonna dent his ego quite a bit. It’s gonna open a can of gunfire and grenades. You’ve got enough on your plate, Theo. You don’t need this added to the top. So, if this woman really means nothing to you, then ditch her before it’s too late.”
“You think I’m afraid of anyone, Axel?”
“No,” he said. “But I know you don’t like bullshit, and this sounds like it could be alot of bullshit.”
“I’m not worried about it.”
“Because you like her?—”
“Axel.” I gave him a glare across the table. “I don’t do back-to-backs because I’m not interested in having any kind of a relationship with a woman. And even though they say they’re fine with that, they’re never fine with that. They sleep over once and then try to leave their shit there so they have a reason to come back. But this is a unique situation because she’s married, and I like that she’s married because it makes my life a lot simpler. I can have a relationship with her without having to deal with all the bullshit that comes with an actual relationship, like commitment, the future, all that nonsense. Maybe I’ll have to deal with her husband at some point, but that’s a much simpler problem than dealing with a woman asking me to be something more than a fuck buddy.”
Axel listened to all of that with a straight face then gave a nod. “So, you do want a relationship.”
“Did you not listen to what I just said?—”
“Icanhavearelationshipwithherwithouthavingtodealwithallthebullshitofan actualrelationship. That’s what you just said.”
My eyes narrowed.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, man. You’ve been hurt once…and you’ve never gotten over it.”
I grabbed my glass and took another drink, washing down the annoyance and the anger.
“Think about what I said. Let this go on too long, and it’s gonna be more trouble than it’s worth.” He was probably going to say more, but then the waitress arrived with our plates. She set them down in front of each of us before she walked away.
Axel looked down at his steaming hot food. “Damn, this looks good.” He grabbed his fork and dug in. “I still would have married her even if her pussy weren’t so damn pretty, because that hot piece of ass knows her way around a kitchen.”
When we were finished and Axel had his to-go container with his other meal, Scarlett emerged from the back, her hair pulled back in a bun so it could be tucked underneath her chef’s hat. She didn’t wear her apron, but she had splashes of food on her shirt and jeans like a mess was unavoidable during the dinnertime rush.
I saw her first and smirked as she approached.
“You like your food, boys?”
“Yes,” I said. “Axel said he still would have married you even if your pussy weren’t so pretty because you can cook so well.”
Scarlett crossed her arms and gave Axel a hard stare.
“Baby, come on,” Axel said. “Guys talk.”
“About that?” she asked, shocked.
“I’ve only said good things,” he said. “Very good things.”
Her angry look was already waning.
He rose from his chair and pulled her close for a kiss, not the least bit dissuaded by the daggers in her eyes or how hot and sweaty she looked. His hand snaked down to her ass, and he gripped it in view of all the tables like she wore a black cocktail dress instead of jeans. “Some guys brag about money, some brag about their cars, and I like to brag about you.”
She planted her hand on his chest and gently pushed him back. “I should get back.”
“Come on, baby,” Axel said. “Have a drink.”
“I can’t,” she said. “They need me in the kitchen.”
“You own the place. You can do whatever you want.”
“I’ll see you at home, okay?” She gave him a quick kiss before she walked off.
Axel watched her go, staring at her ass until she was officially out of sight. “Thanks for throwing me under the bus.”
“You needed to be taught a lesson.”
“What lesson?”
“Not to talk about your woman’s bits to other men.”
“You aren’t other men. You’re my brother.”
I’d once gone on a date with her, and she could have shown me those bits at the end of the night if I’d let it happen. But I was too loyal to Axel to hurt him like that. He seemed to have forgotten all of that over the years because he didn’t appear to see me as a threat anymore. For at least a year, he’d been visibly uncomfortable whenever we were in the same room together, when I just hugged her.
“You want to hit up a bar?” Axel asked.
“Don’t you have to get home to the kids?”
“Nope. Grandpa’s on the clock until I’m good and ready.”
I never texted Astrid whenever she’d said she wouldn’t be available for a while. It was an open marriage, but a marriage all the same, and I respected the boundaries that she’d never laid out. During those breaks, she belonged to him—and I accepted that.
I dropped my responsibilities when she was free, so when she was unavailable, I threw myself back into work. A lot of shit required my attention that I’d blown off to give my full attention to her. I had two motherfuckers to kill, and it was time to get my hands bloody.
“One of our snitches in the Brotherhood says Bolton usually wines and dines his clients at a few favorite spots across Europe,” Octavio said. “And I guess he’s got a big contract with Claude Vanderbilt. He wants a lot of people dead.”
Claude was in the trafficking game. He had a worldwide organization that operated in several countries. He was always changing his tactics and channels because the authorities were always hot on his tail. He’d managed to shake them for decades, always one step ahead. “You really have to be a scumbag to take a contract from that asshole.” I smoked my cigar as I sat across from him at the table. “Who does he want dead?”
“I’m not sure, but he’s got a list,” Octavio said. “Our informant says they’re supposed to meet for dinner next week to finalize the details.”
“Out in the open?”
“I guess Bolton considers public dining a flex.”
“What did Fender say?”
Octavio sat on the couch with a cigar between his fingertips. “He would ask some old contacts what they know—but only as a favor to you. He said he’s made it very clear he’s walked away.”
“That’s bullshit,” I said. “He knows you’re never really out once you’re in.”
“He said he’ll call you when he knows something.”
“Good.” I took another puff of the cigar and let the smoke rise to the ceiling. It’d been almost a week since I’d spoken to Astrid, and the withdrawals had started to kick in. I didn’t have a replacement in my bed, so when she was gone, I was alone. She probably fucked her husband when we were apart, so she didn’t feel the same drought.
Octavio left, and I remained in the armchair, looking at the painting across from me, the painting of the changeling. I’d stared at it so many times but continued to see new details. It was a creature clearly out of place, so distinct it couldn’t blend into the world it was supposed to invade, and that was exactly how I felt every day of my fucking life.
I used to be someone else, but I’d changed.
I’d changed a long time ago, ten years, a fucking decade…but I still remembered.
I also saw her when I looked at the painting, someone who was forced to change against her will. But then she embraced that change—and made it her own.
At that moment, my phone lit up with a message. It wasn’t from one of my guys or Axel.
It was her.
Whatareyoudoing?
I hated open-ended questions like that, but it didn’t feel like a nuisance coming from her. Staringatyourpaintings.
Wouldyouliketostareatsomethingelse?
My cock instantly came alive in my sweatpants, picturing her bent over the couch with her beautiful ass on display, looking back at me with a sexy taunt. Getoverhere. It’d been the longest stretch of silence we’d had. So long, I’d started to wonder if she and her husband had decided to be monogamous again. Would she let me know? Or was I unworthy of a notice of eviction?
ShouldIpackabag?
Youdon’tneedclothesinmyhouse—ifthatanswersyourquestion.
Her messages went silent, and her dots disappeared.
My attention turned back to the painting once more…and I waited.
It seemed like she’d gone through a dry spell as well because she was all over me the second she walked inside. She rose on her tallest tiptoes and reached her arms around my neck as far as the distance would allow. Her lips were anxious on mine, kissing me like a lover she hadn’t seen in months rather than days.
I hated to bend my neck down so far or strain hers in the opposite direction, so I scooped her into my arms and elevated her to my height, holding her like she weighed nothing, my hands gripping that summer-peach of an ass.
She hooked her arms fully around my neck, and she kissed me slowly but passionately, giving me her tongue before I could give her mine. Her fingers dug into my hair, and she pressed her tits against my bare chest. “I missed you.” She spoke against my lips, barely breaking our embrace to whisper those words to me, like the last thing she wanted was a response.
I sat in the middle of the couch and felt her weight on my lap, my hard dick like a log of firewood between us. If she dragged her pussy down fast enough, she would light the match and burn us with the flames.
I yanked her jacket off her arms then tugged her shirt over her head, revealing the black bra that pushed her tits together and made a noticeable line of cleavage in the center. For a woman so small, she had an impressive rack. My dick complemented my size, but she was the opposite.
I unclasped the bra and let her tits come free, the little nipples in the centers hard like diamonds. I palmed one in my hand before I leaned in and sprinkled her neck with my hard kisses, smelling the scent that clung to my sheets after she left.
Her arms hooked around my neck, and she brought us close together, her nipples dragging against my bare chest, warm and soft like rose petals. Her mouth came down on mine, and she kissed me with a moan, drunk on the wine of our passion.
My dick was so fucking hard.
I paid women a lot of money to give me head like it was their damn honor, but she was more enthused than all of them combined. Whenever I was in the mood to fuck a woman in the ass, I paid for that, because no woman wanted my big dick at their back entrance unless they were being paid a fortune to tolerate it.
But based on the way she wanted me, she might do it for free.
I tugged my sweatpants and boxers down so my dick was free then helped her get her jeans and panties off. Piece by piece, everything came off, and then it was just us together, skin to skin, heat against heat.
She lifted herself and pointed me at her entrance.
I grabbed her hips and steadied her when I felt the warmth of her soft folds directly against my skin. “Slow down, sweetheart.” As much as I wanted to fuck her without a condom, that simply wasn’t possible for us. I hadn’t gone bareback with a woman in ten years. I’d forgotten how good it was…until the head of my dick grazed her entrance.
I pulled a wrapper from the pocket of my sweatpants then rolled the condom down to my base, leaving plenty of room at the tip because she always made me come hard. I guided her back onto me and pulled her down, sealing my head in the tight entrance before I tugged her down, forcing my way into her tightness the way Alexander the Great forced his way into Persia. My hands gripped her ass, and I brought her farther down, stopping when I felt the limit. I couldn’t fit fully inside her, but I couldn’t recall a time I could fit fully inside any woman. Being well-endowed made it easy to bring a woman to a climax, but I wished I could pound into a woman until I was balls deep.
Her breathing picked up, and she planted her palms against my chest to balance herself. There was a wince in her expression and a crack in her voice when she slid as far as she could go, feeling the pain of my intrusion but not asking me to stop. Her nails clawed into me slightly, like a cat about to take a deadly swipe in a fight.
Against the back of the couch, I looked at the petite woman on my lap, the sexy little thing who knew how to fuck. Why her husband wanted to fuck other women besides her was beyond me. My hands squeezed the perfect ass I wanted to take a bite out of, and I slowly lifted her up, bringing her back to my head before lowering her down again. One of my arms was almost the size of her head, and I lifted tractor tires as part of my workout, so Astrid was like a five-pound dumbbell in comparison. I lifted her up again, my fingers sprawled out across her ass cheeks, sliding in and out of her tightness.
Her hands were planted against my chest for support as she rose up and down, rolling her hips at the end to catch my length nice and deep. Confidence and desire burned in her eyes like my fireplace in the midst of winter, her voice crackling as she consumed the log between her legs. Her breaths grew deeper as she continued to move, more enthused but also tired from lifting herself up so high and never letting herself rest on her way down—otherwise, my dick would hurt too much.
I started to do more of the work and lifted her with my arms, not that I minded. Having her little body on top of my mine, squeezing my fat dick into her little channel, was damn sexy. Soon, we were both flushed red with arousal, her breaths shaky, my nostrils flared, the pleasure so good it made us both tighten.
I knew she was almost there. I’d fucked her enough times to notice all her tells. The way she bit her bottom lip more and more. The way her nipples hardened even though the temperature of the room rose to a sweltering heat. We moved harder and faster together, and my cock was anxious to fill the tip of the condom, but damn, what I wouldn’t give to fill her little pussy with everything I had, to make myself at home in another man’s palace.
Just when the fire spiked in my veins, her nails started to drag across my chest, and she squeezed me with the strength of a boa constrictor, gripping my dick harder than a man’s handshake. There were tears and whimpers, marks on my skin from her scratches, echoes of her pleasure bouncing off all of my walls.
I couldn’t take it anymore. Her natural sultriness, the deep curve in her back, the way she loved it when my dick hurt. She’d been all over me the moment she’d walked in the door—and now her cream was all over me too. I could feel it building up on my balls. I tugged her up and down harder, my breaths elevated in a heated frenzy.
“Fuck, your dick is even bigger.”
I didn’t need another reason to come, but she gave me a reason to come harder. I gripped her and forced her down onto my length, ignoring the hiss of pain from between her clenched teeth. My cock twitched and throbbed as it filled the condom that caught my seed, but I pretended it wasn’t there, that it was just me and her.
Our dirty plates from dinner were in the other room behind the closed door. I’d sent off a text to George a while ago to let him know he could come fetch it. Like a mouse, he moved in and out without making a sound.
The curtains were still open, and rain splattered the window, the little drops like music in the quiet room. I lay in bed with Astrid, her beautiful body naked beside mine under the sheets. Her bag was on the armchair in the corner.
Her eye makeup was smeared from the various rendezvous that had taken place from the study to the bedroom, and even though she would probably be mortified if she knew how she looked, there was something about it that I liked. Maybe because I was the reason the black color bled down her face…because of the tears.
I liked her without makeup too, first thing in the morning after she woke up. Her eyes looked different when they were well-rested. They had a different kind of shine to them, like the morning light on a summer day.
All those thoughts swirled through my head as I stared at her.
Her eyes gently flicked back and forth between mine as she absorbed my stare the way a cat absorbed the sun. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.” My eyes were still focused on her face, her high cheekbones, her full lips. She was a painter, but she could easily be the subject of any masterpiece. I could picture her in a painting, her naked body wrapped up in cream-colored sheets, looking out the window as the sun poked through the rain clouds.
“Has…your size been an issue before?”
“My size?” My thoughts were elsewhere, imagining that painting on my wall in my study, her beauty replacing the haunting imaging of the changeling.
“You know…” She glanced down to the sheets at my waist.
It took me a moment to understand. “It’s not for everyone.”
“So, it’s affected your relationships?”
“I would say it’s affected my fees.” I’d only been in one relationship my whole life, and she’d handled it like a pro.
“Your fees?”
“What escorts charge me.”
She gave a slow nod. “Aren’t those women professionals?”
“Yes. But depending on what I want, they need to be fairly compensated.” I had more money than I could spend, so I didn’t care about the price. Perhaps that was why I was a popular client. I’d heard through the grapevine that some of the escorts fought over who got to service me if one of my preferred escorts was unavailable.
“Like what?”
“Well, I like to fuck a woman in the ass. That’s a big ask in my circumstance.”
The discomfort was in her eyes, so my choice of partners still bothered her. She did her best to hide it, but I knew her tells too well now. “I see.” Her eyes traveled slightly down, looking at my chest instead of my eyes, her thoughts drifting elsewhere.
“I’d love to fuck you in the ass.”
Her eyes immediately shot back to mine.
“If you’re into that.”
“I-I don’t think I am.”
“It sounds like you’ve never done it.”
The hesitation remained in her eyes. “No. It’s never come up.”
“Good to know.”
Her eyes were on mine, like she wanted to say something, but she chose to keep it to herself.
“Does my size bother you?”
“No,” she said immediately. “I just wish… Never mind.”
“Tell me.”
“It doesn’t matter?—”
“Tell me.”
Her eyes turned away again. “I just wish we didn’t have to wear anything. It’s been a long time since I’ve done the condom thing, and it would be nice to really feel you.”
Heat flushed through my body because just the thought enticed my flesh. I couldn’t remember how good it felt because it’d been so long. Even with escorts who insisted they were clean, I still wore protection because you couldn’t always trust a sex worker.
“To feel you come inside me…”
I released a slow breath as my chest tightened, the taunt hitting me deep in my bones. It was practically dirty talk. But if her husband was sleeping around and coming home to her, it was too risky. “That would be nice.”
“Maybe…we could do that?” She looked at me with an air of hopefulness.
My eyes watched hers. “No.”
“My husband has always been a clean freak. I’m not worried about him?—”
“No.”
Her eyes shifted away. “Because you’re sleeping with other people…”
I let her make that assumption because it was better for her to believe that lie than to know the truth. “As much as I wish things were different, they aren’t.” My hand slid into her hair, and I cradled her face close to mine, her neck so small I could snap it in two with just my grip. “But it’s enough.”
My alarm didn’t wake her up the next morning.
My sleep schedule was all over the place because sometimes I was up at the crack of dawn, and sometimes I was out all night. Instead of embracing sleep as a necessity, I regarded it as a luxury, one of the few luxuries I couldn’t afford.
The sound didn’t wake her up, and I hit the gym down the hall. Instead of taking the time to travel to the gym every morning, George had had a private gym built into my home, so my commute was a short walk. I never had to wait to use a machine or weight set. It was all for me, and that made it easier to maintain the standards I set for myself. It was a lot easier to scare the shit out of grown men when you were nearly two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle.
When I came back to the bedroom, she was still in bed, right in the center like it was her place instead of mine. The sheets were pulled over her shoulders, and she was on my pillow, like she reached for me absent-mindedly while she slept.
I got into the shower and prepared for the day. I shaved at the sink and dried off before I walked into the bedroom.
She was awake, sitting at the stool in front of her partially completed artwork, wearing nothing but her underwear and the stained apron George had provided for her. Her hair was pulled back in a light bun to keep it out of her face, the sunlight coming through the windows because she’d opened the curtains. She didn’t notice me right away, not until I opened the drawer of my dresser and pulled out a pair of boxers. “Morning.”
“Morning.” I walked over to her and looked at the painting, seeing the vague details of a woman sitting in a café alone, rain splattered all over the windows beside her. It was hazy, and the table was floating without legs. There wasn’t a lot of context to the moment—but there was a moment.
“I’m still working on it.” She cleaned her brush in the water.
“I like what I see.”
She forced a smile. “You’re sweet.”
“I’m not the kind of man who says what you want to hear, sweetheart.”
She set down the brush and looked up at me.
“Just remember that.” I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
Her eyes closed slowly and stayed that way when I pulled away. It took her a second to overcome the heat in our kiss, despite how short and simple it was. The intensity I felt, she felt it too. She looked away, cleared her throat, and then rose to remove her apron. Her bag was on the chair, so she opened it and looked through the clothes inside.
“Work at eleven?”
“No. I’m off today, actually.” She pulled out a pair of jeans and a bra.
“Then where are you going?”
She stilled at my question before she turned to look at me. “I don’t assume I’m going to stay here every time I come over?—”
“You should.” I opened a drawer and pulled a shirt over my head. “Hungry?”
Color moved into her cheeks, her blush pink like the roses hanging from windows in Paris. “I mean…I’m always hungry.”
“Good.”
She set her clothes down and walked up to me, naked except for the little black thong she wore. Her hand slid up my chest and my neck until she cupped my face. Then she rose on her tiptoes to kiss me, holding my face in a passionate embrace. “But for my first breakfast…I want you.”