Ch. 121..125: Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad Chapter 121-125
Chapter 121
"I'm sorry, Fay," Alessi says again, leaning across to me and reaching out his hand to take mine, true sorrow on his face. "You are a lovely girl, I like you very much. I know this cannot be easy to hear, but it is...business." "I'm sorry," Daniel says, putting his hand out to stop Alessi's from reaching me. "What, precisely, are you trying to imply here by bringing Fay into it?"
Alessi blinks at Damoe; and then sits back in his chair, glaring at his nephew for being difficult when we all know precisely what he means. Alessi just doesn't want to say it aloud - that if my father is dead the marriage to me will, of course, no longer be worth anything at all, strategically. "This is ridiculous," Kent snaps next to me, ripping his hand out from beneath Natalia's, but Alessi and Daniel ignore him.
"Daniel," Alessi says, lifting a hand in a plea for Daniel to understand, "we love Fay - she is a wonderful girl. But we will find you a new bride - one who will be a true wife to you -"
"Truly, Daniel," Natalia says, looking at him with that simpering, motherly look I've come to hate. "It is clear that you and Fay are friends, but that you have no true intimacy between you," she says, not able to stop the little smirk that lifts the corner of her mouth. "We will find you a bride who really lights a fire in you and benefits the family -"
Kent suddenly stands up next to me in a rage, knocking over his chair as he throws his napkin viciously at the table before leaning close to Natalia, starting to hiss something cold and furious at her in fluent, fast Italian. I know, instinctually, that ordering Kent to break ties with Alden is bold move on their part, but doing it this way? Making a demand of him, in front of Daniel and me, without any discussion?
It's a checkmate.
And Kent, I know, will not respond well to that.
Before I make any move myself, though, Daniel gets to his feet as well, grabbing my left hand and pulling me with him.
"Fay," he says, obliging me to look up at him, though I can feel Alessi's eyes on us. He raises my left hand high so that it is poised between our faces, so that I can see my engagement ring - a Lippert ring - glittering there. "Do you want to end our engagement?" "N-no," I whisper, looking up at him, hoping it's the right answer.
"Good," he snaps, clenching his jaw and turning to stare hatefully at his uncle as Kent and Natalia begin to fight in earnest next to us, their Italian so blazingly fast that I don't know how they even understand each other.
Alessi stands as well now, calmly reaching out to Daniel as if in a plea for him to understand. But Daniel just shakes his head at him and starts from the room, pulling with me as he goes.
"Come on, Fay," he snarls. "We're out of here."
And I set my own jaw as I follow Daniel down the short set of stairs, never letting go of his hand and not looking behind me for a moment as we storm towards the front door.
Out front a light rain starts to fall as Daniel speaks briskly with the valet, asking him to hail a cab, which the valet does with quick efficiency. I don't say a word as the cab pulls up to the curb, my jaw clenched and my body starting to shake a little - I don't know with what, anger? Betrayal? Cold? Daniel - ever solicitous - slips off his jacket and sets it lightly around my shoulders.
I look up at Daniel with gratitude and see him looking down at me already, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Fay," he says as the cab pulls up, moving forward to open the door for me. "I can't believe that just happened - you know I'd never -"
"It's okay," I say, cutting him off as I climb into the car and move over so that Daniel can get in too, though I know the appropriate thing to do would be to let him close my door and move around to the other side to climb in himself. I don't care about what's appropriate, though - I just want to get out of here. Fast.
Daniel slides in with me and I lean against him as soon as he pulls the door shut, wanting his steady presence and his warmth. He wraps an arm around me as he gives the driver orders, though the address he tells him is certainly not home. "Where are we going?" I ask, looking up at him.
"For a drink," Daniel growls, glaring forward at nothing as the cab pulls away from the restaurant. "I need a drink."
I nod and settle against him, realizing that I very, very much want that as well right now.
A drink sounds absolutely f*****g perfect.
When we pull up to the address, I hesitate to follow when Daniel opens the door and steps out.
"Daniel," I say, looking around at the dirty, apparently abandoned alley. "Are you sure this is..."
"Just come on, Fay," he sighs, putting his forehead in his hand. I nod, trusting him and climbing out of the car as Daniel leans through the passenger window to hand the driver some cash. Then, once the driver pulls away again, Daniel walks to a steel door that's painted a rusty shade of red, banging on it twice.
To my shock, the door opens quickly to reveal a short woman dressed in her own tuxedo, a red carnation pinned to her apel.
"Ah, Mr. Green," she says, smiling up at him with a slow smirk. "Welcome back."
"Thank you," Daniel murmurs, walking swiftly past her and pulling me with him by the hand. We walk about five feet forward, passing through a velvet curtain, and then my head is instantly on swivel as I gasp and look around at the incredible room, realizing that we're in an elaborate, secret speakeasy.
"Ohhh!" I say, my face breaking into a happy smile as I take in the gorgeous mahogany bar on the left side of the room and the small, discreet booths that are built into the other three walls. And then I gasp when I look up to take in the gigantic crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling as well as a second row of balcony seating, where people mingle much more than the intimate pairs downstairs.
Daniel pulls me over to the bar, where two seats seem to be waiting for us. I'm still marveling as I slide into mine.
"Daniel," I breathe, taking in the velvet wallpaper, the intricate oil paintings on the wall that depict a variety of half-dressed people in salacious situations. "It's incredible here..."
He doesn't respond, though, and when I turn to figure out why I see the very handsome bartender coming towards us.
"Hello, Mr. Green," the bartender says, giving Daniel a slow and frankly intimate smile. "Welcome. What can we get for you tonight."
"Manhattan," Daniel replies, sharp, and then turns to me.
"And tequila," I say, unable to help smiling at him, the charm of this place temporarily overwhelming my shock and rage at Natalia and Alessi.
The bartender gives us a cute wink and heads away to get started on our drinks, and then Daniel turns to me.
"I'm so sorry, Fay," Daniel breathes, reaching out to run a hand down my arm, which I suddenly realize is still covered by his jacket. I slip the garment from my shoulders, tucking it over the back of my chair.
"It's not your fault, Daniel," I say, but he doesn't let me get any further.
"It never should have happened," he growls, looking away from me and staring into space in that same way his father does. "I could kill them."
"Well," I say, quirking my head to the side a bit. "You could kill them. Considering that's what they suggest you do to my father."
Daniel, shocked, just turns to me and stares.
Chapter 122
Daniel blinks at me for another second, I think a little appalled at my suggestion that he kill his uncle, before he sees the irony on my face and realizes that I'm making a dark joke. A bad joke, admittedly, but one I hope will break the tension. Thankfully, Daniel does laugh, shaking his head and dropping it a little as he tugs at the bow tie around his neck. "It's so insane, Fay," he sighs, and when he continues to fiddle with the tie I brush his hand away and untie it for him. "It is," I say, leaning in to put a hand on his cheek and make him look at me. "Honestly, Daniel, there's so much we don't know. And nothing else we can do about it, at least until tomorrow. So should we just..."
"... Get really drunk? And not talk about it?" he finishes for me, and I grin at him, glad that we're on the same page. "Hell yeah," he says as the bartender comes back and places our two drinks in front of us.
We both grasp our glasses and clink them together as the bartender moves away, smiling at each other.
"To our engagement," I say, feeling a little hysterical, "which has survived, somehow, despite all odds."
"Our engagement," Daniel agrees, smiling with one half of his mouth as he shakes his head and downs his drink, signaling to the bartender for two more. I laugh and toss my shot of tequila down, savoring the burn in my throat, wanting the relaxation and tender oblivion that it promises.
And then, impulsive, I lean closer to Daniel and press my mouth lightly to his, kissing him because I love him and because I'm grateful for him.
The kiss is sweet, short and easy, but Daniel laughs when I pull away, glancing around the room. "Come on, Fay," he murmurs. "Cool it, or you'll ruin my reputation here."
I stare at him for a moment, confused, and then slowly I start to look around the room and realize that everyone around us at the bar or the little booths...everyone is sitting in same-s*x couplings.
"Oh my god," I breathe, my face breaking into an excited smile as I whip my face back to Daniel, thrilled. "Did you bring me to a gay speakeasy!?"
"Welcome to Green's," he says, giving me a little smirk and raising his newly-delivered second Manhattan to me. "The most discreet, private, and expensive gay club in our fair city."
"Ohmygod," I say again, so fast and excited that it's all one word, looking around again, absolutely buzzing with curiosity. "Do you come here all the time? Why do they call you Mr. Green?"
"Be cool, Fay," Daniel laughs, putting a hand on my shoulder and obliging me to sit back in my seat as he hands me my drink. "As I said, I've got a reputation here."
"Are you Mr. Green?" I ask, my eyes wide. "Do you own this place?"
"No," he replies, grinning at me. "Every member is Mr. Green. It's supposed to be anonymous. It's kind of...the one place in the city where I can go to a gay bar and...not worry about who sees me."
"Oh," I say, my eyes going wide as I realize how important that must be for someone like him. "Well, I love it," I say, grinning widely. "Thank you for bringing me!"
"Well, who can I trust if I can't trust my fiancé," he says with irony, taking a big gulp of his drink.
"Beards are notoriously trustworthy," I point out with a happy sigh, nodding along with him.
And then, over the course of the next few hours, as we laugh and chat and talk about nothing and everything all at once, Daniel proceeds to get very, very drunk.
I drink with him, of course, but I start to notice that when I'm on my second drink Daniel's on his fourth. And on my third, his seventh. Daniel's bigger than me, of course - he can handle more than I can - but still, I start to see his eyes go half-shut as the night passes and his words slur together. I don't chide him, realizing that this is what he wants, perhaps needs, after our stressful evening.
Daniel is...sensitive, I know. And while this is my first time at this "maybe my dad will get whacked for power" rodeo, it's something he's dealt with all his life. And perhaps the strain on him...I guess it makes sense, in a way. That he's just so sick of it that all he wants to do is wipe it from his mind.
And there is something about it that I find tempting - the idea that I could wipe it all out, too, for the next few hours, and face none of it. But there's something else in me that wants to stay sharp, that isn't finished with the night.
And as I see Daniel's phone, resting on the bar, continuing to light up with text after text, I realize what it is.
"Give me that," I say, reaching for the phone as Daniel signals the bartender for another round.
"Ignore him," Daniel suggests lightly, waving a dismissive hand. "Fuck Kent. F**k Natalia. F**k 'em all."
"Don't be ridiculous," I murmur, entering Daniel's password (which I obviously have memorized) and clicking open his texts to find at lest six from Kent demanding to know where we are.
I quickly type out a reply:
Hey, it's Fay. Daniel and I went out for drinks to blow off steam. We're safe. We just...don't want to be around them right now. All right?
I wait a few moments and am pleased when a text comes right back.
All right. Come home tonight. I want both of you here, safe.
I send a little star emoji back, purposefully vague, and then slide the phone back onto the bar.
"Seriously, Fay," Daniel says, and I look up to realize that he's been watching me. "Seriously, fuck Kent. He's ruining our lives. Why do you even care if he knows where we are? Why do you care about him at all?" "Daniel," I reply, frowning at him a bit. "He's your dad."
"He's a dick," Daniel insists, and I laugh, shaking my head. "What," Daniel continues, leaning into me a bit, "are you going to deny it?"
"No," I say, crossing my arms and studying him. "But...I admit that I am less willing to talk shit on your dad than I used to be."
"Because you have a crush on him," Daniel murmurs, sighing ruefully and taking a too-large gulp of his new drink. "Which is still weird and gross."
"Slow down on that, Mr. Green." I advise, taking the drink out of his hand and placing it back on the bar. "Besides, it's not like your dad wasn't on our side tonight, Daniel. He was just as pissed at Natalia and Alessi as we were."
"Yeah, but only because it benefits him," Daniel sighs. Then he looks up at me, his face perhaps a little too serious for someone so drunk. "Seriously, Fay," he says, looking at me closely. "You don't think he'd kick you to the curb just as easily as Natalia did if it stopped benefitting him? As easily as he did Fiona?"
I bite my lip, hesitating, not knowing the answer and a little afraid of it.
"Fay, he dated Fiona for years," Daniel insists. "She was practically family. She was like -" his voice breaks a little here, taking my heart with it, "she was like a mom to me. And then poof," He snaps his fingers in the air to emphasize his point. "Gone." "Daniel," I sigh. "Fiona was...my cousin. She was betraying your dad, reporting back to mine. Telling him Kent's secrets."
Daniel goes a little bit pale at this information and turns back to the bar, reaching for his drink. "Okay well," he murmurs, "that makes more sense then. But still, Fay! He cuts ties. You are not safe, just because you're sleeping in his bed." "I didn't think I was," I sigh, and as I say it...I wonder if it's a lie.
Because honestly, sometimes?
Sometimes that's the place in the world where I feel safest, the only place that makes sense.
The other night, Kent called me his peace - his refuge. And honestly I wonder if that's what he is becoming for me as well.
But before I can consider it, I notice that Daniel is sliding out of his chair a little bit, his eyes half-closed.
"Whoaaa, boy," I laugh, jumping up from my seat and helping him sit up.
"I'm fine," Daniel insists, yawning and swatting me away a little, looking for his drink.
"I know, sugar," I murmur, grabbing his phone off the bar again and dialing the first number in his recent call list. "Let's get you home."
Twenty minutes later, I smile as I see Jerome come through the curtain.
"Well hello, Mr. and Mrs. Green," Jerome says, looking us over fondly as he wanders over to the bar, his hands tucked neatly in his pockets. "My, aren't you a sight."
"Just Mr. Green, tonight," I say, standing up and tucking myself under Daniel's arm so that he can lean on me. "Mrs. Green held it together."
"Did she?" Jerome asks, looking at me suspiciously as I stumble a little in my high heels.
"Comparatively, yes," I say, raising my chin proudly and making him laugh.
"You guys all right?" Jerome whispers to me, curious and concerned. "The three of them came home and it was...a lot of yelling in Italian."
"We'll make it," I say, giving him a sad little sigh. "It...was a bad night."
"Okay," Jerome says, nodding, trusting me to fill him in when he needs to know.
"Hey, 'rome," Daniel slurs, finally looking up to see his boyfriend there.
"Hey, handsome," Jerome says warmly, and I'm both surprised and pleased as Jerome steps close to my fiancé, reaching out to run a hand through Daniel's dark hair before moving to duck under Daniel's other arm. I've never seen them be this sweet to each other before. I almost blush to see it, the real affection between them on full display.
"Ready for bed?" Jerome asks Daniel softly.
"With you?" Daniel says, looking over at him as if I don't exist at all. "Any time."
Jerome grins at his boyfriend, nods to me, and then together we get Daniel out to the car.
Chapter 123
Jerome and I get Daniel into the house with relatively little trouble, though Daniel's loud humming of the Gilligan's Island theme song has me looking anxiously up the stairs. The absolute last thing I want right now is Natalia coming out of her bedroom to scold me for getting her baby boy drunk. "Come on, Danny," Jerome whispers as we work our way up the stairs, the nickname making me burst into a ridiculous smile. "Help us out a little, here,"
But Daniel patently refuses, dragging his feet and making us work for every step. I'm panting a little when we get to the top of the stairs, which makes Jerome raise a critical eyebrow at me. "A little out of shape, Fay?"
"Hey," I return, glaring at him. "You didn't have to do it in heels."
Jerome laughs a little and starts towards Daniel's bedroom. I go with him but he stops and shakes his head at me. "I got it from here," he says, giving me a small smile.
"Are you sure?" I ask, unlooping Daniel's arm from my shoulder.
"Yeah," Jerome says, turning his head to look at his boyfriend. "Trust me. I've got it."
And so I watch them go, a little jealousy curling in my belly at the intimacy between them. It just seems so simple, in this moment - how good they are for each other, even though their situation is impossible. How well they just...fit. Despite the impossible odds. And suddenly, as I turn into my own room and press the door shut behind me, I want a drink. Very bad
Because while everyone else spent the evening enjoying their wine, and then getting obliterated at the bar so they didn't have to feel their emotions -
I spent my night watching Natalia's every move and then babysitting Daniel.
So now? It's my turn.
And I know precisely where I'm going.
Smiling a little, and feeling a little dangerous, I bend down to quickly peel off my shoes, tossing them on my bed before heading directly for the wardrobe.
I regret that move, a little bit, by the time I get up the stone steps to the door which leads to Kent's room-mostly because my feet are freezing. I hop from one to the other as I hesitate outside his room, suddenly wondering if this was a good idea. I mean, should I have texted first to check and see if he was free, or even awake?
What if he's not even there? Or I gasp a little as I realize that he might not be alone -
What if - what if Natalia is in there - trying to seduce him -
Oh my god, what if she succeeded and I walk into...
Dying, suddenly desperate to know, I press as lightly as I can on the door, which swings open the barest crack on silent hinges.
But I scowl as I'm greeted with the sight of Kent, sitting in his bed with a book open in his lap, looking directly at me over the thick black frame of his reading glasses.
"Seriously?" I sigh, pushing the door open and leaning against the frame. "You knew I was here?"
"Did you think you were quiet?" Kent asks with a smirk.
"Well, kinda," I reply, rolling my eyes a little.
"Stomp, stomp, stomp, pant, gasp, sigh," Kent says, laughing. "Don't expect to be hired to my stealth team anytime soon, Fay."
"Don't expect me to apply for it, Kent," I shoot back, narrowing my eyes at him a little. But then I find myself starting to grin with glee as I take a good look at him sitting there all sexy in his underwear, reading his book. "What?" he asks, frowning, suspicious of my change in mood.
"You have reading glasses?" I ask, my smile growing wide.
ed impairments. My daddy raised me right."
s out a hand to me, beckoning me forward. I swiftly cross the room to e sound.
nake it worth my while.
Kent smirks and pushes them back up on his nose, looking at me through them now. "Don't try to shame me about these, Fay," he commands, his voice low and rough enough to make my stomach twist with anticipation. "I look damn good in them." "Oh," I say, flicking my hair back over my shoulder. "I would never shan Kent laughs at this, really laughs, a sound that makes me stand straigh make him laugh like that. Kent Lippert, laughing. I may be one of only But as I put my hand in his and let him pull me across his body, I also "Baby Fay," he murmurs, smirking down at me, "making fun of this old "Oh, come on," I murmur, curling my body close against him. "You can 1 "Damn right I can," he growls as he tucks his face low against my hair, r But before I can retort, Kent pulls away from me a little and looks at m what he means.
"We're okay," I answer softly, looking up into his dark green eyes. "Well
nt and then says, quite seriously, "I could have you killed for that."
t than that."
e asks. "And Daniel? Are you two all right? I know tonight was..." he lets
Chapter 123
Jerome and I get Daniel into the house with relatively little trouble, though Daniel's loud humming of the Gilligan's Island theme song has me looking anxiously up the stairs. The absolute last thing I want right now is Natalia coming out of her bedroom to scold me for getting her baby boy drunk. "Come on, Danny," Jerome whispers as we work our way up the stairs, the nickname making me burst into a ridiculous smile. "Help us out a little, here,"
But Daniel patently refuses, dragging his feet and making us work for every step. I'm panting a little when we get to the top of the stairs, which makes Jerome raise a critical eyebrow at me. "A little out of shape, Fay?"
"Hey," I return, glaring at him. "You didn't have to do it in heels."
Jerome laughs a little and starts towards Daniel's bedroom. I go with him but he stops and shakes his head at me. "I got it from here," he says, giving me a small smile.
"Are you sure?" I ask, unlooping Daniel's arm from my shoulder.
"Yeah," Jerome says, turning his head to look at his boyfriend. "Trust me. I've got it."
And so I watch them go, a little jealousy curling in my belly at the intimacy between them. It just seems so simple, in this moment - how good they are for each other, even though their situation is impossible. How well they just...fit. Despite the impossible odds. And suddenly, as I turn into my own room and press the door shut behind me, I want a drink. Very bad
Because while everyone else spent the evening enjoying their wine, and then getting obliterated at the bar so they didn't have to feel their emotions -
I spent my night watching Natalia's every move and then babysitting Daniel.
So now? It's my turn.
And I know precisely where I'm going.
Smiling a little, and feeling a little dangerous, I bend down to quickly peel off my shoes, tossing them on my bed before heading directly for the wardrobe.
I regret that move, a little bit, by the time I get up the stone steps to the door which leads to Kent's room-mostly because my feet are freezing. I hop from one to the other as I hesitate outside his room, suddenly wondering if this was a good idea. I mean, should I have texted first to check and see if he was free, or even awake?
What if he's not even there? Or I gasp a little as I realize that he might not be alone -
What if - what if Natalia is in there - trying to seduce him -
Oh my god, what if she succeeded and I walk into...
Dying, suddenly desperate to know, I press as lightly as I can on the door, which swings open the barest crack on silent hinges.
But I scowl as I'm greeted with the sight of Kent, sitting in his bed with a book open in his lap, looking directly at me over the thick black frame of his reading glasses.
"Seriously?" I sigh, pushing the door open and leaning against the frame. "You knew I was here?"
"Did you think you were quiet?" Kent asks with a smirk.
"Well, kinda," I reply, rolling my eyes a little.
"Stomp, stomp, stomp, pant, gasp, sigh," Kent says, laughing. "Don't expect to be hired to my stealth team anytime soon, Fay."
"Don't expect me to apply for it, Kent," I shoot back, narrowing my eyes at him a little. But then I find myself starting to grin with glee as I take a good look at him sitting there all sexy in his underwear, reading his book. "What?" he asks, frowning, suspicious of my change in mood.
"You have reading glasses?" I ask, my smile growing wide.
ed impairments. My daddy raised me right."
s out a hand to me, beckoning me forward. I swiftly cross the room to e sound.
nake it worth my while.
Kent smirks and pushes them back up on his nose, looking at me through them now. "Don't try to shame me about these, Fay," he commands, his voice low and rough enough to make my stomach twist with anticipation. "I look damn good in them." "Oh," I say, flicking my hair back over my shoulder. "I would never shan Kent laughs at this, really laughs, a sound that makes me stand straigh make him laugh like that. Kent Lippert, laughing. I may be one of only But as I put my hand in his and let him pull me across his body, I also "Baby Fay," he murmurs, smirking down at me, "making fun of this old "Oh, come on," I murmur, curling my body close against him. "You can 1 "Damn right I can," he growls as he tucks his face low against my hair, r But before I can retort, Kent pulls away from me a little and looks at m what he means.
"We're okay," I answer softly, looking up into his dark green eyes. "Well
nt and then says, quite seriously, "I could have you killed for that."
t than that."
e asks. "And Daniel? Are you two all right? I know tonight was..." he lets
Chapter 124
Kent only pauses for a second when he looks at me as I come back out of the closet, but it's enough to make a slow smile creep over my face. I cross the room back to him and lean casually against the tiny bar, wiggling my hips a little in an attempt to get him to look at me again. The underwear set that I've chosen can...well, it's so flimsy that it barely deserves to be called underwear. But I look damn good in it. And Kent knows it, even if he's pretending he doesn't.
He shifts his eyes to mine briefly before returning to his process. "Do you mind, Fay?" he asks quietly, nudging my elbow away from its place on the bar. "It's a small work area."
"I do mind," I sigh, leaning forward and allowing my elbow to taking up more space as I place my chin in my palm, looking up at him. "What's taking so long?"
"It takes a while," Kent answers as he peels the rind off of an orange and rubs it around the edge of a glass already filled with a whiskey cocktail. "To make a nice drink."
I pout a little as I look down at the glasses. "I wanted tequila."
Kent smirks and shakes his head at me, taking a step back from the bar and handing me my drink after popping the orange peel into it. "You should have told me that," he says, "before I made old fashioneds."
I look dubiously down into my glass, squinting one eye. "Is it any good?"
He laughs again and clinks his drink against mine. "Try it, Fay. You might like it."
I sneer a little as I lift the glass to my nose, sniffing the drink. "That's what you said about the fois gras," I mumble. "And that was gross."
Kent just smirks at me and takes a long sip of his drink before starting to walk away back towards the bed. I straighten up as I watch him go, my eyes darting directly to the elastic of his underwear waistband, to the place where it presses delicately against his tanned skin. And it's certainly not because of the whiskey that my mouth begins to water.
Still, I take a long sip of the drink, considering it as Kent tosses his reading glasses on his bedside table and sits down on the bed, relaxing against the headboard with one foot flat on the mattress, his leg bent at the knee.
"What do you think?" he asks, and I swirl the drink around in my mouth before swallowing.
"Well," I say, looking consideringly down at it. "The whiskey part is gross, but I like the sugar."
Kent just smirks at me and raises one hand, beckoning me closer with a curl of his fingers as he moves his own cocktail to the table next to him. I obey, but I stoop down to grab the little bottle of tequila that I see at the bottom of the bar on my way.
"Fay," Kent groans, reaching for me as I come close and pulling me on top of him so that my knees straddle his lap, a bottle of tequila in one of my hands and my whiskey cocktail in the other. "Honestly, girl," he says, pulling me closer to him with two hands on my waist, "I can dress you in La Pearla and give you a cocktail made with twenty-year-old Bourbon, but you'll still want tequila and tell me your favorite part of the drink I made is the two cent's worth of sugar."
"What did you expect, Kent," I murmur, tilting my head back to finish off my cocktail as he lowers his face to my chest, pressing his lips to the swell of my b****t, "the first time we met was in a prison, the second was in a strip club. My sister's strip club, none the less. I never promised class."
Kent laughs again and looks up into my face. "Pearls before swine," he murmurs, but I can tell he doesn't mean it. That he likes me just like this.
"Hey," I whisper with a little snarl, bringing my mouth close to his, "call me a swine again. See what happens." But I don't give him the chance, kissing him before he can speak, opening my mouth to him and letting him tug me flush against him, my stomach against his chest.
I wait for Kent to shudder a little, until he utters his first little moan, before I pull away, unlooping my arms from around his neck and pulling my left knee over his lap so that I can sit beside him, rather than straddle him.
"Hey," he growls, reaching for me, but I hold up one finger - with a little difficulty, considering I have my empty whiskey glass in that hand.
"Uh-uh," I say, pursing my lips. "One drink and then you think you can get me in bed? With no conversation? Not much of a date, Mr. Lippert."
Kent glares at me and snatches the empty glass from my hand, putting it roughly on the bedside table next to his. "You're already in bed, Fay," he growls, turning back towards me and rolling his body in an attempt to cover mine, to pin me to the mattress in the way he knows I like.
I'm tempted but - well, honestly, I'm a little serious. I want him - I always want him. But I also want...a minute with him, before we dive into all of that. A minute just to talk, to connect.
"Come on, Kent," I say, grinning up at him as I place a hand flat against his chest, making him pause. "I'm cheap, but I'm not easy."
Kent, glowering above me, raises a dubious eyebrow at me that makes me laugh, hard. But then he sighs and falls on his side, stretching his body out and propping his head up on his palm. "All right," he says, curious. "What's it going to take, Ms. Alden?" "Well, you made me a cocktail," I say, beginning to smirk as I lay my back flat on the mattress, my shoulders propped up against a pillow, and start to unscrew the top of the tequila bottle in my hand. "Now I'll make you one."
"Fay," Kent says, suddenly worried and reaching for the bottle. "What are you doing - let me get a glass -"
"No!" I object, laughing and pulling it out of his grasp. "This is my drink - I'll mix it as I please -"
"Oh my god," he murmurs as he sees me hold the open bottle over my stomach. He reaches for the bottle again but I smack his arm away. "You're going to get it all over the sheets - "
"Well then you'd better drink quick," I say as I pour juuuuust a little bit of tequila in the shallow well created by my belly button.
With a groan of dismay Kent dips his head to my stomach, and I laugh hysterically as he slurps the tequila off of me, thoroughly enjoying the movement of his lips and tongue against my skin as he does his best to get all of it up before it can drip onto his thousand- dollar sheets.
Chapter 125
Kent succeeds, though not a drop of tequila gets away from him. Kent glares up at me when he's finish and, I think in his idea of punishment, drags his tongue in a long, thick lick from my belly button halfway up my stomach. "What the hell were you thinking, Fay," "I don't know," I say, still grinning at him. "I saw it on MTV once when I was a kid. I always wanted to try it."
he growls.
"Well don't do it again," he commands, bringing his face level with mine and then grabbing the bottle of tequila out of my hands.
"Hey!" I shout, grabbing for it, but he pulls away from me and raises the bottle to his lips, taking a long drink. Kent shakes his head as he swallows, wincing at the burn of the liquor before handing it back to me.
"If we're going to be classless, Fay," he says, turning his eyes back to mine, "at least be clean."
"I can work with that," I reply, grinning before raising the bottle to my lips and taking a long drink myself. Then, I tuck the bottle in next to me as I snuggle back against the pillows and smile at Kent, enjoying the warm and cozy burn of the tequila in my chest, feeling it already bringing a little peace to my tired brain.
Kent eyes the open bottle anxiously but I tsk him and give him a little shove on his shoulder. He just rolls his eyes.
"I didn't agree to chaos, Fay," he informs me, shaking his head at me yet again.
"I know, Kent," I say, lifting a sympathetic hand to his face. "But that's the price you pay to have me all curled up in your bed."
"Worth it," Kent murmurs, the words barely audible as he turns his face to press a kiss to my palm. But then he turns his attention back to me. "Are you sure?" he asks, "that you don't want to talk about what happened tonight?"
"Do we need to?" I ask, suddenly hesitant. "I mean..." I wiggle a little bit, trying to sit up straighter. "Are you...going to like, kick me out of the house?"
"No, Fay," Kent promises, his face suddenly very serious despite the fact that he did a body shot off of me thirty seconds ago. "She can make demands all she wants, but this?" he says, nodding between us. "This is not hers to arbitrate." "Okay," I say, relaxing back against the pillows. "Then, can we talk about it tomorrow? Can we just...have tonight?"
"Yes, Fay," Kent murmurs, smiling at me. "If that's what you want."
And since it is what I want, I raise the tequila to my lips again, taking a sip before pressing it to Kent's mouth. He holds my gaze as he takes the bottle from my hand, only breaking my eyeline as he tips his head back to take a steady drink. And then, when he lowers his head again, we talk.
And talk.
And we continue to talk, long into the night, way past the point when I'm sure Kent would have preferred to go to sleep. At first Kent just answers whatever random questions I can come up with, which get deeper and more poignant as we go. And then, after we've had enough tequila to make my brain pleasantly fuzzy, he begins to offer stories of his own.
And to my shock, Kent tells me all sorts of things about his life. Things I'm sure hardly anyone knows - which Daniel himself might not even know.
He tells me about his charmed childhood at his father's side, how he grew up with the best of everything before his father was brutally murdered in a mob hit when he was just a kid. He tells me about how he saw it happen. How he'll never forget the sight of his father's blood.
And then Kent tells me about how his world fell apart after his father's death. I bite my lip as I listen to him tell it, not wanting to remind him that it is precisely that fate which Natalia wants to give me by having my own father murdered. But Kent meets my eyes as he tells me about how his mother scrambled to hold their life together, how his uncle stepped in to help, and I know that he understands. I know that this story is a promise that it won't be the same for me.
"You know him, you know," Kent says, taking another swig of tequila. "My uncle Gino."
"What?" I ask, shocked. "Is he - he's not dead?" I've heard of him before, of course - just briefly, I think from Daniel - the man who helped Kent's mother hold the family together for him while Kent was sent to Italy to be raised by the Bianci family.
"No, he's not dead," Kent says, laughing and grinning at me. Then he gestures towards the rest of the house with the bottle. "You see him every morning, Fay. At breakfast."
"Oh!" I say, my eyes going wide. "Oh." And then I slap a hand against my forehead, laughing at myself. "Seriously!? That's your uncle Gino, at the table with the old men?" Kent laughs at me, shaking his head. "Who did you think it was?"
"Well, I don't know," I say, rolling my eyes at him. "It's not like you or Daniel ever had the grace to introduce me."
Kent just shrugs and offers me the bottle of tequila, which I take and sip from, watching him. "You could have introduced yourself. Kind of rude that you didn't."
I laugh and smack him on the shoulder. "Come on, Kent! You know how shy I am, and how scared I was when I first came into this house."
"Shy," Kent scoffs, disbelieving, as he lowers his face to my shoulder and presses a kiss there. "You're not shy, Fay. Not really."
"What?" I ask, shocked and a little confused.
"Seriously, Fay," he continues, placing little kisses on the skin all along the line of my shoulder. "You stand up to me on a regular basis, you had the brass to walk past Natalia at a glacial space even though you were an hour and fifteen minutes late to dinner, you have a second mafia boss so eager to see you he crashes my family party -"
"Ohhh," I say, swatting at Kent. "That's not the same thing at all - I also blush like a damn lobster every five minutes and feel my knees go weak anytime even frowns at me -"
"Not true," Kent says, lifting his head to look me seriously in the eye. "Not anymore, at least. Shy, Fay - that's not what you are at all. It's just that at some point you got the idea that you were weaker, or less capable, or less deserving than other people. But your real heart? Beneath it all?" He shakes his head at me again, tapping a finger at my chest as a little smile pulls at his lips. "You're a viper, Fay."
I blink at him, completely shocked by his words, by his...well, by his compliment. And a little twist of pleasure rises in me at this idea that this is how Kent sees me.
And, because I'm me, I immediately blush. Kent laughs when he sees it.
"See!?" I say, my blush deepening in my embarrassment. I raise my hands to my cheeks, trying to block it from his sight. "Kent, I can't be a viper when I do this whenever anyone says something nice about me -"
"You can," he says, pulling my hands away and pressing a kiss to each of my blushing cheeks, "if you would just start believing the compliments. Or believing it of yourself before someone has the grace to inform you of it."
"Oh, I can't do that," I sigh, leaning back against the pillows and covering my face with my hands.
"Why not, Fay?" Kent asks softly, his voice curious. "You're the only one who doesn't know your power the moment you walk into the room. Fiona saw it immediately. So did I. It's why Natalia can't stand you. No one doubts you as much as you do." "Really?" I breathe, pulling my hands away from my face and looking up at him. "Is that honestly how you see me, Kent?"
"It is," he says, holding my eyes so that I'll believe him for a moment before shifting his body so that his head is lower now, down by my shoulders. Kent dips his head again, kissing me in the hollow of my throat and then down my chest. "You're a viper hiding in the skin of a fawn, Fay. It's incredibly sexy. You're just the last one to figure it out."
I shake my head and smirk at the top of his head and burying my fingers in his hair as he moves his body even lower on the bed, pressing kisses to my stomach, letting his tongue stroke languidly across my skin. "I bet you say this to all the girls," I murmur, a little disgruntled. "The fawn/viper line is a good one."
"I have never said that to any girl," Kent says, looking up at me quickly with a little fury in his eyes. "And I wouldn't have said it to you, except you got me all drunk on tequila. Loosened my tongue, in all the worst ways."
And then he lowers his face to my stomach again, tugging angrily at the lacy edges of my panties as he moves further down.
"Well, if this is the result," I say, my breath starting to come in little pants as he licks lower, and lower, "then we're having tequila every day..."
Kent nips me on the inner thigh then, punishment for my sass, and I give a sharp little yelp that quickly turns into a moan as he begins to lick me, languidly, precisely where I want him to lick.