by C. M. Steele
His brows rise with a thin, missing line in them exaggerated. Rugged is all I can think about while my pussy floods my panties. “Any dessert?”
“Pie?” I ask. I have several options, but my sister’s words about giving him my cherry hit me, knowing I more than already gave him it. His tongue darts out of his mouth and swipes over his lips as his eyes move down my body, making me shiver.
“Yes.”
I want to touch him, brush away the strands of hair that fell over his forehead. Instead, I stare at him and mutter a simple, “Perfect.”
“So, Franco, let’s leave the ladies to cook, or we won’t be eating until next week.” Mia breaks the damn spell Franco has put on me and I blush, knowing we have an audience.
“I’ll be eating tonight if I get my way,” he growls, walking toward the kitchen door. My thighs are so tense that I’m about to come on myself if I relax the muscles. His desire to eat my sloppy slit couldn’t have been any more obvious.
“Holy hell. He’s about to have you for dessert. That tension was thicker than anything I’ve ever seen, including his build. Let’s get cooking so he can have his dessert,” Anabelle teases, opening up the few bags they brought with them.
“Shut up,” I hiss at her while feeling my face burn with need and embarrassment.
We begin the prepping, digging into the massive dream refrigerator that’s almost an industrial kitchen size.
The door to the kitchen opens again and this time, it’s my boss.
“What’s up?” I ask, setting the tomatoes on the table.
“Nothing. I sent my brother outside to walk his dogs. The man’s a caged animal right now. I think he wants to keep you to himself for the rest of his days.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty much declared that to be the case. Any news on my car?”
“They’ll tow it to a nearby garage. It’s not drivable, and I’m sure Franco’s going to junk it since he has about twenty cars in his garage.”
“They’re still his.”
“Isabelle, everything that’s his is yours. You’re all he lives for.”
“I’m sorry that he’s hidden himself from the world. He’s still as handsome as he was before.”
“Yeah. Franco has got that dangerous look,” Anabelle adds. A growl comes from my boss, who’s eyeing my sister wolfishly. “What? I’m just agreeing.” She knows exactly what she’s doing to him. I can’t even be mad because it’s clear as day she’s not interested in Franco, but his brother has her attention. She wants him to practically pounce on her the way Franco invaded my space.
“You should have invited me sooner.”
“I wanted to, but I didn’t want you to get the wrong impression.” He scrunches up his nose, pressing his hand onto mine.
“Like you want me for yourself?” I question.
“What the hell?” Franco roars, entering the kitchen.
“That was fast,” Fabio says, taking a step back, releasing my hand.
“Growly beast, chill out. You didn’t hear it all,” Anabelle says, narrowing her eyes at my beast-man.
“Okay. So how about this—you all leave me alone with my sister so we can make dinner. I’m sure you two have other things to do besides sexually frustrate the cook.” I nudged Franco’s back, pushing him out of the kitchen.
He grumbles about being starved but not for food. “If you’re a good boy,” I whisper, winking before turning back around to cook. I can’t believe how insanely bold I’m being, but fuck if my entire body demands satisfaction that only he can bring.
Anabelle and I get to work. A lot of the vegetables have been cut and stored, making our job so much easier, which is good because I can’t seem to get my head on straight.
I pull the meat out of the marinade and set it in the pan while my sister sets the oven temperature for me.
I prep it and cover it. Once that’s done, I wait for the oven to preheat, then I wash up and start all the work for the sides.
“So are we going to talk about you two? Did you two do the nasty already? Who am I kidding—you probably did it ten times? I’m surprised you’re up walking. He looks fierce and huge.” Anabelle points to the door and back at me.
“So look who’s talking. Fabio hasn’t taken his eyes off you. What’s going on there?” She blushes profusely, pretending to play dumb, but the look on her face says there’s so much more there.
“Please. You’re just trying to change the subject.” She waves a wooden spoon in my face and glares.
“So what? Let’s get this over with.” I remind her that we’re trying to cook.
“Because you’re anxious to get back to your fiancé. Let me check out that ring.” I stretch out my hand, and she gasps. “That’s huge and insanely gorgeous. Fabio’s right; that man has it bad for you, and you love it.” She shakes her ass and then walks off to set the dishes in the sink.
“You’re silly, but I have to agree. I can’t believe it’s been two years since we’ve seen each other, and now everything is moving at lightning speed.”
“Are you having doubts?”
“Not at all. I’m just scared that it’s all too good to be true.”
“You suffered silently for two years and you think now that it’s finally being righted, that it’s just going to fall apart. It’s not. You’ve both paid your dues to the karma gods, and now it’s time to enjoy the bliss I see shining through you.”
“It’s a shame it had to happen at all. You two look like you could have had two wonderful years of marriage and some pretty little babies to watch open gifts in the morning,” Mia says.
Tears threaten to spill over, knowing he’s still cares for me. “Okay. I have to finish cooking. Open up some wine and pour me a drink. I totally need it right now.” Getting what I want feels overwhelming.
“That we do.” She pulls out two wine glasses and uncorks the bottle, pouring us a drink. By the time I finish the first glass, my nerves have settled. We take a seat on the opposite side of the island since we have time to kill before making the rest of the dishes.
“So, do you have a lot of work to do?” I ask, taking a long drink of my wine. “Refill me.”
She does as she talks. “I have three clients who are running an online New Year’s Day sale, so I have to get the marketing up and running on the twenty-sixth. It’s mostly done. It’s really just a flip of a switch to make their website pop with the deal. I also have some work to do for Fabio on several of his restaurants.”
“Does he keep you busy like he does me?” I ask. We never talk about work because we rarely see each other.
“Not exactly, but he’s talking about a marketing change. It helps that we’re here. Maybe I can talk to him about it.”
A knock at the kitchen door gets our attention, causing me to nearly send my glass tipping over, but I’m quick and I don’t spill a drop. “Come in,” I say in a sing-song voice.
An older woman walks in that I recognize. “Mrs. Fiore, it’s such a pleasure to see you again.” She comes into the restaurant once in a while with her husband.
“Isabelle, you look wonderful, dear. I’m so glad you agreed to make dinner.”
“Your son could be a bit demanding.”
“Do this or get fired, kind of thing?” she questions.
“Yes,” I say with a wink. “Actually he didn’t say that, but he literally waited until the night before I drove up here to ask me and plead his case.”
“That boy, but at least it got you here. I’m sorry, but I haven’t met your twin,” she says with a smile, staring at Anabelle like she knows her other son is hypnotized. I’m guessing they didn’t come in the same car. Now that I think about it, Soren and Mia arrived in one car, and Fabio and Anabelle came up in another. Mia dragged me away as the other vehicle had pulled through the gate with Franco’s parents in it.
“This is my lovely sister, Anabelle.”
“It’s a blessing to have two beautiful ladies to join our Christmas holiday.” Mrs. Fiore is a beautif
ul woman whose heart has always been on her sleeve, but Fabio says her sleeves are made of wrought iron. She loves hard and rules just as hard.
“Thank you.” Anabelle blushes, making me laugh because she’s actually nervous. I wink at her and take a drink from my glass, which is now empty. Wow, I’m getting pretty damn bubbly.
“I brought some wine,” Mrs. Fiore says, pulling a bottle out of her bag.
“I like your way of thinking,” Anabelle says.
“Fantastic. Wow. Is this from your vineyard?” I ask.
“It is. My nephew is the owner now and continues with our family vineyard in Sicily.”
“You have a nephew?” Anabelle asks. I knew that, but I haven’t met the handsome Soren yet, who is a little younger than Fabio and Franco.
“Yes, she does, but he’s too young for you,” Fabio growls, entering the kitchen almost as if he’s been listening in.
“He’s twenty-five, Fabio,” she tells her son. I feel bad for Soren because he’s not going to know what hit him other than Fabio’s fist.
“So he’s a year older than us. I want to meet him.”
“He had to run an errand. He’ll be back later.” He mumbles something under his breath and I can’t make it out, so I ignore it and pour Mrs. Fiore a glass of wine.
“Thank you, dear. Come join us in the living room. I’d love for you to meet my husband and the rest of the family, including Soren who happens to have returned from his errand.” She does air quotes, and I have to choke back a laugh. So he hasn’t left yet? Fabio’s totally interested in my sister. I follow her out, grabbing my phone and setting the timer for when I have to go back into the kitchen and cook.
My eyes find Franco first, as if I’m automatically drawn to him. He stands in a darker corner, looking as if he’s a predator stalking his prey. I walk up to him first, needing to hear him speak to me. “Why don’t you introduce me to your family? Since you are the host, after all,” I add. I don’t know all of them, including another older couple. The older woman looks just like Mia. That’s where she gets that Irish look from. The rest of the family almost look identical. It’s clear that Franco’s father and uncle are brothers.
“Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to the love of my life, Isabelle Jones, soon to be Fiore.” He smiles down at me and adds, “Isabelle. You know my parents, Maria and Marcello, but this is my uncle Soren and my aunt Linda. You haven’t met my cousin Soren.” He glares at them and announces, “See this ring? She’s taken, so don’t even think about it.”
“I suppose he’s already locked her down. What about you, beautiful?” Soren says, winking at Anabelle.
“She’s spoken for as well,” Fabio declares.
“No. She’s not,” Soren challenges, giving me a wink.
“He’s right, Fabio. I don’t belong to anyone.” Anabelle rolls her eyes and polishes off her glass of wine. Shit, she’s a nice and sweet drunk, but she rarely ever gets wasted, and this wouldn’t be the best time for her to be drinking. I don’t know what’s going on between them, but something happened.
“We’ll see,” Fabio grunts under his breath. Damn, they are going to be tearing at each other’s clothes by tonight.
Chapter Eleven
Franco
I’m lost when it comes to the conversation, unless it’s Isabelle speaking because all I can do is stare at her. My eyes haven’t left her pretty mouth as she speaks. I’m too busy thinking about holding her for the rest of our days. The day has been nice and romantic until my family arrived. Not that I’m complaining because this is what I’d been upset about missing, but with Isabelle so close, I ache to touch her until we end up naked again.
“So do you two have any more siblings?” Soren asks. She doesn’t, but I already knew that from the information I dug up on Isabelle a long time ago during one of my many stalking days and nights.
“No. We’re the only ones. Our parents had a hard time conceiving, so we came later in life and as a huge surprise. They’re retired now, living in Florida,” Isabelle explains. They’re both almost seventy. From everything I gathered, they love their girls so much, but the weather isn’t conducive to their aging bones. I can’t say I blame them. Since the injuries, the cold air causes a bit more pain, but I think my body is getting used to it.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I say, leaning in and brushing my nose along her neck. She doesn’t move away even though we’re in front of company. Instead, she turns to me and grazes my chin with her pillowy lips. I hear a low muffled sound, coming from the sofa.
“Sorry, everyone, but dinner is calling. I need to finish prepping,” Isabelle says as she pulls her phone from her back pocket, sliding the alarm off and jumping up from the sofa. Standing as well, I pull her into my arms and plant a quick kiss on her soft lips, eliciting a moan from her.
“Ladies, let’s go help finish dinner. Boys, wash up, talk some shit, and then set the table,” my mother calls out, dragging Isabelle away from me. Like a kid losing his favorite toy, I grumble under my breath, ready to stomp my foot.
Isabelle turns around and then comes back. “Just so you know that pout is so freaking sexy.” She kisses my cheek and runs off with all the ladies.
“So is that smile permanent?”
“I sure hope so, pops. I’ve never been so damn happy.” My father stands and pulls me into his arms.
“Ti amo, figlio mio. She’s wonderful and I’m looking forward to little ones.”
It feels like an eternity, but every time I try to sneak into my own kitchen, I’m shooed away. Finally, my future sister-in-law comes out and says dinner is ready to be served.
I would sit Isabelle at the head of the table, directly across from me, but I want to keep her by my side, so I allow my dad to take that spot and to begin cutting the turkey.
“Today has been a wonderful Christmas. We’re glad to spend it with all of you. And to see my son smiling for the first time in years does this old man good. Now, let’s eat because I’m sure we all want to hit the hay early.” We normally open presents on Christmas morning, and although we don’t have any small children with us, we still do it for each other. Even at my lowest, my family held out hope that I’d welcome joy into my life again.
I stand and raise my glass. “Thank you, Father. Honestly, I can’t wait for the next few Christmases to come, but I’ve gotten the best present ever. Thanks, Fabio. Thank you for forcing my hand and giving me no way to avoid the rejection I feared.” I turn to Isabelle. “I wish I hadn’t wasted those two years, but I promise to make it up to you, my darling love.” I drop my head down and kiss her lips, causing everyone to cheer again. She blushes so prettily that I want to toss her onto the table and do every dirty thing I can, but that will have to wait until we don’t have any guests.
I sit down before everyone can see my cock fighting with my zipper. We pass the food around, and finally, when everyone’s plate is full, we hold hands and say grace.
“Thank you, Franco.” She kisses my cheek.
Everyone starts digging in and talking. Dinner never looked so beautiful, and the food was terrific, too. “I’m the one who should be thankful.”
Isabelle runs her hand over my thigh, and my cock jerks against my slacks. I can’t wait for dessert. The time ticks by and I inhale her fabulous meal, but I don’t even remember it.
Chapter Twelve
Isabelle
A round of Merry Christmases and good mornings go around the room. Franco and I sit on the loveseat together, cuddling as the Christmas tree takes center stage. When we do, I lift up his injured leg and gently massage it. “You don’t—” His protests are cut off by a moan.
“I want to. It’s nothing, really.” I kiss his cheek, loving the scruffy beard beginning to grow. He returns the kiss. “I love you,” I whisper and continue my ministrations, making sure to keep my hands low so we don’t become obscene.
“Coffee, anyone?” Anabelle calls out, pulling us from our private little moment. I sneak a glance arou
nd the room, and everyone’s coupled up except Soren and Mia.
Everyone shouts out a yes, so Fabio and Anabelle head into the kitchen.
“I’m going to get the morning donuts,” Mia cheers, getting up off the floor.
“Donuts?” I ask.
“Yes. It’s a tradition. Coffee or milk with donuts.” That explains all the ones I saw in the pantry and the reason that Rita served them yesterday. She’s chilling with the guard that arrived last night. He seems like a nice man and he’s clearly interested in Rita.
“Wow. That sounds awesome!” I rub my belly because I’m starved. We burned off so many calories last night that I need nourishment. They come back with trays of coffee and donuts on a cart. Once we’re all settled in with our drinks, they pass around the gifts when Fabio drops a couple in my lap. “What are these?”
“I’ve been buying you a gift every year,” Franco says. He turns to Fabio. “Thanks for bringing them out.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” I cry as I kiss him. I don’t know what he picked out, but it doesn’t matter. “I love you so much.”
“This is for you,” I say as my sister hands a gift box to Franco.
“You got me a present?”
“Well, I knew I was coming here to cook, so I thought I’d hide it under the tree before I left, but since you aren’t planning to let me go, you can have it now.” He opens his gift first, revealing a copy of Beauty and the Beast on Blu-ray.
He starts laughing, and so does everyone else. “Go ahead and open this one.” I open the one he says and join in the laughter. I turn it to show everyone, and it’s a picture of us on the bodies of Belle and the Beast when they’re dancing.
“Oh my goodness.” Tears spill from my eyes as I try to stop laughing.
“Hopefully now he’ll open up the castle doors and let the world in,” Fabio says.
“Nope. I don’t want anyone near my Belle.” He grabs me tightly and kisses my lips.
