by Kate Stewart
Why didn’t he just fire him? Maybe they were family. Still, the relationship seemed strained. I shook off those questions, deeming them intrusive, and held up my finger to the bartender. I was looking over the marsh as the sun began to set. Orange and pink hues wafted throughout the restaurant as diners ignored the obscene beauty that surrounded them in lieu of conversation. I had no issue with my own company as I watched the show unveil in front of me. Snow white heron birds with majestic wings patterned around the water, dipping their feather tips on the cool surface before flying into the mix of grassy marsh and then further to clear water. I hadn’t traveled much in my life, never straying further west than Tennessee before making a beeline for New York after Boston. And there was something to be said for the beauty of the Smoky Mountains, but unfortunately for me, I never got to enjoy those.
But Charleston couldn’t be summed into words. Charleston was a feeling. The city had more breathtaking sunsets and more settings to paint those sunsets than any place I’d ever been.
“It is beautiful,” Daniello whispered as he joined me. I made a small hmph sound as he pulled me from the bar where I had yet to be served and guided me behind the hostess to our table where we got a front row view of the last of the show.
“I’m sure it’s nothing compared to Italy,” I noted, saying a small thank you to our hostess.
“You have not been?” He seemed surprised.
“I skipped the backpacking through Europe trip in college,” I said absently.
The server greeted us, asking for our drink order.
“I’ll have a white wine, your choice.” Smiling, I addressed the waiter.
“She will have a vodka,” Daniello corrected.
“Very good, sir,” the waiter walked away, and I looked at Daniello, confused.
“You twist your nose every fucking time you take a sip of any wine. You do not like it.”
“What?” I asked, wildly confused.
“Just be truthful, you do not like wine,” he said crossly.
“I order it everywhere,” I said confidently, knowing with him I was transparent.
“And yet there is not a bottle in your house. Not one.” He sat back in his chair defiantly.
“I’m not much of a drinker.” I shrugged.
“Because you hate wine,” he insisted.
“Daniello, I’m really trying here, but how the hell would you know what I like and dislike?”
“I know you love my tongue in your mouth, my cock in your pussy, and I know you do not enjoy wine.”
“Fine, vodka it is,” I hissed, taking a sip of our newly delivered drinks and hating it. Daniello saw it and motioned to the waiter.
“No,” he said, ushering the waiter back. “Scusami…what is your name?”
“Chris…” the waiter answered, smiling between the two of us as if he were in on the game.
“I will pay for every drink you deliver to this table until we find something she enjoys,” Daniello said. “Gin, something with gin.”
“Way off,” I snubbed.
Daniello raised his brows as if I’d already lost. He tapped his fingers on his lips pensively then took another guess. “Scotch?”
I shook my head and blew out an exasperated breath, looking at our eager waiter. “Whiskey on ice.”
Daniello chuckled as Chris looked at him. “Per favore.” Daniello steepled his hands in mock prayer. “Please give her some whiskey, Chris.”
Chris nodded in reply and walked away with the fresh order.
“Why would you suffer with wine all this time?” He wasn’t asking, gloating was more like it. I shrugged and eyed my menu, not giving either recognition.
Whiskey is not the drink of a lady, Taylor.
It had been a while since I’d thought of that voice, a different ghost, a different life. I straightened in my chair, refusing to explain myself. The voice taunted me.
“You will order white wine at every event. You will sip it slowly, and you will never have more than two.”
Minutes of silence followed as Daniello scrutinized me, and I ignored him entirely, instead watching the sunset.
“I would like you to be comfortable,” he offered in small apology.
I smirked as I looked up. “And that was handled perfectly.”
“I find myself answering to you, and it does not please me.” I almost laughed, even more exasperated as fresh drinks were delivered. I took a long sip as Chris waited and watched me.
“Yummy.” Managing a wink at Daniello, I turned to our waiter and beat Daniello at his game by ordering for the both of us. “We’ll both have the filet, medium rare, rosemary potatoes, and the lobster tail. House dressing with our salads.”
Chris nodded, his gaze turning to Daniello, who was laughing loudly as he waved Chris away.
“Woman, you have no idea how much you amuse me,” he said, sipping his stiff drink.
Three drinks later, my body buzzed from the amber liquid as Daniello remained light in our conversation. Whiskey had always been my drink of choice, but had the effect of a syringe full of truth serum, so I tried to avoid it at all costs. I reminded myself to remain tight-lipped as I sucked on a piece of ice.
“Why were you at the club?” I asked boldly. “You never entertained any of those women.”
He wiped his mouth, finished a bite of salad, and watched me suck my ice before answering.
“I was there with a business partner who frequents the club. I had no desire to…entertain.”
“Kind of judgmental, isn’t it? You could have tried it at least once.”
Serious eyes looked at me, watching my chest rise and fall, drifting up to my neck, and then landing on my lips where they remained with his next words.
“I got all I wanted out of that club.”
“So did I,” I replied quickly.
“Ah,” he said, pushing his salad plate to the side. “My first compliment.”
“Thank you for the wine and the flowers,” I said in a daze, buzzing from the electricity between us and the whiskey running through my veins. “I still hate that you break into my house.”
“And I will continue to,” he said flatly.
“Well, I may shoot you.”
“I look forward to that fight.” Smirking, he moved his hands from the table as his plate was delivered. We ate in comfortable silence and lingering glances that told me what I was in store for.
“How old are you?” I asked, knowing he couldn’t be much older than me.
“Thirty-three.”
“Do you—” I squeaked and he chuckled.
Fucking whiskey.
“Do you have a large family?”
“Large, define large in American terms,” he ordered as he cut his steak.
“I don’t know,” I said carefully. “Five brothers and five sisters, big?”
“There were thirty-one people at our last family dinner.”
“That’s a family reunion,” I said, stunned as he looked at me in question. “It’s a gathering of family you haven’t seen in some time,” I said in explanation.
“We do not do this. We do not see each other for a long time,” he said, amused.
Our worlds were completely different. It had never been more apparent to me.
“That’s…that’s good.” I’d been jealous all my life of families who were close. It was nothing new, but suddenly I found myself glad Daniello had that for himself.
“And you?”
His tone was uninterested, so I waved him off in reply.
“I do not accept that, this gesture with your hand,” he snapped.
“One sister.”
“And your family union, how many of you are there?”
I didn’t bother to correct him on his verbiage. “Two.”
One day. One day, a reunion of two.
“I see.” It wasn’t pity that covered his features. It was indifference, and it confused me. Up until that point, he had seemed interested. Maybe I was asking too much.<
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“It doesn’t reveal anything about you if you have a big family, Daniello.” My damn mouth.
“Let us go,” he barked, lifting his hand to get Chris’s attention.
“You know if I can’t speak without pissin’ you off, I don’t see the point.”
I’d heard it. He’d heard it. Not just my words, but also the accent. I sat back in my chair and folded my arms at his slightly shocked expression.
“It’s a southern accent. You know…we talk this way. You aren’t new to this.” I stood as he threw enough money on the table to pay for the meals of everyone dining. Chris would be over the moon. I was under the bus where I’d thrown myself and was now being guided by the elbow out of the restaurant.
“You seem to have more people living inside you than I can care for, Taylor Ellison,” he chided as he guided me down the stairs.
“I can walk,” I barked as he pushed me up against the side of the wood building the minute we reached the landing.
“Fuck, woman, just give up. I want to fuck you, and you want to fuck me. Your pussy is on fire right now and this”—he pressed his hard dick into me as I moved my hands to his shoulders—“is in need of that mouth.”
“Go to hell.” I pushed away from him and turned to head for the waiting SUV.
I was furious with myself for revealing so much. This man wasn’t interested in me in the least. He wanted a fuck and I wanted…What did I want?
I didn’t want to be involved but I damn sure didn’t want to be ignored, or feel it when I made polite conversation. I heard another sigh behind me.
“You want me to care, or you do not? Make your choice, Taylor Ellison. I grow tired of your fits. I have fucked you only once and from what I can see you may no longer be worth the trouble.”
I saw red as I turned and lunged at him, the whiskey a perfect excuse for me to lose my ever-loving mind. “You son of a bitch,” I shrieked as I pounded at his chest with my fist. “Who in the hell do you think you are! Forget this whole situation, and to hell with you.” I turned on my wedged heel and fell flat on my indignant ass. Daniello howled behind me as I whimpered at the pain in my ankle. I pulled myself up with no help from him and limped to the SUV where Rocco opened the door without any emotion on his face. Daniello followed behind me with a snide comment.
“Rocco, you must find a red hair south woman and give her whiskey. That is an order!” He laughed loudly and clapped his back before he climbed in behind me. I felt the pain in my chest as I tried hard to stifle my laugh and glared out the window.
Fuck, it was me and completely me.
I’d shied away from every single thing Daniello had done to show affection and responded only to the sexual advances. I had to own that. I didn’t need him to care, but in a small way, I wanted him to. The truth serum had shown that to him and to me.
His laughing slowed as I remained trained on the world passing by us. “I don’t need love, Daniello. I don’t.”
“I know,” he said, agreeing with me. “You are not that kind of woman. But every woman deserves appreciation.”
“And respect,” I added, pulling my leg up slightly to inspect my ankle. “What I’m trying to say is…”
“When you talk you want me to hear you,” he said simply.
I nodded.
“I have not missed a word,” he assured me.
I felt a small amount of emotion break in my throat at his words and hid it by clearing it and giving him an embarrassed smile.
“I guess you know why I stick to wine,” I offered quickly.
“You will drink whiskey with me.” The car stopped before I had a chance to ask if he was serious. For such a bad man, his sense of perverse humor seemed to be intact.
I asked as much as we entered my condo. “What kind of bad things do you do?”
He paused mid-stride in my living room, his back to me as I realized instantly I’d gone too far.
I felt the shift in the air as Daniello sharply turned on me, his features simmering.
Taking a few tentative steps forward, I took a leap. “I own part of a legitimate business and have no interest in seeing all the hard work I’ve done disappear due to guilt by association. Can you guarantee your work won’t interfere with my life in any way and won’t jeopardize my company?”
His answer was quick. “No.”
“Personally or professionally?”
“Professionally seems…unlikely. Personally depends on you.”
I tilted my head with more questions.
“Taylor, I will not give you more. We have already discussed this.” He turned away from me then walked to the kitchen, searching the cabinets. He pulled out a bottle and placed two pills on the counter, pushing them toward me and filling a glass full of water from the dispenser.
The mood was suddenly…awkward.
I did the only thing I knew to do at that moment. I let him lead. Taking the pills from the counter, I popped them in my mouth and downed the water. He knew I’d drank too much. It felt strange to be cared for in this way and yet I welcomed it. I stood watching him as he studied me. It looked like he was trying to figure out what to do with me.
“Maybe I’m just not going to be good at this,” I said, giving him an out. As much as he intrigued me, as much as I wanted another round with him, and as much as my time with him had been anything but boring, I had to admit I was acting a total fool. I was out of my element because, in a sense, we were dating.
“You are horrible at this.”
I grinned. “Thank you.”
“I like your south accent,” he said, taking a step forward.
“It’s southern,” I said, correcting him and then cursing myself for it. I held my hand up. “I’m going to bed before I say another word.” He smiled deep in reply. I paused, completely unsure of how this was supposed to go. I forced myself to think back to college when I was in my first adult relationship. He was nothing like Daniello. It took my ex the better part of a year to get sleeping over privileges. The dynamic between us then was completely different, and I was not cut out for it then or this…whatever the hell this was. I simply turned and headed toward my room to leave him to go as he pleased. Disheartened by the fact I would not be having spectacular sex and would most likely wake up alone and with a headache, I stripped to my panties and slipped into bed. I tossed for what seemed like an eternity, curious if Daniello was still in my condo. His suitcase was still beside my bed so I knew at some point he would return. Unless he’d decided I really wasn’t worth the trouble and made a beeline for the door. And honestly, I wouldn’t blame him.
I was so fucked up.
He hadn’t advanced on me sexually the way he had our last meeting. He hadn’t really tried. I pictured his naked body as he’d showered earlier and found myself writhing in bed. I tried to relax as the whiskey continued to course through me. Restlessness won as I wandered to my living room, slightly dazed to find him watching a muted CNN in my large lounger. I looked at the clock on my mantle and saw only an hour had passed since I’d attempted to fall asleep.
“You cannot sleep?” he asked, sensing my presence before I’d made it known. I kept my mouth shut as I circled his chair and saw his eyes light when he saw my dress or lack thereof. I stood there motionless, waiting for any sign from him that this, me, was something he still wanted. Nearly naked and vulnerable for a man for the first time in years, I stood waiting on something, anything.
He gave me nothing as his dark eyes met my green.
Complete opposites, nothing in common, nothing to bond with but our shared bodies, I gave in to the one thing we both wanted.
My intention was clear as I watched him watch me. Nipples peaking and sex clenching, I slowly knelt in front of him as he lifted his hand to cup my chin, rubbing a smooth thumb over my parted lips. I pulled on his jeans after unfastening them, and he lifted his hips to help me as his fat cock sprang free and stood proudly. I moaned and licked the tip of his thumb before diving to clench him betwee
n my lips. He let out a long puff of air as I sucked greedily, stroking every inch of him with my tongue. I looked up to watch his face tense and his dark eyes absorb my licks. I inhaled as his scent hit me, sucking harder, needing more of him, wanting more, craving his hands and his hunger. He gripped my hair hard and pushed me on him slightly in encouragement as he thrust his hips up and began to fuck my mouth. I felt the wetness slide out of me between my thighs and soak my panties as I swallowed him whole, willing him to come in my mouth. It wasn’t an apology, but it was as close as he was getting to one.
“Fucking mouth,” he hissed as he thrust his hips up hard before pulling me off of him and wrapping both hands around my neck, bringing me up to his waiting lips. We collided, tongues thrashing as I moaned into him, my bare breasts rubbing against his ready and soaked cock. Still locked in a kiss, I felt him move to the edge of the recliner, his legs encasing me as I remained kneeling before him. Limbs burning with need, I gripped his length between us and stroked. He pulled out of our kiss and grabbed my hips, lifting me from my knees and turning me away from him. Bending me over slightly with his hands, he rid me of my panties. I stood, legs parted in breathless anticipation.
“Perfect,” he growled as his finger tested then entered me slowly. I was lost in sensation as he once again gripped my hips, easing me into his lap and onto his rock hard cock. I gasped at the feeling of fullness as he impaled me inch by inch. Once completely seated, I felt his breath on my neck before I felt his tongue as it traveled from my neck to below my ear. He reached between my thighs and adjusted us so I was leaning back slightly and began to stroke my clit in slow circles. I was gasping repeatedly at every new sensation as he then reached around with his free hand and stroked my nipple. Trapped in a world of complete bliss, I moaned loudly as he began to move his hips, prompting me to do the same. Placing my arms on the side of the recliner, I lifted myself up and ground my hips as I lowered, meeting Daniello’s solid thrusts.
Whimpering and so completely full, I rested my head against his shoulder as his solid cock stretched me.
“You fit me now.” His voice was low and filled with threatening lust.
Unable to take all the sensation, I burst around him, gripping the hand on my clit and the one kneading my breast, encouraging them to move faster.
