I splashed some cold water on my face, then let it warm up before wetting a washcloth for Peter. I almost tossed it to him and ordered him to clean himself up, but that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to care for him. I wanted to treat him like royalty. I wanted to make him feel special and… loved.
He deserved that. He deserved the world, and that was what I wanted to give him. But I was afraid I’d been the hard man I’d become at eighteen for far too long to change, even if it was possible for me to be the man he wanted.
I sat on the side of the bed. Peter watched me somewhat warily. Did he think I was freaking out over the kiss? What would he say if he knew that wasn’t it, that my biggest fear was how he would react if he knew I was in love with him? I wasn’t ready to tell him. I wasn’t sure I ever would be.
I took the washcloth, cleaned off his stomach, then wrapped it around his cock and stroked him a few times. He hardened under my touch. I’d known he would even though it hadn’t been long since he’d come. He was always eager for me, just like I was for him. We were a good match in bed. There was no doubt about that, even if we were a disaster everywhere else.
“Come on,” I said, releasing his dick. “We’re going to my room. I want to sit on the balcony.”
Peter frowned. “It will be cold out there.”
“I have a heater, and I’ll keep you warm.”
“All right,” he said as if I’d given him a choice. One thing I’d learned about Peter was that he didn’t need choices. He trusted me in a way no one outside my family ever had. People did what I said because they were fucking scared of me—and they should be—but Peter wanted to obey me. Sure, I’d been with plenty of men who had claimed to be submissive, men who did what I said and liked it when I was rough with them, but it was all a game to them or a ploy to get something from me. With Peter, submission was totally different. He longed for my dominance.
I pulled my pants back on and dressed Peter in his silky robe, then led him to my room. He sat on the loveseat I’d placed on my balcony so I could recline while I sat out there. I tucked a blanket around him before stepping back inside to pour whiskey into two glasses. I opened my finest Cuban cigars and selected one. I didn’t smoke often, but it was definitely a night that called for one. I set Peter’s drink in front of him, and he frowned. “I don’t usually drink anything strong.”
“Tonight you do.” I placed my glass down on the small table that just fit in front of the loveseat. Then I moved to the railing, lit up my cigar, took a long pull from it, and blew out smoke rings.
Peter made a strangled sound as if he’d nearly choked on his whiskey. “I didn’t know people could really do that. I thought that was just something in movies.”
“I can do a lot of things most people can’t, but this is easy. I could teach you.”
“No thanks. I don’t smoke. You shouldn’t either.”
Rather than being annoyed by his words, the knowledge that he cared warmed me. “You sound like my brother. Sometimes he acts like a fucking health freak, running ten miles a day, refusing to enjoy the pleasure of a cigar.”
Peter looked unconvinced. “He eats everything Lola makes for him.”
I snorted. “Well, he is Italian.”
Peter laughed, and that joyous sound pushed away the last of the fear I’d been hanging on to since I saw Peter being dragged away from me.
“What about Devil?” Peter asked.
It took me a moment to realize what he was asking. I was too busy being mesmerized by how fucking good he looked on my balcony. I’d never brought a man out here. This was my retreat, the place I went to be alone. Even when it was fucking freezing, I often stood out here and looked at the lights of the city in the evenings.
“Devil fucking loves these things,” I said, raising my cigar then flicking ash over the balcony railing.
I turned and saw Peter gazing at me with a dreamy smile.
“You better not be thinking about my cousin.”
He laughed again. “I’m just watching you. You’re so…”
“What?”
“You really look like a mob boss right now.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Yeah. You’re all danger and power, and you fit so well here, among all this.” He gestured around, indicating the balcony and my room.
If he thought this house was extravagant, I couldn’t wait until I could take him to our house in Weston. “There’s no point in doing what we do if you’re not going to enjoy the spoils.”
“I guess not, but there’s always someone wanting to kill you, isn’t there?”
“Or kill my family or take everything I’ve worked for or all of the above.” I took another long pull on the cigar and blew out the smoke.
“And it’s still worth it?”
“You name anything you want, and I’ll get it for you.”
“I want to know you’re safe.”
I shook my head. “You know that’s not what I mean. No one, not even a nondescript accountant who’s never done anything more criminal than drive sixty in a fifty-five can promise you nothing will happen to them. Any of us could get hit by a car tomorrow.”
Peter scowled at me, and I smiled. I loved that he wanted to protect me too. “If you don’t tell me what you want, I’ll just keep buying you gifts until I find something that wows you.”
“You think I’m not wowed by everything you’ve done? I’m sure this robe cost more than the nicest outfit I’ve ever owned. I’ve never had clothes like the ones you gave me, and my bedroom here is about the size of my whole apartment. But I… I don’t need those things.”
“I want you to have them.”
Peter sighed. “I know and… thank you.”
I nodded. “Better. And I will keep giving you gifts because I want to.” And it’s a way I can show you what I might not ever be able to say.
“The one thing I always really wanted was a pony. I know that’s so cliché, but I had a stuffed one, and I wanted it to be real. I never asked for one because I knew it wouldn’t happen. We lived in the city in various shitty apartments, rarely the same one for more than six months or so. On the very rare occasions my parents had more money than they needed to scrape by, they spent most of it partying or blew it gambling. They gave me the basics, and they weren’t cruel, but—”
“You deserve more than that.”
He shrugged. “No more than anyone else does.”
I blew out more smoke rings, hoping to make him smile. “Any man I claim deserves more because he’s someone special. I’ve never brought a man to my home, Peter, never kept anyone around for this long. “
Peter’s eyes widened. “Lucien, I don’t think—”
I held up my hand. “I didn’t ask you to think. I asked you to obey.”
He scowled at me as I put out my cigar. I picked up my whiskey, drained it, and set the empty glass down next to Peter’s. He’d only taken a few sips.
“You really don’t like strong drinks?”
He shook his head. “I know it’s supposed to relax me, but being here, talking to you, isolated from everything that happened tonight, that’s relaxing enough, not to mention what you did to me in bed.”
I smiled. His words soothed me more than the whiskey ever could. I would show no mercy to anyone who dared to make a move on my home. This place was sacred to me. I’d grown up here, loved by both my parents. Angelo—and for the most part, Devil—had grown up here too. The Riccis could bring a war to our businesses, they could bring it to my headquarters, they could chase me down in a dark alley, but no one came here without my permission.
I sat on the couch next to Peter, pulled his legs over mine, and slid my hand under the blanket so I could massage his feet. The sound he made when I dug my palm into his arch was so much like the ones he made when I fucked him that my cock hardened. I needed a distraction. “Tell me more about the pony you wanted.”
Peter laughed. “You’ll think it’s silly.”
“I h
ave never, from the moment I saw you behind the reception desk in my office, thought anything about you was silly.”
He looked startled. “Most people think I am or that I’m just insignificant.”
I gripped his jaw firmly and forced him to look at me. “Peter Kelly, there is nothing insignificant or unimportant about you. You’re intelligent and a hell of a lot stronger than you think you are.”
“I’m not—”
“Do not contradict me. Haven’t you learned what happens when you do?”
He sighed. “If you knew more about me, you might think differently.”
“I’d like to say you’ve seen the worst of me, but you haven’t. Those men had a quick and easy death. Believe me, I’ve done far worse. So don’t try to make me think there’s any way I’d find you less than worthy.”
Peter started to speak again, but I returned my focus to massaging his feet, and he seemed to forget his words. He leaned back against the sofa cushions and closed his eyes.
“There’s a place I want to take you soon.”
“Mmmm. Yeah?”
I grinned at how blissed out he was now. “Yes. It’s one of my favorite places to go when I need to think. I’ve been going there to sit and enjoy the view since I was a kid.”
“Where is it?”
“Have you ever been to Fort Revere.”
He shook his head.
“It’s in Hull. My uncle has a waterfront house there. We used to visit him a lot, and my cousins and I liked to sneak up to the fort and play around. Later on, in high school, I’d hide out there with friends when we’d ditch school. It’s never crowded, and it’s not a place tourists go. It’s perfect to just sit and see the city.”
Peter opened his eyes and smiled up at me. “I’d love to go with you some time.”
“When things quiet down, I’ll have Lola pack us a picnic and we’ll go.”
He was silent for several moments, then he said, “I wanted a Shetland pony named Clover.”
“Clover?”
“Yes. That was the name I gave my stuffed one because it came with a book about a pony named Clover. I read it until it fell apart.” Color rose in his face. “I told you it was—”
“It’s perfect.” I pressed against his arch again, and he sighed. “Relax and enjoy this.” For a few moments, he did. I wondered if he might fall asleep under my attention, but then he said, “My parents were killed right in front of me, and all I did was hide. I didn’t do anything to try to stop it. So if you ever think I’m brave or—”
“Who killed them, Peter?” I needed to know. Whoever it was wouldn’t be around much longer.
“A dealer my dad had crossed.”
“Where is he now?”
“He was dead when the police found him.”
He’d probably betrayed someone himself or called too much attention to his boss’s operation. “How old were you when they died?”
“Fourteen. It wasn’t like I was a baby or anything.”
“Fourteen-year-olds aren’t expected to go up against killers. No one is.”
He frowned. “Was that true of you at fourteen?”
“I am an exception in almost every way.” That made him smile as I’d hoped it would. “If you want to tell me what happened, you can.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve never told anyone else. I’m sure my uncle knows I stayed hidden, but he doesn’t hate me for it.”
“No one should hate you for hiding from a killer.” As the words came out of my mouth, I realized I was expecting him not to run or hide from me. Was that at all fair?
23
Peter
A few days later, Lucien came to my desk in the middle of the afternoon. It was unusual for him to come to me rather than summoning me to his office, usually for some illicit activity.
“Come with me,” he demanded without further explanation.
I stood, but before I’d come out from behind my desk, Angelo stormed out of a conference room.
“Where are you going, Luce? We’re supposed to meet with Vinnie and Stefan in a few minutes.”
“You and Devil can handle it.”
Angelo looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “What the fuck do you mean? You never let us handle anything. You always think you have to be in charge.”
“Well, I don’t think that today. Today, I think I’m leaving, and you’re going to handle things.” He turned back to me. “Peter, I said come on.”
I took a step, but Angelo didn’t back down.
“Lucien, what the fuck has gotten into you?”
“I have some important business, and I need Peter to help me with it.”
Angelo made a circle with his fist and moved it up and down, clearly indicating what he thought Lucien was going to do with me. “That’s not important business.”
“You’re walking a fine line, Angelo.”
Angelo snorted, but he didn’t say anything else. Lucien turned to the elevator, and I quickly slipped around my desk and followed him.
“You better not be pissed off if the meeting doesn’t go the way you want it to,” Angelo called as the elevator doors slid open.
Lucien’s eyes turned to ice as he turned to face his brother. “You will make the meeting go the way I want, or there will be serious consequences.”
“What if they don’t—”
“Then make them.”
Lucien had a car waiting for us. Once we were settled in the backseat and the driver had pulled away from the curb, my curiosity became too much to contain. “Where are we going?”
Lucien smiled. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”
“Do you really need to be at—”
“I don’t need to be anywhere but right here. I run this business. The point of being the boss is making whatever decisions I want.”
I knew that wasn’t completely true. Lucien had responsibilities he couldn’t ignore, especially now when the Riccis were trying to move in on his territory. But I also knew nothing I said would change his mind. He took a few phone calls while I simply watched the world pass by outside the windows. We headed out of town, and my mind raced as I tried to figure out where we were going.
After about half an hour, the driver turned off the road and headed up a long gravel driveway which appeared to lead to a farm.
Lucien abruptly ended his call as the driver pulled the car into a small lot near the barn.
As I stared out the window, some horses came running up to the fence beside the car.
No way.
Lucien was not getting me a pony.
How the hell would he even pull that off this fast?
“Lucien, why are we here?”
“You’ll see.” The driver came around and opened the door for us. Lucien held out his hand to me. I took it and exited the car.
A woman hurried over to greet us. “Mr. Marchesi?” Lucien nodded his assent. “I’m Cathy. We spoke on the phone earlier.”
Lucien shook her offered hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Can we see them now?”
Cathy smiled. “Of course.”
Them? Maybe he wanted me to choose from a few different ponies. I didn’t want him to feel like he had to keep buying me things, but I had to admit part of me was thrilled by it. He made me feel special, and even though he’d already done far too much, the more he gave me, the more I felt bound to him. If I were honest with myself, though, the gifts might make me feel indebted to him, but it only took his presence to hold me there. When I was around him, I forgot all the reasons why I should never have agreed to stay.
Cathy led us into the barn, and the second I saw the Shetland pony in the first stall, I fell in love. She was a deep rich brown with a blonde mane and tail, exactly like the stuffed animal I’d had.
“What do you think?” Lucien asked.
“She’s perfect.” I reached out my hand, and she walked over and stuck her nose over the low stall door. I scratched her ears, and she leaned into my touch.
“Her coloring is just like the stuffed pony I had. How did you know?” I was sure I hadn’t mentioned those details the night I’d confessed my childhood longing.
“I called your uncle, and he told me.”
I didn’t know what shocked me more, the fact that Lucien would call my uncle to ask about a stuffed animal I’d had as a kid or the fact that my uncle remembered it that clearly.
“I… Thank you. This is…” I squeezed my eyes shut. I was not going to cry. “I know a lot of people would be more excited by the other things you’ve given me, and I do appreciate them, but this… I’ve never received a better gift.”
“You’re welcome.” He laid a hand against my back. “If you can tear yourself away from Clover for a few minutes, I have something else for you to see as well.”
I gave the pony a pat on her neck and told her I’d be back before following Lucien down the aisle to where Cathy stood in front of another stall.
“This is the other pony we discussed,” she said. “As you can see, he’s much larger. He stands fourteen hands high. Fourteen point two is the tallest an animal can be and still be classified as a pony. He’s calm and perfect for a beginning rider. His name is Prince, but of course you could change that if you wanted to.”
I stared at the Palomino pony. The name fit him perfectly. “He’s beautiful, but I don’t need—”
“You won’t be able to ride Clover,” Lucien reminded me. “If you’re going to frequent the stable, you might as well learn to ride, so I’m getting you a second pony. I’ve arranged for you to have lessons here where the horses will be boarded until I can have a stable built at my family’s house in Weston.”
I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. It was one thing for him to buy me a Shetland pony. I knew money wasn’t an issue for him, and I was sure he’d spent more on all the clothes he’d bought me, but a second pony and riding lessons? That was too much. And the idea that he would have a stable built just for me. “Do you or Angelo ride?”
He shook his head.
“Are you going to learn?”
He gave the gelding a wary glance. “No. It’s not my thing.”
Lucien Page 14
