by Avery Aster
She rubbed her foot alongside his cock.
I want you. I want to take you home. I want you naked. I want you in my arms. I want to make love to you.
“Masi, you have no idea how good your hands are on my feet.” She lowered herself in the chair and rested her elbows on the table’s edge. Her face framed by her hands.
She is beautiful. I want to make her mine.
Lex seemed exhausted. She fought her body’s need for rest, replacing it with her relentless urge to flirt.
“The media tonight loved you. For being the publicity guru—you are uncomfortable with having your picture taken. Why?”
A reddening in her cheeks signaled the possibility he’d asked the wrong question. When he felt her foot stiffen in his grip, he received confirmation Lex and the spotlight didn’t agree with one another. She set her flute back on the table.
He was unsure if her apparent flush was from the bubbles or the question.
She cleared her throat. “Thanks to Brill, Inc., Easton Essentials is well known with the media. However, I’m behind the scenes. I shy away from the camera, always have.” She gulped. “This is delicious.”
“Why? You do not strike me as being shy.”
“I’m not the face on the Easton Essentials label. We don’t use a personality per se, hence why Girasoli didn’t know Lex was a she.” She joked and sipped while he worked her feet. “Also, Brill Inc.’s strategy avoids using my father’s legacy for promotion. The clothing speaks for itself, no gimmicks. It’s the best way to create customer equity.” Lex’s sharp brow, which challenged his toast and coordinated well with her sharp tongue, spiked up again.
“If you put yourself front and center, you may increase your sales even more. Why avoid the spotlight?” It now made sense why the press in Milan was courting her, even more than he was familiar with. They’d been longing to get Eddie Easton’s daughter on film. “I do not agree with your strategy.”
“As a kid I didn’t photograph well.” Keeping her lips on the glass, she finished a second flute.
Massimo didn’t dare tell her to slow down. He sensed Lex wouldn’t care to be told what to do. “Bah! Hard to imagine you as camera shy.” She resembled the Hollywood actress Charlize Theron.
“I was left alone a lot.” Lex’s voice saddened. “Neglected children sometimes turn to food. And the tabloids tagged me as Alexandra the Great. From around age nine ’til puberty I was tortured, day after day with every single magazine issue.” Her eyes glassed up and she shook it off.
“Susi.” Massimo reached for her hand.
“I learned to avoid the camera to survive.”
“Hence why you prefer to be called Lex?” He gripped her right foot tighter in his hands between his legs. You are beautiful, bella. Who cares what the press writes?
“Lex is a nickname I picked at boarding school, my reinvention.” She poured herself another glass. “Taddy is huge on individuality. She pushed for me to have an identity free from my folks—even as kids.”
“We should all have a Taddy growing up.” He winked and realized he didn’t have many friends at the royal palace. Jemma was pretty much it on the island with Marcella. With his fingers, he worked her foot’s sole and pulled on her toes to stretch her feet out. “Buono?”
“Ohhh, yes, yes, yes. Right there.” She slouched farther in her chair gripping the table’s edge. He thought for a second she’d moan, but she bit her lip and stifled her apparent ecstasy.
The server brought their pasta bowls. “Buon appetito.”
Steam rose to Lex’s cheeks. She stirred her noodles around on her plate. Fresh garlic and basil aromas filled the room, making him ravenous. Lex held up her fork and spoon. After swirling the pasta around, she slid a little bite into her cute mouth. “It’s delicious, Masi, good choice. Thank you.” She rotated her fork for a second bite.
You are loveable, Signorina Easton. I will miss you when you leave Milano.
Up to this point, he didn’t think about food. Curious to see if a little starch in her belly would give her more energy or put her to sleep, he watched her eat. Massimo hoped it would prevent the alcohol from making her more aggressive. He appreciated her New York ways, but he’d envisioned her being a bit more relaxed. Massimo understood her complexities with Fashion Week coming up and the stress from Easton Essentials. He admired her bravery.
“Grazie, for sharing your story with me.” Massimo yearned to know more about her. “Did you have many friends at boarding school?”
“Taddy went with me. The Brillfords struggled through a nasty separation. Her father felt it was best she leave Manhattan. My mom went to rehab and my dad was out on tour. Our parents each agreed to send us to The Avon Porter Academy in Cheshire, Connecticut.” Reaching into her purse, she withdrew her iPhone. She turned the screen on and handed it to him.
Bump! Bump!
A tap on his chair reminded him to pay attention to her toes.
He grasped the iPhone with one hand and continued to rub her foot with the other. He’d forgo eating anything to keep touching her. “What is this I am looking at?” A photo featuring three pretty girls with two handsome boys stared back at him.
“I’m the blonde in the corner holding the flower.”
“Look at you, magnifico. How old you are in this picture?” he asked.
Skinny in this photo, Alexandra the Great must’ve been at a younger stage.
He pressed his thumb harder in to the heel’s arch and watched her shoulders relax against the chair’s back.
“This picture is from junior year. I was sixteen. The redhead in the middle is Taddy.” She sat up in her chair fighting her drowsiness.
Massimo commented, “Minus the difference in your hair colors, you two are sisters.” The girls possessed twin resemblances. Massimo questioned if the infamous Eddie Easton fathered them both with different women. His own padre spread his seed across the Atlantic.
Lex touched her hair and flipped it back over her shoulders. “We’re told we look alike. It’s because we grew up close together, shared the same clothing and makeup. We’re a few months apart.” Lex finished off her third cocktail, wiping her lips. Then she said, “The girl in a bob is Viveca Farnworth.”
“Debauchery’s editor—Viveca Farnworth?” If it was the famous Vive, Lex sure did surround herself with high profile friends.
“Uh huh, we’re very proud. Vive is the youngest editor in chief at a major magazine in the country, major responsibility.”
“Which guy took your virginity?” Massimo asked as he moved her cocktail to the corner table. He replaced it with a water glass. Familiar with her game, she’d get drunk and seduce him then tomorrow act as if nothing happened. He didn’t put up with such nonsense.
Her eyes narrowed in disapproval. “Neither. Though back then Taddy, Vive and I wished otherwise. They’re hot, right? They’re both gay and have been since the day I met them.” She pressed her foot against his erect cock, punishing him for taking her drink. “The Leonardo DiCaprio lookalike is Blake Morgan. He’s genius and works with Taddy at Brill, Inc. Blake spearheaded branding for Easton Essentials.”
Massimo’s attention shot up to catch Lex reach across and take his cocktail. Bad bella. He shook his head in disapproval. “You are going to be sick.”
Ignoring his comment, she continued with his drink and informed, “The hot Latino in the photo is Miguel Santana. He’s an artist, quite successful. We all went to Avon Porter together.”
“Sì, small world, Miguel gave a show in Roma a few months ago. I bought a few pieces.” Lex circulated with high profile friends.
“Uh huh.” She reached for her iPhone and slid it back into her purse. “They are my posse, my family. I love ’em and would do anything for them.”
“Nice to see you have many friends in your life who care about you.” Massimo hesitated before he said, “My favorite work from Miguel’s is hanging above my bed.” He’d debated on whether his artwork purchase and Lex knowing Miguel w
as a sign. Do not give in to temptation.
“Miguel’s hanging in your private sleeping quarters—you don’t say.” She didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll have to take a picture and text it to him. If you let this new friend see your bedroom. Rocco didn’t show me the prince’s sleeping quarters during my tour.” Her foot worked his slacks into a frenzy.
“Rocco mentioned you ate a few chocolates during your tour.” Tempted to unzip his fly, he didn’t. He kept his smile and manipulated her foot muscles.
Lex laughed and her face flushed wicked. When she settled from her giggles, she replied, “The tour today was unique—sharp tongue lessons, Swiss chocolates, oil paintings—Rocco is a handful.” She gave him a seductive glare alluding to something, he didn’t know what.
“The Prosecco makes you aggressive, Miss Easton.”
“It’s not the alcohol. It’s your tuxedo and the beautiful body underneath it.” A burp came from her lips. “Excuse me.” She covered her mouth with embarrassment.
“We are done, my bella. I will take you home.”
“Sounds good to me,” Her eyelids fluttered as she stood. “Can you carry me out? Then I won’t have to put my shoes back on?” She balanced herself against a chair.
“Paparazzi are outside.” He pointed to the front gauging if she’d make the walk. Her squinted eyes followed his direction. “You are going to stand tall. Sì?” He hoped the photographers wouldn’t catch her drunk. Lex gave the impression tonight may be her first night out in a long time. He wanted to see her enjoy herself more and not worry about the press.
Lex confirmed with a nod and held on to Massimo’s arm sliding her shoes on. “Oucha magoucha!” she squealed.
“Watch your step.” He held her arm and walked her out to the limo waiting for them.
A journalist shouted for her attention. “Lex! Are you and the prince dating?”
She scowled, turning her head, not understanding the question.
A photographer snapped a photo calling her attention. “Signorina Easton.”
“No. No. No.” Lex drew her arms up to her face to block the flash.
“Come on, Miss Easton. Give our readers what they want,” the photographer encouraged her, speaking in English.
“Eh fuck it.” Confidence came over her. Massimo watched her chest rise. She let his hand go and stepped out from his shadow. Lex put her hand on her hip giving the press lineup her bare right leg. Her red dress was elegant and not risqué. The implication and tease with the press made them cheer.
POP. Flash! The flashbulbs went off.
Lex gave them a wave.
Clickety click. POP. Flash! The press applauded as if she’d given them a show.
Blowing them a kiss, she finished, “Good night, fellas. Arrivederci.”
Massimo loved it when she tried to speak Italian. “Good job, bella,” He held the limo door open for her and helped Lex with the final two steps to the car.
“Masi, let’s hit your bedroom.” She swatted for his ass again.
He grabbed her just as she started to trip and fall against the limo’s door.
“I wanna see Miguel’s artwork.” She pressed on unscathed, her doll face blinking as if nothing happened.
He held his breath sliding her into the backseat. You are bossy, and I know you want to see more than Miguel’s artwork.
Chapter Twelve
A Hung Morning for a Hangover
“Woof! Woof! Woof!”
Huh? What the…
A forceful snore resonated in Lex’s ears, similar to a brass trumpet booming off, commanding attention, and resembling a royal laugh she’d grown fond of.
Her dry eyes blinked as she felt a heavy arm cinched around her naked waist. Holding her breath, she looked under the woven sheets entangling them. She was in the buff. The prince also, lying next to her, his manhood up against her backside as if it was another average morning.
But nothing was average about this situation.
Cock hard and moist with precum, it was obvious Massimo’s morning woody rose epic in every proportion.
Earth to my muffin—Earth to my muffin, do you remember this? I sure as hell don’t. They’d left The Fashion Ball, drank Bellini cocktails and feasted on various homemade pastas.
Kaboom. A sharp pain hit her forehead. She’d gotten drunk. Flashbacks to the prince carrying her up to his bed and taking off her Valentino sat in her mind. But she must’ve blacked out. Why did her tongue taste peachy?
Dragging her closer across the mattress into his chest, Massimo muttered, “Buongiorno, my principessa.” But he didn’t bother to open his eyes.
“Woof! woof! The dogs barked from the hallway. So close. So loud.
“Nino!” Massimo shouted toward the bedroom door for the dog to stop barking. “Those dogs drive me nuts.”
Okay, now my head is killing me.
Tk, tk, tk. A faint scratching at the door replaced the dogs barking.
“Good morning to you too,” she responded.
He went back to sleep.
Maybe having a woman in his bed remained the norm. But for the last few years she’d slept alone.
Not wanting him to doze off she nudged him. “Did we—”
“Make love?” he finished with morning grog in his voice. “Do you not think your breasts”—he ran his hand over her right nipple—“would be sensitive and sticky from me licking them all night long?” Massimo tweaked her left nipple with his fingers to say, “Bad girl for not remembering.”
Arching her back, she wanted more. “Maybe.” She closed her eyes into darkness as Massimo continued giving her body the TLC she’d craved. Lex’s nipples became aroused and sensitive as he licked around each, sucking on one, then the other. This feels so…good. I forgot how wonderful waking up with a man in your bed is. Oh, I love mornings.
His attention turned from her left breast to her right, and she became wet. Massimo’s lips circled wider upon each lick. His fingers glided over her breasts down her stomach and rested at her pussy. He cupped his palm between her legs and grunted, “You are wet, bella.”
“Uh huh,” Lex confirmed. She’d be even more wet if he kept this up. My pussy has been wet since the second I met you.
Massimo’s pupils nearly swallowed up the colored irises. His gaze grew serious and intense. “Do you not think your clit would be swollen this morning from my cock giving it the attention you deserve?”
“Possibly.” He’s is such a tease.
Holding himself up by his arms, he brought his body over hers. He looked her over with seductive intent. Black curls messed over his forehead. Full and kissable lips, long minx eyelashes, and a five o’clock shadow decorated his face, making his jawline even more pronounced. With his body pressed against hers, Massimo’s sweet leather and musky smell was enough to make her get drunk all over again.
Lex felt crushed under his muscles and weight.
Massimo’s cock rubbed her pussy lips.
She’d rather go for her fuck-it bucket than beg and be rejected a second time. Though, her urge to scream fuck me heated up inside her. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.
“And do you not think your tushie would be on fire this morning from me pounding your tight asshole—all night long?” Cupping his hands under her body, she felt desired in his embrace.
“Definitely.” She wrapped her legs around Massimo, holding on to his arms. Lex wanted him to fill her with his cock. She imagined making love to him would be an all day affair. Her ass didn’t hurt, her pussy wasn’t swollen, and her skin wasn’t sticky. “I don’t remember much. Can you refresh my—”
Cock planted at her pussy’s lips, she felt him tempting penetration. His fingers glided around her asshole. Massimo brought his face over hers and kissed her with a nip to the lip. “You became drunk, bossy and demanding I take you to bed. But you fell asleep the second we came home.”
“Did I?” She remembered now, and he spoke the truth. She hugged him, running her arms against his developed shoulders. G
od, he’s built.
“You are the first woman ever to fall asleep in my arms without us—you know.”
“Aww—I’m honored. Do I get a watch or a pin from the Women You Haven’t Screwed club?” Unable to retract the shit she spewed, she hated her own sarcasm. She gave him a nod to say sorry. “I admire your restraint. You’re always composed, never sarcastic. I can see you thinking before you speak. It’s written all over your face.”
“I am happy to teach you. It will take us many years to curb your mouth.” He smiled, but she knew he was serious.
Birdie and Eddie as influences weren’t any help on the matter of etiquette.
He continued, “In all honesty, about last night—you are easy to sleep next to. My bella smells fruity, and your skin is soft.” He caught her earlobe between his lips and sucked in, tracing his tongue over the C shape, sending heated breaths and a snarl into her senses.
Ohhhh not the ears. It drives me insane—ohhhhhh. She straightened her legs as her clit tightened.
Knock, knock. A thump at the door interrupted and a familiar voice from the other side called, “Buongiorno, I have your breakfast and paper, sir. May I come in?”
“Go away!” Massimo shouted.
“Your Majesty, my hands are rather full,” Rocco agonized.
“One second.” Lex gripped Massimo’s jaw in her palm and tapped his cheek with her fingers and kissed him.
Massimo covered her with a sheet and then wrapped another blanket around his waist and stood, opening the door for Rocco. “Grazie.”
Rocco entered and deposited the tray by the bed. Lex saw two espresso pots, two fruit cups, juice, two melons, a brioche basket and the newspaper. “Scusa for the dogs waking you. They’ve been crying at your door all night. Your Majesty, they aren’t used to sleeping without you.”
“Per favore keep the dogs outside.”
“Sì, Your Majesty.” Rocco nodded and left the room, giving Lex a wink on his way out.
She smiled, turning her face over her shoulder. “So cute. The dogs sleep with you. You don’t have a harem loaded with girls in bed with you—but pooches.”
He rolled his eyes in obvious annoyance at her comment. “Let me get you a robe.” He dropped the sheet covering him and stood—naked. Cock out, he turned his dimpled ass for the bathroom on the opposite side.
