by Avery Aster
“A girl? This is about a girlfriend?”
“Wait, let me explain. One weekend, we camped out on the beach. Drank wine, baked lobsters and made love all night. I loved her. Our nights together felt tender. And I thought she loved me. I was wrong.” I hate this.
“This is over a first love? I never would’ve imagined. It’s beautiful, Massimo.” Lex sat beside him and put her hand in his lap. He appreciated her trying to understand.
“Beautiful is not how I would describe it. What Marcella and I shared was special, at first.”
Lex’s eyes widened with curiosity. “At first?”
“We packed up our things and hiked back to the palace, proud to tell my padre we agreed to marry. I assumed he’d approve. For once, I’d have his support. When we arrived home, it became obvious Marcella was in conversations with my padre.”
“What do you mean?”
“Padre and Marcella laughed, going into the study as old chums. Come to find out Padre retained her all along.”
Lex’s hand shot up to her mouth, trying to cover her horror and shock. “He paid her to sleep with you?”
“Marcella was the daughter from his hires appointed to seduce me. Show me the ways to sleeping with a woman.”
She shook her head. “I’ve never heard—why would Marcella do such a thing?”
“For tuition money to study at Sapienza Università di Roma. Her ambition isn’t what bothered me.”
“I’m sorry, Massimo.” She leaned into him, soothing while urging him to continue, turning her face to his.
“After Marcella left the palazzo with her money, my padre rubbed my face in it. Padre slept with her. For at least a year, since she turned eighteen, he screwed her. He boasted his orchestration to teach me a lesson. I was never to let my emotions get in the way as a royal. The Tittoni throne courted and married for political or financial power, never for love. Marcella was, in his eyes, for sex only, not marriage.”
“Why would your father do such a thing?” Lex’s chest rose up and down.
“My parents’ marriage was arranged by my grandfather. My madre, princess from the Royal House of Oro, brought the Tittonis noble esteem.” Massimo hoped Lex would see what he’d missed out on. “Don’t you want a man who will love you for you? Not for your money? Not for your fame or your family? Someone who is with you because they refuse to imagine being without you?”
She took a long pause and then revealed, “The week my father killed himself, he remained plagued with regrets from years past. One was his open relationship with Mom. He wished I would not end up like they did.”
He squeezed her hand tight. “Then why do you ask me to have casual sex with you? Do you not see you deserve an opportunity for a real relationship?”
“Massimo, I haven’t been with anyone in forever. I know it’s not an excuse, but I get lonely. I miss being touched, being hugged, being loved. Sounds desperate, but I can’t help it.”
Me, too, bella. Me, too. “I want those things for you. I did not have such opportunity. I never will be able to give myself to a woman again, with sincerity.” He clenched his jaw, not wishing his words to be true. Time proved otherwise.
Massimo stood and reached for her shoes to collect their belongings. “Let us join the others.” He was all talked out. I need a drink.
“Thank you for sharing your past with me. It doesn’t change my desire to have fun with you.” A wicked smile crossed her lips. “But I’ll try to respect your wishes.”
It wasn’t her self-restraint that worried him. It was his own.
“Bellinis? They make everything better.”
“You may have as many as you like.”
He extended his hand to help her up. “A delizioso ristorante is around the corner. They have a private room we may dine in and be left alone.”
“Sounds perfect.” She turned to grab her purse.
“Don’t forget.” Massimo handed her the jeweled stilettos.
“These are Austrian crystals, right?” She held the shoes up to the moonlight. A sparkle christened her face and illuminated her eyes.
“No.”
“White sapphires?” Her eyes squinted closer to examine the gems.
“The footwear is from the House of Ivea, a gift from their family. It’s from the Tittoni estate. You are the first to wear them. The shoes belonged to my mother. And they are diamonds.”
Shocked, she brought her hand around her neck, unable to comprehend his response, and mocked a choke before speaking again. “With my luck, I’ll snap the heel and break ’em. I’m gonna leave here barefoot.”
“Don’t be assurda. Put them on.” He wrapped his arm around her.
Footloose & Bellini Smashed
I love having her on my arm. Massimo was proud to show Lex off in public.
“Lex! Lex! Lex!” the paparazzi shouted the minute they stepped outside from The Fashion Ball.
“Are you guys dating?” shouted a gossip columnist, attempting to get in their face.
“Scusi, scusi.” Massimo realized Lex wasn’t comfortable with the spotlight, and he shielded her from the photographers approaching. Why is she camera-shy?
Tittoni’s royal security blocked the reporter from coming closer.
“This is crazy, such a privacy invasion. How do you manage?” she asked.
“The Tittonis don’t have privacy, Lex.”
Once they made it clear they wanted to be left alone, his royal protection guards kept the photographers at a distance.
Da Vittorio was two blocks from The Fashion Ball. Massimo asked for a private dining room in the back. They were whisked away immediately, both happy to be far from the prying eyes of reporters and other designers alike.
“Per favore.” He held Lex’s chair out, inhaling the kiwi smell from her hair when he leaned in to push her closer to the edge.
“Thank you.” She placed her purse on the empty seat next to them.
“Prego.” He sat across from her, his feet shuffling with hers. Massimo kept his hand on her knee and didn’t take a menu. He’d much rather gaze at her. “Pasta?” He ordered his favorite dish for them to share.
The waiter brought a Bellini pitcher over then poured them both a glass.
Massimo handed her a flute, raising his glass for a toast. “To being friends.”
Her right eyebrow arched when the word “friend” was spoken. She clanged her crystal and replied, “With benefits.” Lex sipped and gave him a wink with a shoulder roll.
Bella, you come at me one hundred miles an hour, driving my Lamborghini toward my heart. I drive cars fast, but I love women slow. You have to let me lead, bella. “How is it?” He noticed her lips twist up into a smile after the first swallow.
Nodding to confirm, she said, “Mmm, yum. The Bellini is sweet. I crave sugary things.” Her lower lip caught the glass’s rim as she raised her head back and gulped. Lex reached for the pitcher and poured herself another glass.
“Bella, slow down. We have all night.” He felt a slight kick to his chair. What do we have here? Lifting the white tablecloth, he blinked.
Two bare feet tailgated his cock.
“Bella?”
“My toes hurt,” she pouted. Lex blinked with her innocent-looking green eyes and licked her round, full lips before she begged, “Will you please massage them? I’ve not waltzed since my coming-out parties.”
“Sì,” he agreed and held both feet under the table between his legs. Massimo rested her heels on his chair’s seat. Bella, you are relentless. Inspired, he held her feet and applied slight pressure.
A facial expression extending beyond gratification highlighted her features. Her pleasurable grin made him reflect on the day’s earlier enjoyments— like eating her pussy.
God, you were so wet, so tight. I loved tasting your sweet peach juice. Watching you squirm and wiggle under my body. You wanted me inside you. I loved my fingers in you, loved massaging your clit with my tongue. Struggling not to make his own arousal known, he kep
t his stare upon her as soft as his caresses to her feet. The urge to reach over and kiss her became overwhelming. He let his mind go wherever it wanted. He wasn’t going to act.
Her foot arched, rubbing against his slacks, kneading his balls and stroking his dick. “Stop!” He swatted her toes. I’m fucking leaking precum again. Jesus, bella.
Again, she pressed her foot hard against his tuxedo pants, rubbing him.
With his cock swelling, he reached under the table and undid his waist’s button, allowing the head to pop free. Oh, Dio mio. Biting his inside cheek to maintain composure, he massaged her foot harder and sat back in his chair.
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 feel 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 finally 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 don’t 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 about thirteen, I was tortured, day after day with every single magazine issue.” Her eyes glassed over and she shook it off.
“Scusi.” Massimo reached for her hand.
“I learned to avoid the camera to survive.”
“Hence why you prefer to be called Lex, sì?” 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, since 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 as 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 that 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, however. 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, so 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’m 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. Magnifica. How old you are in this picture?” he asked.
Skinny in the photo, ‘Alexandra the Great’ must’ve been at a younger stage.
He pressed his thumb harder into 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, so he would know a thing or two regarding half-siblings.
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, a major responsibility.”
“Which guy took your virginity?” Massimo asked as he moved her cocktail to the corner table, replacing it with a water glass. Familiar with her game, she’d get drunk and seduce him then act as if nothing happened the following day. 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 a 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 ar
e 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.”
“Uh-huh.” She reached for her iPhone and slid it back into her purse. “They’re 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 was 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 wickedly. When she settled from her giggles, she replied, “The tour today was unique—sharp tongue lessons, Swiss chocolates, and oil paintings. Rocco is a handful.” She gave him a seductive glare, alluding to something, but 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 it may have been her first night out in a long time. He wanted to see her enjoy herself more and not worry about the press.
