Barresi: Emily Trilogy: A New Orleans Mafia Romance

by Lux Miller

  I freeze as he speeds up his actions, both in what he’s doing to my body and what he’s doing to his own. I squeak as my insides clench down around his fingers, the rippling pleasure bursting from my core and sending a wave of ecstasy throughout my entire being. Seconds later, I find myself grappling for control of my legs to keep myself standing upright. Luca groans. I feel warm ropes of thick fluid land on my stomach and seep slowly down my body.

  As his body relaxes, he opens his eyes and looks down at me in surprise. “Holy fuck...that was hot…” I nod, my eyes glazed over as my body still responds to his fingers that he has yet to pull from inside me. When he glances down and realizes that his fingers are still buried inside of me, he blushes slightly and pulls them out. With a smirk, he brings them up to his lips and pushes them into his mouth.

  Keeping eye contact with me, he laps every bit of my taste off his fingers. “So you do want to jump my bones…”

  My eyes widen and I shake my head quickly, “Luca, I… this wasn’t my… oh fuck… I’ve screwed up again…”

  Luca shakes his head quickly, fixing my swimsuit so that I am once again decent. Although, I don’t think I’ll ever feel anything but dirty around this man after what we just did. After what I let him do to me. “Emily… you didn’t. But maybe I pushed you too far. I’m sorry about earlier and the last week. I’ve been an asshole. I take my job very seriously, but I know that you’re only doing this because your life depends on it.”

  I blink incredulously at him. Finally finding my voice, I squeak, “That’s your idea of an apology?!?”

  Luca shrugs, a slight reddish tinge creeping up his cheeks. “I, well...no… that was me being a horndog and getting my rocks off at your expense. It won’t happen again… not until you’re sure. I know the relationship is fake, but the sex can be real, Emily. We can fuck each other’s brains out or we can never touch again. But I assure you, I will not make another move until you decide what you want... “

  I know my mouth falls open and Luca makes no motion to close it. He reaches down and tugs his pants back up. By the time he steps away from me, none of his manhood is visible to me and I almost feel let down. This man just pushed me into an Earth-shattering orgasm while being forced to take care of his own. And what am I doing letting him touch me so intimately? Letting him touch my body like a lover would. He’s a fake boyfriend, a charade we’re putting on for the public to save his reputation and my life. I cannot allow myself to see him any other way. Anything else would complicate matters, even if my core is still sizzling with need.

  I reach down to the floor and snatch my towel up, running from the room before either of us can say another word. I almost run into Dante as I peel out of Luca’s room. Dante catches me before I trip over him and the look of concern on his face is touching. “Emily, are you okay? Did my brother do anything to hurt you?”

  I blink furiously and stare up at him, shaking my head quickly. I peek back at the doorway where Luca now stands. He’s leaning against the door frame in just his suit trousers, his hair tousled in a just-fucked way. He smirks at me before turning to Dante and announcing, “I assure you, Dante… I didn’t hurt her at all…”

  I slip into my room and shut the door as their voices continue to volley back and forth, their tones and tempers rising. I don’t want to be in the middle of it, so I hide away in the relative quiet of my room. I quickly ditch the bathing suit and whimper as I remember the feeling of Luca’s hands all over my body just moments before. I had not intended for that to happen and my mind reels with what it means for us.

  Despite my complete abandon minutes ago, I still have to face Luca at some point and I still have to pretend to be his girlfriend in public for another month and a half. I don’t know how I’m even going to be in the same room as him without being flustered with embarrassment. How am I supposed to be able to go on fancy dates and not rip his clothes off at every turn? Then I realize that he has seen more of my body than I have of his. Hell, he’s tasted my body. I groan as a fresh flush tinges my skin. I think I’m going to stay in this room and waste away instead of facing him ever again.

  I quickly change and use the fluffy towel to wipe off any remaining semen that clings to my skin. My nipples are still swollen from Luca’s attention and if I slide my hand between my thighs, I’d bet I’m still slick with the evidence of what Luca just did to me. I check out of curiosity and confirm that yes, I’m still soaking wet with desire for the ornery man with the cold, grey eyes. I shiver as I remember the way he licked my juices off his fingers like it was a delicacy.

  Walking over to the dresser, I rifle through it and put on the most unsexy undergarments I can find, then tug on a pair of thin sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder. I let my sopping wet hair down and braid it into pigtails so that it won’t dry frizzy. Then I bound down the stairs. I’m hoping to sneak into the kitchen to make dinner before Luca decides to come back down.

  My plans are sabotaged as I round the corner and almost run into him. He raises one eyebrow and takes a long look at me, his eyes roving over the baggiest outfit I could have put on. He smirks at me and turns back to the stove. “I was just going to whip something up for dinner. I seem to be feeling much less… tense lately. Do you think you could help me out? It gets a bit complicated in some parts and I could use an extra sets of hands.”

  I’m sure I look like a fish out of water with my mouth opening and closing rapidly. I point at Dante and squeak softly, “Can’t he help?” Luca snorts and shakes his head quickly. “Not if we don’t want to involve the fire department. Come on, Emily… it’ll be fun. And I promise that I will be nothing but a perfect gentleman.”

  He grabs my hand and tugs me across the kitchen. I look at Dante helplessly, but he just shrugs. “What? I like my chicken parmigiana. Two people means four hands making my dinner instead of two, which means I get to eat sooner. You two can work out your awkwardness and I get to eat Nonna Lucia’s family recipe again.”

  He smirks, looking pleased with himself as he saunters out of the kitchen, leaving me standing there, looking at Luca awkwardly. “So, um...what happened upstairs…”

  He nods and closes the distance between us. “It was amazing. It was hot, and it was dirty and it was a great release of all the stress that’s been plaguing me lately. But if it makes you uncomfortable, it can also be a one-time thing. Despite neither of us having a choice on the matter of our arrangement in public, if you find the idea of being with me physically to be repulsive, I will respect that.”

  He smiles and grabs my hand, pulling me over to the counter where several ingredients are laying. He motions broadly to the counter, “My Nonna Lucia always said that if you have twenty minutes and an hour to spare, you can make real sauce. We were spoiled with the real stuff, so neither of us will eat anything from a can.”

  I walk over to the counter and pick up a large tomato that is round and firm. “Where did you find such beautiful tomatoes?” I shudder when I feel his warmth against my back. He arms slide around me and I’m trapped between them with the counter in front of me and Luca’s hard body behind me. He whispers in my ear softly, “I picked them from my garden.”

  Turning my head around to look up at him, I narrow my eyes. “You have a garden?” Luca nods as he leans against me, picking up a tomato in his hand. He grins and tosses it up in the air, then catches it. “Yeah… what kind of Italian would I be if I didn’t use Italian tomatoes?” I bite down on my bottom lip to stifle the moan that threatens to slip out of my mouth.

  He grabs one of my hands in his, then nudges me. “Pick up the knife. Let me show you how to get a good dice on these tomatoes so that the sauce will be bursting with flavor.” I close my eyes briefly before picking up the knife. He tightens his grip against my hand and moves my body through the motions. Before long, the dozen tomatoes before us are thoroughly diced into bite-sized pieces along with several onions, a handful of various herbs and spices, and a solitary red pepper.
<
br />   Luca walks me through a recipe that must be committed to memory. He never once consults a book or a printed recipe from what I can tell. He's gentle as he gives me directions, guiding my hands through the motions of the recipe. When everything is in the pot, he turns me in his arms with a smile. “Twenty minutes...and now we wait an hour… trust me, this sauce will be the most incredible thing you’ve ever tasted…” He smirks and leans down over me, his lips brushing the outer shell of my ear as his voice lowers, “...although I may have recently discovered something that tastes even better…”

  THIRTEEN

  The next several weeks pass in similar fashion. Luca works long hours by day and by night, he teaches me how to cook incredible dishes from recipes he’s stored deep inside his mind. He always uses fresh ingredients, he always guides me through the movements, and he always praises the finished products when we are finished. Our interactions have remained largely platonic. He more often than not ends up sporting an impressive boner that presses against my ass while we cook, but neither of us mentions it and neither of us acts upon our obvious physical attraction to one another.

  For the dates that Luca has required me to attend, Royce has always pulled through with some gorgeous attire that makes me feel like Hollywood royalty rather than a street rat playing dress up. Gowns of silk and taffeta fill my closet alongside demure pant suits and rompers that Luca has requested on our less formal affairs. He’s been quick to show me off whenever someone is looking, but his demeanor has been largely cold inside the four walls of the house.

  He avoids me like the plague and I often hear him moaning through the walls of our shared bedrooms. I know he hasn’t had anyone over, but I can’t help but be turned on and disappointed at the same time, imagining him pleasuring himself. I know what he looks like when he gets off, but I’ve yet to see him naked. And I probably never will. We’ve agreed to keep things professional.

  Instead, we pour all of our pent up frustrations into the publicity stunts we call dates. They’ve been a regular occurrence, with us painting the town several times a week under the guise of the ever-loving couple. In the public eye, we’re two lovebirds who can’t seem to keep their hands off one another. Behind closed doors, though, we both exhibit phenomenal self-control. Neither of us has blurred the lines between personal and professional and while we‘re making out in the back of Streetcar while the world watches, once we’re both home and safely out of the public eye, we often retreat to opposite ends of the house.

  A lot of times, I find myself downstairs in the game room with Dante, wasting away the hours on heated games of chess. Other times, I hide away up in my room, painting on the slew of canvasses that Royce sneaks me without Luca knowing. I keep my easel set up in the closet, hidden behind a curtain. Every time Royce visits with a new outfit, he brings me a new canvas and a hand full of paint colors. I don’t know how the man keeps up with it, but he’d brought me over fifty tubes of paint and has yet to repeat a single color. If he wasn’t flamboyantly batting for the other side, Royce would represent the kind of thoughtfulness that could convince me to settle down with a man.

  I’ll have my chance at happiness once I am out from under the thumb of Luca Barresi. Pretending to date him when I absolutely have wet dreams about jumping him is blurring so many lines of ethics that I’m not sure I’m even doing this for the right reasons anymore. Despite the multiple nights when he has trudged in under the cover of darkness with the sharp tang of blood on the air, I still feel an inexplicable pull to the man. Like he tied a rope around my insides and tugs on it occasionally just for kicks.

  The sooner I fulfill my contract, the sooner I can get a handle on my emotions and hormones and really start my life over. Sure, Piacere was a hard life, but it was the same day in and day out. When Andre grew bored of me, it was lie, cheat, and steal my way to safety. Now, my life is in limbo while I wait to see if I perform well enough to be granted a second chance at life. Ten thousand dollars can support the kind of meager lifestyle I’m used to for over a year. That should give me plenty of time to get settled somewhere new, to reinvent myself and maybe, just maybe, finally find happiness.

  I’m chilling in the game room when I hear the front door swing open and slam closed again. I pull myself out of the chair and pad out of the room, screeching with surprise as I almost collide into Dante. “Jesus, Dante! I thought you were at work?!? Why are you home so early?”

  Dante shrugs as he rifles through the mail. His face lights up as his hand lands on an ornately decorated envelope that stands out from the rest of the mail. “Aha!” He snatches it out of the pile and tosses the rest of the mail onto the credenza in the entryway. As he walks past me, I peek over his shoulder and realize with a gasp that it’s addressed to me.

  “Dante, stop!”

  To my surprise, Dante actually pauses at the bottom of the staircase and turns back to me, “What is it, principessa?”

  I take three big steps to follow him, but stop at his choice of word. “What did you call me?”

  Dante chuckles, “It means princess in Italian. You’re our little princess and we are your knights in blood-stained armor, protecting you from the big bad voodoo dragon of New Orleans.”

  I narrow my eyes at him and point at the envelope. “You know, you can add the felonious theft of mail to your rap sheet now…”

  He glances down at the envelope, then back at me quickly, “First of all, what do you know about my rap sheet?” My eyes widen at his question. “Uh, I was guessing really… but you’re twenty-five and the son of a crime lord. Your older brother will be the next crime lord of the city. I figured the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  He crosses his arms over his chest, the envelope dangling precariously from his hand. I lunge forward and duck underneath his arm. I snatch it out of his hands, then take off upstairs, ripping into it as I run down the hallway to my room. Tossing the envelope behind, I skid to a stop right in front of my room as I read the loopy handwriting that covers the outside and inside of the card. With a gasp, I turn around and point at him. “Luca might seriously hurt you for trying to hide this from me. Why would you hide this from me?”

  Dante sighs as he comes to a stop in front of me. He snatches the invitation out of my hands and shakes his head. “Luca tasked me with intercepting it. He doesn’t want to go.”

  I cross my arms. “Who doesn’t want to go to a Halloween party? That’s like the one time you get to let loose and relax a bit.”

  Dante shrugs. “I’m not a mind reader. He told me to do it, so I did. He’s never enjoyed going and he’s successfully gotten out of it for the last three years. I have a pretty good suspicion why he doesn’t want to go and moreover, why he doesn’t want you there.”

  I can’t help but pout as his words offend me. “After all the hurdles we’ve gotten over, he doesn’t want me to go to a party with him? ”

  Dante skates a hand through his hair and levels his gaze at me as he rubs the back of his neck. “Look, I don’t think Luca would mind one bit going to this party with you, but the reason he doesn’t want to go has nothing to do with you and everything to do with who is hosting the party.”

  I flip the invitation over and reread the words scrawled across the page. I gasp as my eyes skirt over the one name that strikes fear into me more than Luca’s once did - Matteo Barresi. If this party is being hosted by him, it’s an almost-guarantee that he’ll be there. Along with dozens of his closest “friends.” Mean, cruel men who live fast and view the rules as guidelines. I nod at Dante. “So it’s a mob party. How bad could it be?”

  A trilling voice interrupts us, “Oh, girl. The men at this party will make gutter rats look like unicorns. But they are of no consequence. Not one will dare touch you while you are in the company of Luca. Not if they want to keep their fingers. We need to dress you up fierce so he won’t be able to take his eyes off you. I have just the thing, but I’m gonna need you…”

  Royce points at Dante and waves him out of
the room, “...to vamoose. All of this prettiness is for Luca’s eyes only. You make sure that every man there knows that anyone who dares so much as look at my beautiful little princess will lose those traitorous eyeballs.”

  I blush as Dante makes a grand motion of a bow and disappears from the room. I turn to Royce and shake my head, laughing. “Luca doesn’t want this.” I motion to myself up and down. “I’m suitable for him to pretend with in public, but aside from the one time we slipped and fooled around, he’s not interested.”

  Royce rolls his eyes at me as he pops one hip out and places a hand on it. “Girl, are you blind? That man’s itching to get a taste of the honey in the honey pot…”

  I cough and choke on the spit in my mouth. “Royce! He told me he doesn’t want to pursue anything with me… that it would complicate matters…”

  Royce clucks his tongue at me, waving his hands around in the air. “Girl, he doesn’t want to complicate your working relationship. He didn’t say nothing about not wanting you. Just because he’s too damn stubborn to open his eyeballs and see what the rest of us see doesn’t mean he ain’t picturing himself between those sweet little thighs. Do you trust me?”