by SL Perrine
“None that I can think of will be as good.”
“Hold on.” She moved to the nightstand. Knowing the promiscuous nature of the last nanny, she hoped there would still be some in her drawers. Luckily for them, there was one. She turned around; Anthony still lay in the same position as if he were unwilling to move. When she produced the small foil package, he let his head fall back again.
Gianna ripped open the condom, pinched the tip and placed it over his cock. It had softened slightly, but with the presence of her hand, it began to stiffen once more. Rolling down the shaft with the rubber, she massaged, moving her finger and thumb around it as she dressed him.
“Come here.”
He sat up, grabbed her by the waist, and hoisted her up on his lap, so she was straddling him. His sheathed cock in between them pressing against her core. His mouth found hers again, and his finger delved into her wet pussy. He must have been satisfied because he grabbed her waist again and positioned her over him, looking into her eyes more than likely looking for restraint. She gave none and lowered herself. He filled her, small thrusts at a time until he had the entire length of him inside her.
Gianna pushed Anthony back to lay on the bed and grabbed his hands. She meant to keep them pinned over his head, and she drove her hips into him with such ferocity she felt it could not have been her at all. He lifted his arms, keeping his elbows resting on the bed to hold her weight. She used the anchor of their clasped hands to drive herself into him with every thrust.
“Fuck. Me!” Gianna sang out and instantly wanted to take it back realizing he would take control from her.
Anthony sat up and wrapped an arm around her waist and laid her down. He stood next to the bed, her legs wrapped around his middle and she drove him into herself, harder and with more force. She screamed his name, “Jax!”
“No. Not now, I’m not.”
“Anthony. Don’t... stop…” She dug her nails into his forearms. “Damn it.”
Sweat bead on their bodies before Anthony dug into her hip with his fingers and exclaimed, “I’m gonna cum.”
“Bring it, meat stick.”
“Shut it, frost queen.”
His knees buckled and hit the bed. Gianna’s breasts, never released from the laced fabric, bounced as he drove into her. With one last thrust and something akin to a growl, Anthony reached his climax. His hands moved up her sides, nails raking her skin. Gianna’s toes curled, her legs tightened around his waist, and after a few small thrusts Anthony laid down on top of her body.
“You try to claim sexual harassment, and I’ll eat you alive.” He said.
“You can eat me anytime you’d like.”
Chapter 11
The sounds of heavy breathing were the only noise in the room as they lay together trying to catch their breath. A soft beam of moonlight shone through the arch window, bathing them in its glow. The sheen of sweat covering their bodies glistening in the subdued light. When the rise and fall of their chests had dropped to normal levels, Gianna attempted to roll out of bed. Anthony twisted, caught her arm and pulled her back down.
“Where are you going?”
“Jax, this was a mistake. A wonderful mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.”
“Gia, as much as it confuses me too, you can’t deny what’s happening between us.”
“Jax,” Gianna starts with a shake of her head. “We had a nice evening brought about by too much alcohol. Couple that with the fact my inhibitions were down, and I haven’t been laid in, well, forever, and this is the result.”
“The result?”
“Yes. Jumping into bed with the first available man that shows a fleeting interest in me. My daughter’s Manny, no less.”
“No less… I see.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Anthony shrugs and releases her arm as he lies back and folds his hands behind his head. “Gianna’s back, mask firmly in place to hide the fact that she’s a coward.”
“How dare you!” she spits. “You should be honored to have your bed graced with my presence.”
“Is it cold in here? The temperature seems to have suddenly dropped a few degrees.”
“It can get colder,” she replies as she climbs out of bed and slips into her jeans.
“I’m sure it can. You should escape now before the floor freezes and gets too slippery to run away on.”
“Fuck you, Jax.”
“You just did.”
“And you didn’t fuck me?”
“No, I made…” Anthony trails off.
“Made what?” Gianna’s face softens a bit.
“Nothing.”
“No, say it.”
“Forget it, Gianna. Don’t you have a walk-in cooler to get back to before you melt?”
Gianna snatches her blouse off the bed and shrugs into it. “And you call me a coward, Anthony Jackson,” she states before storming out of the room.
The door of his apartment slams a moment later, and Anthony winces at the sound.
“Fuck!” he screams at the ceiling.
“Fuck!” Giovanni screams at the walls of his study, the curse punctuated by the breaking mirror swept from his desk.
Matteo cowers into the settee he is lounging on, momentarily afraid that Giovanni’s wrath would descend upon him. When his lover drops into the high-backed chair at his desk and sighs, Matteo ventures to speak.
“What angers you, Gio?” he asks as he unfolds from the couch to stand.
“The fucking Manny. She’s fucking, the fucking Manny.”
Matteo pads across the room, careful of the shattered glass on the floor as he rounds the desk to face Giovanni. “And this angers you?” Matteo asks as he rotates Giovanni in his chair and kneels before him.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she is becoming increasingly difficult to control. There was a time she would never have entertained such an audacious act,” he thumps a fist on the arm of his chair. “To bed that sorry, flabby excuse for a man under my roof.”
Matteo lays his hands upon Giovanni’s knees and slowly slides them up to the bulge resting on his inner thigh beneath his pants. He begins gently massaging, feeling it twitch as blood starts to fill its length. “It’s a minor thing, lover. Did you think she would stay celibate forever?”
“I didn’t expect her to start screwing the help.”
Matteo smiles as he undoes the button and zipper before releasing Giovanni’s manhood. “You’ve been screwing the help for years.”
“It’s not the same,” Giovanni grumbles as Matteo’s mouth wraps around the end of his member. His head lolls back as he tangles his hands in Matteo’s hair. “Her usefulness to me isn’t complete. I have anguished emotions yet to wring from her.”
Matteo’s head ceases bobbing on Giovanni’s dick to peer into his eyes. “She’s necessary for ascension?”
Giovanni shakes his head and pushes Matteo back onto his length. “Just suck my dick, Matteo. Thinking isn’t your strong suit. And put some throat on it, it’s not a lollipop.”
He couldn’t possibly mean to say he was making love to her, could he? No, that was absurd. They were just two drunk adults who needed to be close to another body. Though that body sure felt good. He did not feel like the overweight man she’d hired. Or had he? She couldn’t remember. Chances were by morning she’d forget the entire thing. She was not fooling herself. She’d remember every bit of movement between them. Anthony’s hands had imprinted themselves onto her skin, a dull burning left in their wake.
She made her way back to her room without running into anyone. She stripped her clothes to the floor and got in her shower. A refreshing spray gushed from the overhead faucet, her head fell backward, and she let the spray of water beat against her naked form. Her hands following the same path Anthony had with his hands, then his mouth. Her fingers slipped down to her core, feeling the pleasant numbness from their lovemaking.
Her head snapped up. That was it. It was no
t merely fucking. She just thought the same thing that had almost come out of his mouth. Could she be falling for this man? He was rude, obnoxious, and had horrid manners. On the other hand, he was fierce and gentle but knew when to be rough. He loved Mila, there was no doubt. If not for her, he would have left five minutes after stepping into the Manor.
So, she had her answer. The harder question was… could he ever love her? Like most men, she did not doubt he found her attractive but was it just the look of her he craved, or her? Did he even truly know her? She did not think she’d given him enough of a glimpse of the real Gianna since he arrived. To be fair, she did not really know who the real Gianna was anymore either.
Of course, there was the other part of who she was that nobody except the coven knew of, and that man she married. The magical part of her. If only she could see future visions as she once had. She would have her answer already.
Still, as she dried herself and slipped under the covers of her bed, wearing nothing more than a curious grin, she could not help thinking of the way he felt against her. Not in his bed, but at the bar while they danced. She would remember that moment. The moment she was Gia, and he was Anthony.
How on earth could they go back to their comfortable routine? After one kiss he would barely look at her. Maybe if she made him believe she was indifferent to it, they could continue this type of newfound arrangement. They were adults after all. She could risk her heart if she could be near him.
The sheet and blanket lay bunched at his feet, one pillow had fallen on the floor, and a corner of the fitted sheet had popped loose at the head of the bed. Still, sleep hadn’t come for Anthony, no matter how many positions he attempted to lie in to encourage its embrace. Memories of Gianna’s lips on his, the semi-hurt expression she had on her face, and the tone of her voice when she called him a coward before she left, kept replaying in his mind.
The knock that came from the front door of his apartment was almost a welcome relief from his self-loathing. Anthony rolled out of bed and plucked his robe from the hook on the back of his bedroom door. He absently noted that his suit from the other day was gone as he donned the robe and tied it close on his way to the door. The knock came again, a little more insistent.
“Keep your pants on, I’m coming,” Anthony called.
Half expecting Gianna to be outside his door, he was surprised to find Sarah, the housekeeper instead.
“Sarah? It’s a little early, isn’t it?”
“Mr. Moretti requests your presence in the study off the main hall.”
“When?”
She makes a show of looking at her watch. “Five minutes ago.”
“Tell him I’ll be along momentarily.”
Sarah inclines her head, turns, and ascends the stairs as Anthony closes the door. Tearing out of the robe, he races to the bathroom as a sense of dread washes over him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck!” Anthony hisses under his breath as he dives into the shower. “This can’t be good.”
After a brief shower, Anthony dresses and races out of the apartment. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reaches the landing and crosses through the foyer of Gianna’s wing. He casts a quick glance up the staircase leading to her room as he enters the main library. Closing the double doors behind him, Anthony quick-steps across the wooden floors. A few twists and turns bring him to Giovanni’s study. He pauses a moment outside the large, oak door to compose himself before rapping on its exterior.
“Enter,” a commanding voice calls from the inside.
Anthony enters the study and closes the door behind him as Giovanni rises to his feet behind his desk. “You wished to see me, Mr. Moretti?”
“Please, Mr. Jackson, take a seat.” He gestures at a plush, high-backed chair.
Anthony moves to the chair and seats himself. “What can I do for you, sir?”
Giovanni clasps his hands behind his back and looks at the floor thoughtfully as he rounds the desk. “We haven’t really had a chance to speak and, with things about to change in your schedule, I thought now would be a good time.”
“What changes in my schedule?” Anthony questions.
“Well, as of this week, Mila will be spending Tuesdays and Thursdays with me at etiquette school.”
“I see. Is Mrs. Moretti aware of these changes to Mila’s schedule?”
Giovanni’s face clouds up momentarily, but he composes himself so quickly that Anthony is not sure he saw it. “I am the head of this household. Mila’s schedule is dictated to my wife as I decide,” he answers with barely concealed venom.
Something about Giovanni’s demeanor grates on Anthony’s nerves. “Mrs. Moretti has made it quite apparent that I report directly to her. I think I’ll wait for word from her about Mila’s schedule.”
“I’m sure she has,” Giovanni replies drily as he comes to lean against his desk in front of Anthony. “You’re free to take your orders from my wife, but you can just as easily get your walking papers from me.”
“That sounds an awful lot like a threat.”
Giovanni spreads his hands and smiles condescendingly. “Threat? Not at all, Mr. Jackson. That would be beneath my station. No. Rather, think of it as an incentive.”
“An incentive,” Anthony repeats.
“To play ball with me.”
“To keep my job?”
“Among other things,” Giovanni intones. He takes a breath and rises to his full six feet. “You’ve proven yourself an asset to the Moretti household. Your work with the man who accosted my daughter in that damnable restaurant led to the elimination of a threat to my daughter’s welfare.”
“Elimination?”
“Of the permanent manner,” Giovanni replies as he smiles through teeth that have suddenly become too wolfish in Anthony’s mind.
Anthony’s blood runs cold. “What exactly does that mean?”
“As it turns out, the man you confronted was part of a cult with intentions of kidnapping my daughter for unknown nefarious reasons.”
“And you eliminated this threat, how?”
“Through various means at my disposal, let your imagination run wild. In fact, I insist. You should understand your place in the Moretti world.”
“That sounds even more like a threat.”
“Did it?”
Anthony comes to his feet and goes nose to nose with Giovanni. His voice drops dangerously low, “I don’t take well to threats, Mr. Moretti, and I know I don’t like you or your demeanor. You may have money and power, but neither extends with a reach that would give me a reason to allow you to undermine Mrs. Moretti’s authority or have Mila misplace her trust in me.”
Anthony steps away from Giovanni and starts for the door.
“Mr. Jackson?” Giovanni calls after him. Anthony stops and faces him. “I don’t think you have a proper grasp of the power I wield,” Giovanni growls ferally as red and purple lightning crackles around the fingers of his left hand. He then fixes Anthony with a smug grin.
Anthony raises his right hand, blue and white lightning crackling along the entire length of his arm. “I didn’t before, but I think we have an understanding,” Anthony replies with satisfaction as Giovanni’s face goes blank. “Don’t threaten me again, and be very careful with your daughter, I’d hate to see anything happen to anyone that harms her or hurts her feelings.”
Anthony turns and exits the study, the doors closing behind him with a gesture he made sure Giovanni did not miss. Making his way back to his apartment, Anthony waits until he is inside before he allows himself a moment of panic. What the hell had he gotten himself into? Grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, he popped the top and walked into the living room. Dropping onto the couch, he drained the beer in one pull. The thought of Giovanni or his thugs bursting into the apartment causes Anthony the reach out with his power and secure the door.
“A locked door gives you a few seconds more,” he says softly to himself to calm his nerves further. “What in the twelve hells am I going to do now?”<
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Anthony internally ponders what he should do. Leaving now was not an option. Something about Moretti and the way he spoke about his daughter didn’t sit right with him. Mila needed him, for what, he was not sure yet, but she needed him there. Did Gianna know about her husband’s dark power? Was it dark power? It had to be. Earth magic does not look like anything Giovanni displayed.
Anthony briefly entertained going to Gianna about his confrontation with Giovanni, but the thought of her ridiculing him quickly shut that thought down. There was no way she would believe him. Unless he displayed his own power.
“Yeah, that would work, Anthony. She’d bounce your ass out of here before the thought even registered with her.” Anthony took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Fuck,” he said softly drawing the word out.
Chapter 12
Gianna emerged from her shower the next morning feeling less refreshed than she had the night before. She pondered the idea of a confrontation with Anthony. “Shit, now he’s Anthony again.” She could not get his words out of her head. He hadn’t wanted her calling him by the nickname her daughter gave him, while in his bed. He was perfectly clear. Anthony did not want her to think of him as the help, Mila’s Manny, or her employee. What the hell did he want?
Alcohol. That was it. It was alcohol induced, and that was all. Though, alcohol was not the only reason why she stopped him from walking away and disappearing into his apartment. She would have gone to her room alone as she had every night for the last eight years, but she was unable to.
Had she been thinking clearly, she would have noticed her husband sitting on the corner of her bed when she walked back into her room. Dressed to kill, Giovanni wore dark slacks, a light purple button-up dress shirt with his hair slicked back, and a hurt look on his face.
“Gio?”
“Gia, darling. You seem to be glowing this morning.”
“Am I?” she laughed her way over to her vanity and plucked a pair of diamond studs off the table and place them in her ears. “How would you know what I look like when I’m glowing? Matter of fact,” she looked around. “Are you lost? I can’t believe you remembered where this room was.”
