11.
I woke up before Lucian did.
Last night, I had fallen asleep partially on his chest but our positions were reversed this morning. He covered me and exposed his back to the door. With the way his body was positioned, it almost looked like a conscious, protective gesture. His arms wrapped around me and his face buried deeply into the crook of my neck.
But by far, the most noticeable position was his legs.
They entwined through mine, tangling us up in a heap.
His larger weight pushed me into the mattress, and while it wasn't exactly comfortable, it possessed a sort of secureness and reassurance. Taking advantage of his slumber, I observed him unabashedly, hesitantly touching his hair and the tops of the small ears.
He had cute little ears.
He moaned in his sleep, subconsciously tightening his arms around me.
I hitched a breath, grinning madly as his lips and stubble tickled my neck. My mouth pressed together as I tried to keep from laughing.
I failed, obviously.
"Afton," Lucian mumbled tiredly, "why did you have to turn out to be a morning person?" His tone was clearly disapproving. "Why?" he actually whined, his voice hoarse and drowsy with heavy sleep.
"No one said you had to get up," I remarked lightly, amused at how unguarded he was in the morning. His breath was hot against my neck, and before I knew it, his lips were sucking on the thin and sensitive skin beneath my ear. "Fuck!"
I arched into him out of shock and surprising pleasure.
He stopped abruptly.
I thought he got the hint that I wasn't used to this sort of thing, but then he...
He moaned and I felt it.
His arousal pressed against my upper thigh. It wasn't an obscured arousal, either, it was painstakingly noticeable and heavy and big. Lucian rolled his hips a bit, pressing further into me. My breathing hitched.
"I'm sorry." Lucian laughed lightly, not sounding apologetic in the least. "It's morning and it'll take a few cups of coffee to tame him. Or a cold shower. Probably both."
"Him?" I exclaimed with humor despite my rising anxiety. "You actually call your... a him?"
"A thing? You mean my cock." Lucian lifted his head from my neck, flashing a smug grin. His eyes were half-lidded and drowsy. "Say it. Cock."
He looked far too excited as his gaze dropped to my lips, waiting like an eager puppy.
I felt the proof of his excitement stiffen further against my leg. Despite the curl of desire in my stomach, I couldn't handle this. Not yet. "Get off me, Lucian." I nudged at his chest. He laughed as he refused to let me up His fingers wrapped around my wrists before pinning them above my head.
At the unexpected turnout, I found myself momentarily stunned.
My stomach clenched again.
I wasn't going to get aroused. I wasn't going to get aroused...
I was getting aroused.
He loomed above me, his hazy eyes all the evidence I needed to know he wasn't a morning person. Getting up early was second nature to me, much to the envy of Tony whenever we had early track practice.
"You look delightful," Lucian slurred, his tongue heavy.
"I'm going to meet your family today, right?" I tried to get him distracted, but he wasn't falling for my tactic. Instead, he bent down and kissed my neck. "Lucian..."
It was going too fast, especially when I didn't know Lucian's intentions. I understood that some people were lethargic during the morning and most men, including me, woke up with erections, but he was pressing his damn luck. His teeth then scraped against an incredibly sensitive spot on my neck and my leg jerked, involuntarily kneeing him in his crotch.
He opened his mouth in a silent scream and his black eyes grew wide.
"Afton," he whimpered, "that was...uncalled for."
"Look at the bright side," I began in earnest, escaping the cage of his arms, "it woke you up, didn't it?" My feet curled against the carpet as I eyed the mural. I sighed before turning to Lucian with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry."
The underboss had his eyes closed as he held his groin.
"I'm sure you are."
Lucian opened one eye to watch me as I crossed the room. I could feel his eyes on my back as I dug through my dresser for a change of clothes.
"I'm going to take a quick shower. I'll make breakfast after I'm finished. Hopefully you can manage making coffee?"
I flashed him another look over my shoulder, only to catch him looking at my ass. Onyx eyes then looked up at my face, an innocent smile crossing his lips.
"Did you hear anything I said?" I exclaimed, finding my own lips twisting with humor.
"Yeah," Lucian nodded, falling back onto the pillow. "You said I could join you in the shower."
"You're such a horndog in the morning," I pointed out with amusement. Lucian's lidded eyes taunted me from the bed. The underboss was a lot less suave in the morning and a lot more explicit. His usual charisma was buried beneath mind-numbing arousal.
"Make some damn coffee."
I took the towel from the hook and entered the bathroom.
Lucian's laugh sounded through the closed door.
M.R.
Lucian's demeanor had tamed considerably by his third cup of coffee and a cold shower. His usually parted hair was slicked back today and he was dressed in his usual smart suit with a crimson collared-shirt underneath his dark coat.
We were currently sitting in the back of his Bentley. One of his hands curled around a travel mug, full of black coffee, the other occupied with drawing mindless circles on the back of my hand. Any other time, I would have denied the fact that I needed placating, but his touch helped calm my anxiety.
"We have to go in sometime, Afton," Lucian tried to soothe, though his voice was tight with laughter.
I ignored him, just as I had ignored him for the past five minutes as we sat, parked in his lot.
As another minute went by, I finally broke. "Why? I think I can see the house perfectly fine from here." I nodded sharply, motioning toward the large mansion-like house beyond Lucian's head. The house was huge and I felt belittled just looking at it.
"You can see the house, yes, but you can't see my parents, can you?"
"Now that you mention it, I'm pretty sure I can see someone moving around in the window..."
Lucian sighed but his mood was pleased.
Letting go of my hand, he opened his door and stepped out. His hand ventured inside the car, urging me to take his offered help. A sense of sinking misery accompanied my reluctant submission.
"Good boy," Lucian praised.
His fingers closed around wrist and pulled me bodily from the car. Gravel crunched underneath my leather shoes as soon as I stood from the car. I had decided to put a little bit of effort into my outfit this morning. The jeans and shirt had to go, and in its place was a dark suit, similar to the one Lucian wore.
Lucian took my elbow and led me over to the entrance of a wrought iron gate that encircled the perimeter of the entire house. There weren't many trees on the property, but I supposed that was done intentionally.
After all, it would be easier for enemies to hide in the shadows of trees rather than acres of flat grass.
Upon seeing Lucian, two men scrambled to open the gates. They stared at the underboss in reverence, paying no heed to me until I tried to pass. One of them stuck out a beefy hand, holding me back.
"Boss, he's not part of the Family, we'll need to check for weapons—"
"You will do no such thing," Lucian said darkly with a possessive hand on my elbow. "He's with me. He's clean."
One of the men patted me on the side. Before he could continue, Lucian pulled me away from the taller man. "Did you not hear me?" he demanded coldly. It was always remarkable how easily he could turn from cold to hot. "He will not be searched like a common criminal when he is my guest. There is no gun on him."
"But the Boss—"
Lucian's arm moved quickly, and before I knew it, he had his gun out, cocking it confidently at the man who had tried to search me.
"If you touch him again, I'll stick a bullet between your eyes. Understood?"
More gun waving.
He was overreacting. I didn't mind if they searched me, but I knew Lucian considered their insistence an act of disobedience. I knew now wasn't the time to tell him he was dramatizing, especially in front of his men.
It was a mafia-styled pissing match.
The two enforcers bowed their necks and remained compliant when Lucian took my elbow and led me down the brick path. With his opposite hand, he continued to hold the handgun, his finger on the trigger. I had never seen him this uptight before.
"It wasn't a big deal," I murmured quietly. "I wouldn't have minded—"
"I care, I mind," Lucian responded icily. "You are my lover."
So, he decided on the term 'lover'.
It sounded better than 'boyfriend', I suppose, yet it also sounded so official.
"I will not have them invade your privacy like that." He noticed my uncertain expression before a light smile eased the hard line of his mouth. "I don't think you could ever shoot a gun even if your life depended on it."
"You underestimate me," I replied boldly.
He was right, of course.
The first time I had even held a gun was when Lucian had given me one. Nick still had the gun and I wondered if Lucian knew that or not. I imagine he didn't know, or else I would have another handgun in my possession.
"I should hope that is the case," Lucian admitted as we approached the deep, wine-colored front door. "It would be beneficial if I give you firing lessons."
He opened the door, allowing me entrance before him.
The cold tiles were a stormy grey and the décor of the manor was open and airy. The windows were tall and wide, looking as if there were more windows in the house than actual walls. The décor was modern, modern and masculine. There were small traces of femininity and softness around the home, but it looked almost all contemporary.
I liked it.
"Come." Lucian took my elbow again, his handgun finally tucked away in whatever hidden pocket he kept it inside. "Madre is most likely in the dining room."
He led me through the labyrinth of halls.
Unlike the large entrance way, the halls were darker and didn't have any windows. They were long, almost dungeon-like. I found myself lost by the third turn. We passed many rooms that had the doors firmly shut.
We even passed some men in the halls and Lucian didn't even bat an eye in greeting. Most the men looked down their nose at me in either disinterest or amusement. I wondered how they could pass judgement so quickly when they didn't even know me.
Lucian finally led me into a room after opening a set of French doors.
The room was brighter than the rest of the house and it had a homier feel. A dark mahogany alcoholic cart stood in the corner, and a large, beautiful china cabinet stood tall next to the equally impressive dinner table.
"Madre," Lucian announced our presence.
My mouth grew dry when I caught sight of Lucian's mother.
She was gorgeous.
The woman sitting at the head of the table looked up from her breakfast.
As she stood, she brought attention to her tall and flattering stature. Her chocolate brown hair fell down her back in loose waves and her eyes were a spell-binding dark brown—almost onyx—, the same shade as Lucian's. She didn't look a day over thirty years, but I knew she must have been at least in her early forties.
"Luciano," she greeted warmly.
Her accent was extremely thick. It sounded as she had just moved from Italy and had been practicing her English only for the past few months.
"I have someone here for you to meet, Madre." He placed a hand on the small of my back, encouraging me out from his shadow and into the open.
Her eyes instantly fell on me. Her face lit up and she advanced closer. As her proximity grew closer, I realized her belly was round. Assuming she wasn't heavy around the middle, I gathered she was pregnant.
"You must be Afton, no?" Her dark eyes absorbed every inch of my face before she stuck out her hand. "I am Contessa Romano. It is a pleasure to meet you."
I stumbled to get myself under control.
My tongue was heavy and I struggled to find the words to impress her. Deciding to take the safe route, I grasped her hand and shook it firmly. "It's nice to meet you."
So impressive, Afton.
She beamed.
"Lucian's told me much about you." We dropped hands. "I find it easier to understand his explanations of you now that I have seen a face. You are different from what I imagined."
Something about her comment did not sit well with me. I didn't sense any cruel intent, but I did notice her quick, flustered look to Lucian, as if realizing what she said, before she turned back to me with a smile.
Before I could make an assumption, she continued.
"You must come eat some breakfast with Aria and me." She held her belly protectively.
For a moment, I thought she had named her unborn child 'Aria', but then I caught sight of a dark-haired girl sitting at the table. Her large blue eyes looked at me from beneath her bangs before quickly turning away when she realized she had been caught looking.
I looked up at Lucian, silently asking what he wanted to do. We had just eaten breakfast at my home, but I didn't know if we should linger out of politeness.
"Afton just made breakfast for us, Madre."
Lucian's hand, which had remained at the small of my back, slowly slid up and ran across my shoulders. Surprisingly, I was okay with the contact. I did not hunch away, rather, I found myself leaning into him.
She deflated. "I made raspberry white chocolate tiramisu, Luciano."
I had no idea what that was, but judging from her wicked expression, I assumed she was trying to bribe us to stay. Next to me, Lucian scoffed.
"You know I can't pass up your tiramisu." Lucian looked down, catching my bemused expression. "Have you ever had white chocolate tiramisu?"
"I can't say that I have," I confessed, feeling a bit out of place.
Contessa looked aghast. "No? You are Italian, yes?"
"His family doesn't celebrate their true cuisine," Lucian answered for me. "His parents are too busy to teach him of his heritage. He eats... American food."
"My mother makes pasta..." I started lamely.
Lucian offered me a placating and amused look, while Contessa appeared crestfallen. The woman reached out and took my hand. Her opposite hand ran up the length of my arm soothingly, as if trying to rub away the leftover imprints of 'American' food.
"Don't worry," she smiled, pulling me away from Lucian and toward the dining room table. "I'll give you a taste of your heritage cuisine. We'll fatten you right up."
I pictured arriving at California for my first track practice. After a few weeks with Lucian's mother, I would be popping out of my uniform's seams. The thought didn't settle me down any, and I could only imagine the horror on my coach's face.
Sitting down next to Lucian's little sister, I eyed the little girl. Her cheeks were a rosy hue as she glanced at me shyly before looking away. "And who are you?" I was immensely awkward around any child that was bold for their age, but Aria seemed quiet and adorably shy.
"Aria," she whispered.
Her eyes were a dark blue. I wondered who she got them from.
I offered her a bright smile. "It's very nice to meet you, Aria. How old are you?"
She giggled, ducking her head down toward her plate. "Eight."
"It looks as if Aria has a crush on you, Afton," Lucian drawled from across the table. I threw him an exasperated look and he only shrugged indifferently.
"I do not," Aria denied heatedly, her cheeks blazing. Her furious eyes glared at her older brother and I caught sight of the missing front tooth in her mouth. She glanced at me desperately, hoping I wasn't influenced by Lucian's statement.
Instead, I winked at the eight-year-old, watching as she bowed her head once again.
"Here is the raspberry white chocolate tiramisu, Afton."
Contessa slid over a small white plate with the dessert on top. It was moist, looking as if it had a lot of whipped cream and coco spices entwined together. Honestly, it appeared picture-perfect, like those photographs of desserts in my mother's magazines she never read.
I picked up the fork and took a bite.
Instantly, my eyes widened, and like any other typical boy, I dived in for more. The raspberry and white chocolate were incredible. "This is great!"
Judging from the pleased laugh coming from Contessa, and the giggles from Aria, I assumed I made a decent impression with them at least.
M.R.
We left Contessa and Aria all too soon.
I had enjoyed talking with the both of them and found them easy to be around. Aria, especially, was an adorable little kid. Although she hadn't talked much, I had a hunch she and Emily, Tony's sister, would get along well.
Emily didn't get out much with other children, and from what Contessa explained to me today, Aria was homeschooled and didn't see many kids either.
"You know, if your father is busy, we can always come back later."
Hopefully my voice didn't sound as fearful as I felt.
"He's not going to hurt you, Afton," Lucian reassured gently. "It will only take a few seconds to introduce you and we'll be on our way. Greet him, introduce you, wish him a good day, and leave. I just want him to be aware of you, to see you and take notice of you."
There was something Lucian was hiding.
His expression was closed and his hands remained firmly by his side.
When he was in the proximity of his mother, he revealed more emotions than I had ever seen from him before. He also didn't mind touching me in front of his mother. But as we walked down the many hallways to his father's office, I noticed he kept a cold distance.
He wanted to impress his father, I'm sure. Either that, or he didn't want to show weakness in front of the mafia men, his father included. I knew well enough to keep my own expressions masked, especially in my fear.
If I came across as frightened, they would eagerly play on that.
We came to a stop in front of a dark, forbidding door. A man in a dark suit stood guard. He grunted at Lucian, taking a long look at me before knocking on the door. Inside, I heard a cool voice allow entrance.
Lucian stepped in first, and with a sharp gesture with his chin, I gathered he wanted me to follow. My legs were jelly as I followed close behind him, easily picking up on his unease and tenseness.
It amplified my own anxiety.
The office was dark with heavy drapes covering the bay windows. A few lamps were lit across the room in order to offset the complete darkness. In the middle of the room, a large and impressive desk sat. Behind the desk, a man sat, speaking quietly with another man who stood next to his chair.
The pair immediately stopped talking when Lucian came to a full stop in front of the desk. Lucian's father had thick black hair that grayed at the temples. He looked only slightly like Lucian, their noses and jaws a complete opposite. One possessed rounder features, the other more sculptured.
Evidently, Lucian took after his mother.
Gabriele Romano looked expectantly at his son. However, as soon as those cold eyes noticed me, the man scoffed and leaned back in his chair as if he thought this was a joke. I tensed further, knowing this would not turn out well.
Not at all.
"Luciano," Gabriele greeted coolly while completely ignoring me.
"Padre," Lucian replied just as coldly. There were two things Lucian did inherit from his father. Intimidation and frosty exteriors. "I wanted to introduce you to my—"
"New lover?" Gabriele interrupted before Lucian could finish. The bald man standing next to Gabriele hid his smile behind his hand. "What number are we on now, Luciano?"
Horrible shock turned me cold.
I really felt sick.
I remembered the men in the hallways. How they'd looked at me with amusement. Even they considered me a joke.
"You must be Dominic," Gabriele addressed me, but kept his gaze on his son. I wasn't even important enough to warrant his attention.
"No," Lucian replied sharply. His voice rivaled the bitter winter frost. "This is Afton Conti."
I stayed rooted in my position.
"Whatever happened to Dominic? Weren't you just with him a few days ago?"
The conversation succeeded in erecting every single wall of defense Lucian had diligently knocked down. My leap of faith in Lucian, my leap of faith in this relationship, slowly crumbled and buckled underneath the words.
I knew Lucian had past lovers, but judging from Gabriele's attitude, I realized that Lucian had more than just a few lovers.
I—I was just a number among many.
And I hated myself that I fell for Lucian's seduction and his smooth words and his gifts. Nick had warned me. He told me Lucian was pursuing me just to fuck me.
Lucian had been beyond angry when I accused him of "fucking and dropping." The man might not drop his lovers, but he certainly discarded them well enough. For Lucian, it was all about the chase, the hunt. After claiming his prey, he most likely grew bored and found an interest somewhere else.
The more challenging the pursuit, the more fun it would be.
"No, I wasn't." Lucian's eyes were bright with lethality. I couldn't care a less, not anymore. I was entirely checked out and just wanted to be away from here. "We parted ways more than three months ago."
Gabriele shrugged indifferently.
"I can't keep them all straight, Luciano. You must not be angry with me." Dark eyes then looked me over. Finally. "You look nothing like Old Benny," the man observed darkly. "Benny Conti, my good deceased friend. Is he your relation?"
"He was my grandfather," I said dryly, a bit disrespectfully. Lucian told me Gabriele helped my grandfather, Benny, gain citizenship in the United States. I didn't know the two knew each other well enough to be on first-name basis.
Gabriele narrowed his eyes, a slight curl to his lips as he leaned across his desk to get a better look at me. "Did they adopt you?" He asked bluntly, ruthlessly.
Lucian shifted next to me, but I answered before he could interrupt.
A cold flame of fury settled at the man's words. "I only wish that were fucking true," I replied spitefully. Maybe if that were true, I wouldn't be in this damned situation. I wouldn't have my honor being torn from me so brutally, leaving me vulnerable in front of strangers.
"That's enough," Lucian growled out. "You have no respect."
At first, I thought he was talking to me, but he jabbed a finger in his father's direction.
"Watch your tongue," Gabriele whispered threateningly.
Lucian ignored his father and took me by the shoulder, steering me out of the room. I was half-tempted to call over my shoulder, "it was such a pleasure to meet you, good sir", but I just wanted to get out of there. So bad.
Moreover, I had no idea how to get out of this damned manor. And I didn't have my car or any means to get home besides Lucian.
The hand on my shoulder guided me through countless of hallways before we reached a door. Lucian threw open the door, pulling me inside before slamming the door shut behind us. The man was red in the face, breathing deeply to calm himself.
I stared. I had never seen this side of Lucian before, an almost desperate, senseless side.
I knew then, that I didn't know as much about Lucian as I thought I did.
"Please," Lucian began hoarsely, "don't take his words seriously."
Lucian reached for my face, intent to run his fingernail down my jaw, but I turned away coldly. "I'd like to go home, Lucian," I requested as casually and as neutrally as I could have managed given the situation.
I noticed we had walked into a bedroom.
It was the very last place I wanted to be right now. I felt... vulnerable and uncomfortable.
"Fuck you. You can't be serious," Lucian exclaimed and his face contorted with fury. "You took him seriously," he accused sharply.
I turned my face around, staring at him. I wasn't afraid of him, not now.
"I said I want to go home. Now."
And then I witnessed, first-hand, a true Italian's temper.
My father grew angry at times, going so far as to hit me in my face. He also yelled often, but it was nothing compared to Lucian's temper. The man snarled as he threw back his arm and knocked everything off his bookcase. The glass objects shattered, raining all over the floor. I stared at a few shards of glass near my shoes, my anxiety ramping up further.
Before I could slow my racing pulse at the abrupt tantrum, the underboss then knocked over the dresser itself with as much strength as he could muster.
The large piece of furniture went down awkwardly to the ground. The wood splintered, veining across the face of the dresser.
Suddenly, Lucian advanced closer to me.
I took a step back, a stubborn lift to my chin in order to hide my fear.
Abruptly, he took me around the shoulders, pushing me into the wall before clashing his lips onto mine. The force of the kiss was enough to cause hot tears to swell behind my closed eyelids. How many other men had he taken here, in this room? How many had he pushed against the wall and fucked moments later?
Every time he succeeded in bedding them, he would be eyeing his next challenge.
My own Italian temper flared.
I tore my lips away from him before throwing by fist into Lucian's face.
"Don't fucking force yourself on me," I hissed.
Lucian cupped a hand to his eye while his opposite eye stared at me with surprise. "Afton," he whispered desperately.
I didn't give him the satisfaction of staying around to listen. Turning my heel, I left his room, slamming the door shut behind me.
Why did my chest feel too tight to breathe?