I blink, then nod, unsure of what to say. He’s more than observant and that makes me wonder exactly what he does for a living. So, I ask him, again.
He sighs and just when I think he’s going to switch the subject, his blue eyes find mine and he begins to speak.
“I work for my cousin, Gavino. He’s in sales. My office is here in Brooklyn, I don’t even travel to Manhattan often, just to take his wife shopping if she needs a companion,” he states.
“A companion?” I ask, my brows knitting together.
He nods, lifting one of his hands to run his fingers through my hair. I close my eyes when they tuck some of that hair behind my ear. Without even thinking, I lean into his touch, loving the way his warmth feels against me—anywhere.
“Gavino’s company is huge, he likes to make sure his wife is always protected. Usually, his driver or one of the men take her, the other day it was me. She’s also my cousin,” he reminds me.
“What kind of sales?” I ask, trying to dig a bit deeper.
Arlo chuckles, lifting his head and touching his lips to my nose in a small kiss. “The boring kind, tesoro. Let’s talk about something else, or maybe not talk.”
I blink, my mouth dropping open slightly. “Again?” I breathe.
“We can work up to it, Lenora.”
I bite my bottom lip, nodding, then we do exactly as he suggested. We work up to it. I have my promised third orgasm of the night and he has his second. We fall asleep in one another’s arms and if I could describe the perfect night, this would most definitely be it.
Chapter Four
ARLO
I groan reaching for my phone as it dances on the nightstand. The name that flashes across the screen causes my entire body to recoil. I look down at Lenora, her back is to me, her blonde hair wild against the black fabric covered pillow. Sleeping soundly, unaware that I’m a piece of shit who is lying to her.
Merda.
Grabbing my pack of cigarettes, and my phone, I walk out onto my balcony, slowly closing the door behind me.
“What do you want?” I demand as soon as I slide my thumb across the screen.
“Chocolate or vanilla?” Wynter’s voice barks through the phone.
Slipping my cigarette between my lips, I light it and inhale, allowing the smoke to fill my lungs, I pinch my eyes closed.
“Why are you calling me in the middle of the night about dessert flavors?”
She lets out a harrumph sound. “I’m putting cake flavors together for the baker. I go in first thing in the morning, it’s not the middle of the night, it’s four. I just finished my workout and am getting started for the day.”
“Your workout?” I ask.
She hums. “You like a fit body, right? I want to make sure I look good on our big day, and for you that night.” I hear her giggle and my stomach lurches at the idea of the wedding night.
After being wrapped up in Lenora, I have zero desire to fuck another woman, but my duty will, no doubt, be to fuck my wife. The thought makes me physically ill.
“Chocolate,” I sigh, wishing to get her off of the phone before Lenora wakes.
She hums. “It’s so much harder for the white frosting and I only want buttercream, I can’t stand fondant. Vanilla will just make everything easier,” she rambles.
“Then do vanilla,” I exhale before inhaling my cigarette again, then let it out and pinch my eyes closed.
“But it’s not what you want.”
She sounds like a whiny, petulant child. “I don’t give a fuck, Wynter. Do whatever the fuck you want. I’ll be there and that’s the only thing that I give a shit about,” I announce.
There’s a moment of silence, then she sighs. “Okay,” she breathes.
She sounds hurt. No matter how much I despise her, I don’t want to hurt her, not really. “Do vanilla, it’s what you want, it’s your day,” I say, keeping my voice softer.
She sniffles and I’m fairly certain that it’s completely fake. But I just want her off the phone. “Okay,” she chirps sounding as if she couldn’t be happier. I snort, yeah, fucking fake puttana.
“Don’t call me again about stupid shit like this,” I warn before I end the call and power my phone completely off.
I stay outside, continuing to smoke my cigarette, knowing without a doubt that I won’t be able to go back to sleep. Besides, it’s almost time for this fantasy to end. Lenora will need to go home soon and I’ll need to get back to work, to Wynter.
Just when I’m about to stub out my smoke, I feel two small hands slide around my sides and wrap around my waist. Her lips touch the center of my back and I let out a breath, releasing the tension from that fucking phone call.
“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice sweet as sugar and honey.
Spinning around in her arms, I tip my head down and see her standing before me in nothing but my shirt. It’s buttoned in the middle, the bottom open and so is the top, the neckline cut so deep that I can see the swells of her tits.
Inhaling my smoke one last time, I reach over and stub it out in the ashtray that is balancing on the railing next to me. Shifting my palm, I place it against the center of her exposed chest.
“I am now,” I breathe as I slide my hand to her tit, gently gripping her heavy breast.
Lenora’s tits are firm but natural, large enough to fill my palm with some that spills over. She’s perfect, every fucking part of her scream’s woman. She’s soft and warm, her body plush where it needs to be, slim at the waist, her curves naturally breathtaking.
“Carlo,” she sighs, her head tilting back and her eyes find mine.
“I wonder,” I murmur as my cock grows hard between us.
She hums, licking her plump pink lips. Dipping my chin, I find her nipple with my finger and pinch it as my lips touch hers.
“Will you let me fuck you out here on the balcony where anyone could see?”
Her breath hitches, she lets out a short gasp and then her eyes find mine when she pulls her head away to look up at me. I expect to see horror, maybe annoyance or embarrassment at my request.
I’m used to fucking whores, they don’t care where they spread, it’s their job. Lenora isn’t them, she’s good and clean, she’s soft and gentle. She blushes, and she’s admitted that she’d never had an orgasm from oral before, she’s nothing like a whore.
“I think…” She inhales deeply then gathers herself. “I think that I would like that.” She smiles softly.
I blink, then without another word, I release her breast, wrapping my hands around her waist and pick her up to set her on the small bistro table in the corner. My cock is hard as nails. Without a word, I ease myself inside of her until I’m buried deep.
Lenora wraps her hands around my biceps, her nails digging into my muscles. “God, why does it feel so good, every time?” she sighs.
Pulling out slightly, I sink back inside. “Perché sei stata creata per me.”
“Harder, please,” she begs.
I grunt, loving the way that she begs for me. Loving her pleas. If I could keep her begging, I fucking would.
Pulling out, I slam back inside of her so hard that the table jumps beneath her. Lenora lets out a long moan, and that’s when I know that she craves it as much as I do. No more holding back. I made love to her the first time, but not now.
I dip my chin, my eyes focused on hers and I grin. Touching my lips to hers, I fuck her until my neighbors hear her screaming my name.
ELENORA
When Carlo drops me off at my place, I can’t help but swoon as his retreating form moves down my hallway. I bite the corner of my lip, my eyes focused on his ass and his long gait. Moments ago, that strong body was wrapped around me, inside of me, owning me.
With a heavy sigh, I open the apartment door and slip inside, locking it behind me.
“That is a serious walk of shame,” Chloe announces.
Lifting my eyes, I find her sitting at our small five-piece table with her coffee in hand and a bagel on a
plate in front of her.
“I’m not even sorry about it either.” I shrug, my lips turning up into a small smile.
She snorts. “I’ll just bet you’re not. Well, come and spill, girl.”
My legs still wobble, my thighs are like Jell-O and my pussy aches with each step that I take—I’ve never felt better. Chloe smirks up at me, watching my pitiful attempt to hobble over to sit down in the chair next to her. When I do sit, it’s slowly and gingerly.
“He really did a number on you didn’t he?” she asks with a laugh.
I let out a heavy breath, reaching forward and snagging half of her bagel. She makes a noise, but I just roll my eyes. Chloe loves her breakfast bagel and normally I would never get in between her and her carbs, but I physically can’t get to the kitchen for food right now.
“It was,” I begin. Inhaling a deep breath, I sigh. “It was amazing. I’ve never experienced anything like that before with another guy. He was, out of this world.”
I know I’m gushing, but I don’t care. Arlo was the best I’ve ever had. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was a virgin before, because no other man made me feel the things that he did in just one night’s time.
“Which means he’s had lots and lots of practice,” she quips.
My eyes find hers and I frown. I hadn’t thought of that. Worrying my bottom lip, I pick at the half of bagel and wonder if she’s right.
“Which is fine, because you get to reap the benefits,” she adds when I don’t say anything.
I shrug a shoulder, looking down at the table. “I guess. I didn’t even think about that though. You’re probably right. I mean, I’ve never gone to bed with a guy after only knowing them a few weeks and I practically threw myself at him. He’s gorgeous and charming, I’m sure tons of women have fallen at his feet.”
My stomach twists at just the idea. Chloe reaches out, wrapping her hand around my wrist. She squeezes and I lift my gaze to hers again. “They probably have, but he’s with you, now. He is, right? With you?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.
Pressing my hand to my cheek, I feel the warmth fill my entire body and I know for sure that I’m blushing from her question. I nod. Schoolgirl fantasies fill my thoughts. I dream of a white dress, a church, his family and mine.
Instantly, I dream of it all, because although I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, I also know that I’ve never felt this way about another human being in my entire life.
“He is. He said I wasn’t allowed to date anyone else, that I was his,” I breathe.
Something flashes across Chloe’s features, but she schools them before she smiles a bit too brightly. I watch as she shoves a huge piece of bagel in her mouth, I assume so that she can’t say anything else.
I frown. Something is really off, really, really, off. She’s choosing to ignore it, so I do my best to do the same. It’s easy enough. Once I finish eating my stolen bread, I make my way to the bathroom and start to get ready for work.
Hopefully, the shop is busy today, too busy to question Chloe’s strange behavior, too busy to second guess last night. Just—too damn busy to think. That’s what I need.
Chapter Five
ARLO
It’s been less than ten hours since I’ve been inside of Lenora and yet I can’t seem to think of anything else. The salad and chicken breast in front of me, along with the whiskey, is bland and almost depressing. I want to taste Lenora again, not this mediocre food.
“You’ve met someone,” Vino announces.
Lifting my gaze to his, I arch a brow. “I’m marrying Wynter in a few days, of course I have,” I say, brushing off his too close for comfort observation.
He shakes his head, those green eyes meeting mine and a cocky smirk appears on his lips. “What’s her name, then? Don’t tell me Wynter because I know you can’t stand that conniving bitch.”
“What does it matter, huh?”
Gavino sighs, right now he isn’t my boss, he’s acting more like a friend and it’s now that I realize he’s been this way lately—soft.
“My cousin makes you soft,” I point out my new observation.
His green eyes narrow and his jaw sets hard. “She does not,” he grinds out.
Chuckling, I pick up my glass of whiskey and toss back its contents. “She does, she has and I can’t deny that it’s a good look for you, cugino. When do the babies come, huh?”
I watch as his lips twitch and he rolls his eyes before emptying his own highball glass. “Soon hopefully,” he shrugs.
“Good,” I say, dipping my chin. “She may be the only hope that we have of saving the Zanetti bloodline, yeah?”
“Your father will come unglued if you don’t have offspring, Arlo,” Gavino warns.
I nod, looking down at my bland chicken. It’s then that I realize why I detest the chicken so much. It’s plain, boring, lifeless, just like Wynter. I have absolutely nothing to look forward to with her at my side.
When it comes to Lenora, I can imagine that we would never be bored, passion would always be at the forefront, and that thought fills me with a happiness that I didn’t know I could feel.
Then as soon as it comes, it fades, and foreboding enters my mind.
Lenora will eventually leave me. She will never live a life where she knowingly shares me with another woman. I would never ask her to either. And yet, isn’t that exactly what I’m doing by claiming her? By wooing her, by fucking her?
“Who is she?” Gavino gently urges.
I shake my head, pushing the chicken to the side. “Does it matter?” I ask, lifting my gaze to his.
The look of pity is one that I’m not used to by Vino. He has never looked remorseful a day in all of the years that I’ve known him. He always has a plan, he’s always calculating, and he never second-guesses his decisions, until now.
“I can’t let this wedding happen, cugino.”
Lifting my hand, I stop him before he says anything else. “The wedding will happen. One day maybe I’ll be able to get rid of the puttana, but until we can do it with no detriment to the famiglia, then we go forward as planned. Having her father on our side is important.”
I say the words, but hate every single one of them. I don’t want to give Wynter my last name. I don’t want to fill her with my child. I don’t want to build a life with her. Not when I have Lenora in the background, and that’s the only place she can be.
She can only be my comáre. It’s a title that many women wear, kept in lavish apartments with allowances and expensive gifts to make up for the fact that they will never be more than a kept whore.
“Why are you being so goddamn stubborn?” he grinds out.
I snort as I stand to my feet. “Love of famiglia, my father may have never wanted to be the Boss, but he damn sure instilled the rules of the life in my head at an early age. You know how it goes, Vino. You know that I will do what needs to be done, famiglia always comes first. My loyalty is to them, to you, above all else.”
“Sometimes it’s misplaced,” he grumbles.
“You would have married Luciana even if she weren’t Antonio Rossi’s daughter?” I ask.
Something flashes in his eyes. “It wouldn’t have even crossed my mind, but this is different.”
Shaking my head, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair. “No, it isn’t. It’s the exact same, except, you just got lucky with your bride.”
Turning my back to him, my hand falls and I walk away from the table hearing his curse as I do. I can’t dwell on this, on the situation that I’m in, a second longer. Though it’s wrong, though I’ll be doing a fuck’ve a lot of confessing in the future, I’m going to do what feels good.
Which means I’m going to keep Lenora for as long as humanly possible.
Jogging over to my car, I smile at the all-white with black accent, Aston Martin.
Gripping the steering wheel, I sigh, knowing what I need to do tonight versus what I would like to do. I would like to call up Lenora and take her gambling
and dancing, maybe feed her a real dinner. What I need to do, is pick up my fiancée and go to my parents for a family dinner and wedding discussion.
If I can get away afterward to see Lenora, I will. But this is my new life. Juggling my wife and my comáre, hoping that one never meets the other. Merda.
ELENORA
I check my phone for probably the millionth time today. Nothing. Carlo hasn’t texted or called me, not even once. My body still aches from his touch, my pussy screams from his delicious invasion and yet, nothing.
Frowning, I toss it back under the counter of the store. My store. Sugar Cookies isn’t just the store where I work, I own it.
College wasn’t really for me and my parents had a whole account saved for me and my brother. When he went off, lived in the dorms, and became an engineer they paid for it all.
Instead of telling me, tough luck, they handed me the same amount of money as they spent on his education so that I could start my dream business.
Granted, it was with stipulations. I may not have gone to college, but I’ve taken several business courses over the years to ensure that their investment wasn’t for naught.
Wiping down the front counter, I glance at the shop’s clock and let out a sigh. It’s closing time, which means that Arlo hasn’t contacted me in well over fourteen hours. Fourteen hours of silence after sex, the best sex of my life, that he swore wasn’t just some one-time thing could make a girl feel self-conscious.
A shadow darkens my front door and I blink as I look out on the sidewalk. There’s a man wearing a suit standing right in front of me. Tugging the door open slightly, I give him a smile and he tilts his head to the side, his green eyes searching my face.
I feel as though, the way he’s looking at me, that I should recognize him, but I don’t.
“Hello? I’m closing up, but if you need to get something, I don’t mind staying open a bit later.” I smile, trying to calm my nerves.
Becoming his Mistress: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel Page 4