“Look at her,” he said in an awestruck voice. “Have you ever seen anything that beautiful before?”
Tommaso laughed. “No, brother, I never have.”
Inca danced over to them, grabbing their hands and sliding them under her dress. She was naked, and she grinned at their surprise as they encountered bare flesh. “I belong to you,” she said to them.
Soon, Raffaelo led them both upstairs to his office, where, as promised, an entire wall looked out onto the dancefloor. Inca grinned when she saw it and pressed herself against the glass.
“And they can’t see in?”
“Not when the light is like this. If the lights went out below, then yes, they could.”
Inca turned around and faced them, pausing for a second but then pulling her dress over her head. Under it, she was wearing the leather harness, the straps crisscrossing her beautiful body, her breasts, over her belly, framing her navel. “Then let’s hope the lights don’t go out.”
Raffaelo and Tommaso, both gaping at her, moved towards her, and she kissed them while they stripped off, dropping to her knees and sucking each of their cocks in turn, just briefly, before Raffaelo picked her up. Tommaso laid back on the desk and she straddled him. She took his cock in her hand and began to stroke him towards orgasm as Raffaelo plunged into her cunt from behind, fucking her hard as she jerked Tommaso off. Tommaso came on her belly as she cried out her own orgasm, then, swiftly, it was Tommaso inside her as Raff fucked her ass. Raff’s hands were massaging her breasts; Tommaso’s fingers stroking her belly, finger-fucking her navel.
The three of them, fevered and delirious, tumbled to the floor of the office, then Raffaelo was thrusting into her cunt again as she lay beneath him. Tommaso, panting, kissed her mouth and her face, murmuring what he wanted to do to her.
Inca shuddered through another two orgasms before they all took a break. “Wow,” she said, panting for air. “Now, which one of you is going to fuck me against that glass?”
Tommaso sat down at Raffaelo’s desk and grinned at his brother. “It’s your office, brother …”
Raffaelo threw his head back and laughed; Inca had never seen him so laidback and loose. Hardly surprising, given this situation. She kissed him as he took her in his arms. “I like Happy Raff.”
He laughed. “How drunk are you?”
“Very …”
He kissed her, lifting her up and pressing her back against the glass. His cock nudged at her cunt and she smiled. “You’re so hard …”
He thrust hard inside her, and she gasped at the feeling of him. Tommaso was watching, his favorite thing to do while they fucked. Afterward, Raff turned her so her breasts and her belly were pressed up against the glass as he took her from behind. Knowing that any minute the light could change, and a whole club full of people would see them fucking, was thrilling to her.
Eventually, they had to admit exhaustion and, dressing slowly, they decided to walk through the warm night, back up to the villa.
It was nearly dawn before they reached home and, falling into bed, they slept soundly until mid-morning. Inca was in the shower when she heard shouting.
Dressing quickly, she ran to see what was wrong. She heard Tommaso angrily berating someone. “Why did you let him in? What the hell were you thinking?”
Inca saw someone standing a little way down the driveway and she went to Raffaelo. “What is it, Raff? What’s going on?”
Raffaelo turned to her, his eyes dark. “It’s our father, Inca. Our father is here.”
Belinda felt a hand under her elbow and Knox Westerwick pulled her into an alleyway. “What the fuck are you playing at?”
Irritated, she wrenched her arm out of his grip. “It’s none of your concern, Knox.”
“It is if you’re messing with my friend’s head.”
Belinda took out a cigarette and lit it. “I’m doing no such thing. I’m merely reaching out to an old friend.”
Knox snorted. “Spare me the bullshit.”
Belinda studied him. “Please don’t tell me you’ve gone soft on me, Knox. You were the only other interesting person in this shithole of a town.”
Knox sneered at her. “You’re not interesting, Belinda; you’re what you always were. A stone-cold bitch.”
Belinda smiled coldly. “But, apart from that whore who is in Italy, practically the only woman left alive. At least, of your friends.”
She knew it was a low blow, and she watched Knox’s expression shut down.
“You’re mistaken, Belinda. We were never friends.”
She watched him walk away and smiled to herself.
Inca stayed out of the way while Tommaso and Raffaelo dealt with their father. Raffaelo came to tell her that his father was insisting on staying at the villa for a couple of weeks and they’d agreed, on the condition that his security team left. He agreed—if he could keep his private secretary with him, an obsequious man called Giuliano who looked more a Mafia heavy than a secretary.
“After all,” Edgar had told his sons. “This house is mine.”
Inca was introduced to him briefly, and in those moments, she formed an opinion of him that wasn’t positive. He was handsome and tall, like his sons, but he had none of their warmth or joy. Instead, his dark eyes were small and piercing and the way he smiled at her, half-mocking, half-dismissive, didn’t make her want to know him any better.
Instead, she and Raffaelo concentrated on their plans to open a teahouse and spent a great deal of time in the city. Tommaso accompanied them when he could, but his own work seemed to be keeping him busy.
Inca had her own room; they all thought it best while Edgar was there, but Raffaelo made sure it had a working lock, and Inca didn’t fail to lock it at night. Edgar made her uneasy; the way his eyes would rake over her body made her feel nauseous.
She managed to escape his presence mostly, but one day, just by chance, he managed to corner her in the garden.
Inca had found a little quiet place where she could curl up with a book, but he came upon it, and Inca couldn’t see a way to politely excuse herself as he sat down beside her.
“You have certainly made my son very happy,” he began, his tone pleasant.
“Tommaso’s a wonderful man,” she said carefully, edging away from him on the seat. Edgar laughed.
“Of course he is. Tommaso …”
Inca flushed. Did he know? How could he? They had been so careful. “Both of your sons are a credit,” she said, not being able to help the snark she felt.
To their mother, asshole, not you.
Edgar smiled at her coldly; she saw her barb had hit home. “And how about your family, Inca? I’m sorry to hear about your mother—your adoptive mother, I mean.”
She stiffened. “Thank you.”
“Your birth family is interesting, of course.”
Inca’s heart froze. “Not really.”
Edgar feigned surprise. “Really? I would call murder interesting.”
Inca swallowed; she made to stand, but Edgar’s hand shot out and pulled her down again. “My family is none of your business, Mr. Winter.”
“Oh, but it is. Your birth mother was murdered … because of you, I understand.”
Inca gritted her teeth and said nothing, looking away from his penetrating gaze.
“Strange, they say karma is a bitch. Your mother got what she deserved.”
Bastard.
Inca lost her temper then. “Go fuck yourself,” she hissed, and he laughed in delight.
“That’s better, a little spirit. So, tell me, Inca, will you go crazy like your mother? Will you do to Tommaso—or, let’s be honest, Raffaelo—what your mother did to your father? Because then, I assure you, my delectable Inca, it will be very much my business.”
She wrenched her hand away from his grip and stepped away. “I have no idea what you are talking about, Winter, but I will tell you this. Tommaso and Raffaelo deserve better than a bastard like you for a father. Whatever it is that you did to them, th
at you did to Tommaso … I will make you pay for it. Just watch me.”
She stalked off, her anger flooding through her veins like hot lava. Fucker. Asshole. She wanted to scream the words, but she knew if she did, the twins would come running, and all hell would break loose. No, this was her fight, not theirs. What the hell had he meant by ‘what your mother did to your father’?
She locked herself away in her bedroom. Then, later, when Raffaelo came home telling her about the premises he’d found for their business, he looked so happy Inca didn’t him about the incident with Edgar that morning. Inca looked out of the window and chewed her lip. If she told Raffaelo what Edgar had done to her, Raffaelo would go insane and probably shoot the fucker where he stood.
Inca gave a grim smile. No, she couldn’t risk Raffaelo going mad, but she had to tell him something, something that made him aware of the depth of Edgar’s hatefulness, his threats. Because that had scared her more than anything. Inca went into her bedroom and started to strip, throwing on some old sweats. She moved to the window to close the blinds and then stopped. Edgar Winter was standing in the gardens, staring up at her window. His smile was chilling. Inca slammed the blinds then. Making a decision, she went to find the twins.
Tyler Sardee was tired, but happy to be with Nancy’s family. Being with them had helped him grieve for his beloved wife, but he missed Inca terribly. He sat alone on the porch of the house, Boomer asleep at his feet. His cell phone buzzed and he smiled when he saw the caller ID.
“Hello, sweetheart. It’s good to hear from you.”
“Hey, Popsicle. How are you?”
Tyler and Inca chatted easily for a while. Then, hearing his daughter take a deep breath in, he felt his chest tighten. “What is it, little one?”
“Dad … I need to ask you something, and it’s not going to be easy. But I need you to tell me the truth now. Please.”
Tyler closed his eyes. He had known this moment would come—for years, ever since Inca was a teenager, he had been waiting for it. “It’s about your birth parents, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. Please, just tell me everything you know, however hard it might be to hear.”
Tyler sighed. “I will, but before I do, please, Inca, just tell me … are you in trouble? Is that why you need to know right now?”
“No …” she hesitated. “I’m not in trouble, but I could potentially be if I don’t know all the facts. There’s someone who … who could make things difficult.”
His heart was beating hard against his ribs. “Inca …”
“I just need to know so I can tell Tommaso and Raffaelo before they hear it from someone who could twist it. Dad … did my birth mom kill my father?”
Oh God.
“Yes, sweetheart. I’m sorry; she did.” He felt strangely relieved to be telling her the truth. “She was very sick, schizophrenic, and one day she snapped and beat him to death. She tried to take you with her when she attempted suicide, but, obviously, you survived.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. “Inca? Are you okay?”
He was relieved to hear her voice, strong, resigned. “Yes, Pops, I’m fine. I think I always knew it was something like that, so it’s not the biggest shock. I don’t remember it.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes.”
Tyler rubbed his eyes. “Sweetheart … I think we both need to go home at some point and make our peace with what happened. The lawyers are on at me to get Nancy’s estate settled and I think … well, I think I’ll sell the house and move out here permanently. Nancy would want me to start again, and I do like it here. So does Boomer.”
Inca chuckled quietly. “I miss his shaggy head. But, yeah, Dad, I think you’re right. At this moment, I can’t imagine going back to Willowbrook for anything other than to say goodbye.”
“Italy feels like home already?”
“Tommaso feels like home.” There was a slight hesitation after she said his name that Tyler picked up on.
“Raffaelo too, yes?”
“Yes.”
“They’re good boys.”
“They are, truly, Pops. I know you had your doubts …”
“Not anymore. They’ve kept you safe, and that’s all I ask.”
When Inca had said goodbye, Tyler stared out at the setting sun. It was cold here, but somehow it didn’t matter. Inca was safe; the Winter twins had kept her that way, and for that he was grateful. Tyler wasn’t stupid; he had guessed at some kind of … unusual arrangement between his daughter and the Winter twins, but he couldn’t judge any of them harshly. They made each other happy, and that’s all he could ask.
“Two weeks,” Tyler said to himself. “Two weeks and I’ll go home, settle things.” He scratched Boomer’s silky ears and sighed.
Time to move on. Time to live.
Raffaelo was like a little kid on Christmas morning as he showed her around the empty coffeehouse. He’d spotted it by chance as he’d passed to go to a friend’s … it had beautiful views over the Bay, over to Vesuvius. A balcony on the second floor overlooked the streets.
“God, this is perfect,” Inca said, as Raffaelo pulled her into his arms.
“You’re perfect, mio caro,” he said softly. His eyes were shining, and she could tell he was excited about the place. “We can complete on this this week, if you really like it.”
“I do, I really do …” But his lips were against hers then and, grinning, he danced her back into the empty building. Inca giggled at the mischievous look on his face. “I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Winter, and you’re a very, very rude boy …”
But she didn’t protest as he lifted her onto the counter and pushed her legs apart. “Always so much underwear on,” he mock-protested as he removed her panties. She collapsed into laughter as he bunched up the delicate cotton and threw them out of the window.
“They were my favorite pair!” she protested, but then he was between her legs and his tongue had found her clit and she couldn’t do anything but moan happily. He drove her to a state of almost frenzy, then unzipped himself and plunged into her, his cock huge and engorged, thrusting deep within her. His eyes never left hers.
“Ti amo tanto,” he said. “I love you so much.”
She clung to him as they moved together, her lips hungry against his. “Ti amo, Raffaelo. Ii amo.”
“Inca, sposami … sposami ed essere mia per sempre… Marry me and be mine forever …”
And at that moment, only the two of them existed in the world. She nodded, hot tears dropping down her cheeks. “Yes, Raffaelo. Yes, I will marry you …”
Of course, when they had returned to reality, they knew it wouldn’t be as easy. Tommaso.
“I can’t break his heart,” Inca whispered. “I won’t do it. I love you, Raffaelo, I do, more than … I love both of you. I can’t hurt him.”
He kissed her softly. “I know … I’m sorry I put you in this position. I should never have asked you … it was just, in the moment, it felt …”
“Right,” she said, and leaned against him. “It did. It does. But not at the expense of Tommaso.”
Raffaelo nodded. “I know. I know. Please, do not make yourself unhappy, mio caro. We three are happy. Let us stay like this.”
But however happy the three of them were, there were two things standing in the way.
One, their father. While he was there, they had to keep their distance from each other. Inca was growing increasingly tired of letting this man dictate to them. “No more,” she told the twins, and that night she led Tommaso to Raffaelo’s room and they made love long into the night. When they were asleep, Inca woke to see Edgar standing at the end of the bed, watching them. She met his gaze steadily until he smirked and walked out. She slid from the bed and locked the door after him.
There. Now he knows. No more secrets.
She didn’t give a fuck what Edgar Winter thought of her—if he thought she was a whore, so be it.
The other thing that stood
in their way was her unfinished business. “I think I have to go back for a while, just to say goodbye.”
Neither brother thought it was a great idea, but they understood why she needed to do it. “We’ll come with you,” Raffaelo said. “We won’t interfere, but I don’t think either of us feels comfortable you being there without us.”
Inca nodded, but something was bothering her. No, ‘bothering’ was the wrong word. Haunting. And she couldn’t pin down exactly what it was, just that, soon, very soon, all this would end. That she would die. She could feel death at her shoulder, just waiting for the opportunity. So she was greedy, wanting to spend all of her time with Raffaelo and Tommaso, not caring what anyone else thought.
At night, they shut the rest of the world out and made love to each other, then talked until dawn, making plans. Inca worried about Raffaelo, who seemed to be plagued with nightmares and dreams that he would not share with them, but which would keep him up.
Inca was thinking about this as she went into the study to return a book. Deep in thought, she pushed open the door and went to the bookshelf. As she slid the book back into place, the door behind her slammed. She turned—and saw Edgar Winter smiling nastily at her.
“Alone at last.”
That’s all he had to say to let her know this wasn’t going to be a friendly meeting. She glanced at the window—if she could get to it, she could push it open and get away. He caught up with her before she got halfway across the room.
“Let me go!” she struggled against his strong hands and he laughed.
“I don’t think so, Inca. How about you just lie back and let me show you what a real man could do for you.”
Losing her temper, she laughed in his face. “A real man, you piece of shit, doesn’t spend his life trying to destroy his sons.”
“What have I destroyed, Inca? Tell me? Because the way I see it, my boys have had every luxury, and now …” he kissed her roughly; she spit in his face. “They get to fuck a pretty little cunt like you. “
He had her trapped against the wall and his hand snaked up under her skirt. Inca screamed, but Edgar clamped his hand over her mouth. “Come on, beautiful, what’s your problem? After all, you’re fucking both of my boys … surely you have something left for me?”
Dr. Orgasm (A Holiday Romance Collection Book 2) Page 35