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Barresi: Emily Trilogy: A New Orleans Mafia Romance

Page 8

by Lux Miller


  The charity ball goes late into the night. I can barely keep my eyes open by the time Luca signals that it’s time for us to leave. I’ve had more champagne tonight than the rest of my life combined and I can feel the effects buzzing around in my head. Neither of us are in any condition to drive. I’m not drunk. I still have my wits about me. I’m perfectly capable of making decisions, but my reaction time is slow. I certainly wouldn’t trust myself behind the wheel of a car. Not that I’m a good driver anyway. What I know was learned from playing a bootleg copy of Grand Theft Auto, so I’m relieved that Luca has a driver.

  As the familiar black Mercedes pulls into view, I can feel Luca’s arm that's draped over my shoulders getting heavier. I shrug my shoulders and he stumbles backward, flinging one hand wildly to my side. He clamps his fingers against my skin. I yelp softly as his fingernails bite into me through the sheer fabric of the dress. He pulls me against him possessively and snakes one hand underneath the edge of the fabric on my waist. His fingertips are now resting against the warmth of my stomach. It’s a bit uncomfortable and I feel exposed, but I don’t make any motions to move his hand. His touch is somehow comforting.

  His driver spills out of the vehicle with a sigh. He approaches us apprehensively and raises an eyebrow as he mutters to himself. “He’s leaving with the same woman he came with. That’s new.” I turn my gaze on the man who can’t be more than twenty years old as he wrestles Luca’s hand out of my dress.

  He stumbles with the onslaught of Luca’s weight as he throws one of Luca’s arms over his shoulder and halfway carries the man to the car. He pours him into the backseat, then holds a hand out to me. Lowering his voice, he asks like it’s protocol, “Will you be joining Mr. Barresi for the rest of the night?”

  I lean down to peer into the car. Luca is sitting on the far side of the backseat with both of his hands resting on his knees. His head is tilted back against the headrest and his eyes are closed. Shrugging, I allow the man to guide me to the backseat of the car. “Nothing left to lose at this point, right?”

  The man returns my shrug and points to the center console between the front seats. “Condoms are in there if you're so inclined. Wouldn’t be the first time this week, doubt it will be the last.”

  The driver closes the door behind me and slides into the front seat with another man wearing a suit. I can see the gun on this man’s hip and I instantly recognize him as one of the security guards from the house. The man twists in his seat and cocks one eyebrow up as his gaze lingers on me. “Would you look at that, Kev… he’s a one-woman man tonight.” The driver nods, watching me through the rear view mirror. “I know, Ray. It’s weird. He showed up with her. He’s leaving with her… and she’s not even trying to ride his dick in the backseat. I don’t know if his game is off or not, but he’s so drunk he probably can’t get it up anyway.”

  Irritated, I lean toward the front seat. “You know… I can hear you. He can too for that matter.”

  The driver bounces a shoulder with a chuckle. “He’s so drunk, he won’t even remember this by tomorrow. Trust me, I’ve seen him like this a hundred times. To see Mr. Barresi wasted is no surprise. The surprise is seeing that he chose to bring YOU home with him. Instead of one of those easy bimbos who were eyeing him all night. I ain’t trying to start no trouble, miss… but let’s call a spade a spade.”

  I lean back against the bucket seat as the car pulls away from the charity ball. Beside me, Luca snores softly, his mouth hanging open slightly. As we bump along the winding New Orleans highway, I roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation. Here I am in the backseat of a freaking Mercedes with one of the richest and most dangerous men in New Orleans and he’s passed out drunk. If I thought I could get away with it, I could rob him blind and ditch and run. I could be halfway to Slidell by morning.

  It’s a tempting thought and I slide my hand onto his hip out of curiosity. I pat him down in search of a wallet, but quickly realize he doesn’t appear to have one on him. If he does have one, it must be in one of his back pockets. As I shift my hand across his lap to check the other pocket, he grabs hold of my wrist, his stone-grey eyes watching me silently.

  When I don’t try to jerk my hand away from him, he shifts it onto his crotch, murmuring, “I think you were trying to grope there.” Despite the fact that the guard in the front seat is watching my every move, or perhaps in spite of it, I clamp my hand around his crotch and squeeze gently. This elicits a breathy moan from his lips as he begins to harden under my hand.

  I narrow my eyes at him as he keeps his eyes trained on my face, though his vision is clearly unfocused. I lean my face to his face and whisper, “Really, Luca? You’re so drunk you can barely stand up, but you can still get this up?”

  Luca nods and presses his hand down over mine, pushing my hand firmly against his semi-hardness. “It’s a gift, Emily…” I blink at him as I pull at my hand, but his grip on me is firm enough that I can’t pull away.

  He still knows who I am, so I guess he isn’t completely trashed, but he’s drunk enough that he has zero inhibitions. “You know, I spent half the night admiring the way that dress fits your body and the other half envisioning it hitting my floor.”

  My cheeks flush bright red as I’m finally able to wriggle my hand free of his crotch. “Luca Barresi, I’m not having sex with you tonight.” I lean my mouth closer to his ear, my voice breathy as I add, “Sex wasn’t part of the deal. If we end up having sex, it’s going to be because I want to, not because you’re paying me to. I’m nobody’s whore…”

  He grimaces at my words and shoves his hand to his crotch to rearrange himself. From that moment on, he’s distantly quiet for the rest of the drive to his home. When we pull up in front of the statuesque estate, he’s sobered slightly. At least I think he has. He’s sober enough to be pissed off at my rebuttal of his advancements. He slides out of the backseat and stomps up the front walk. He nearly kicks the door open and slams it shut behind himself. The driver, whose name I think I heard is Kev, walks to my door and opens it, offering a hand to help me out of the vehicle.

  He bows his head to me as I step out of the backseat and he shuts the door. “Let me walk you to the door, miss. Ray will stand guard out here until you’re safely delivered to your personal detail.” Without another word, Kev escorts me up the walk and inside of the house where, true to his word, Mike’s waiting for me. I giggle as I see him sitting on a bench in the foyer reading the comics from the newspaper. Kev and Mike exchange practiced nods and Kev disappears back outside while Mike stands and folds the newspaper sheet under his arm.

  He looks me over and nods, knowingly. “I’m going to take a wild guess here and say that Luca got completely trashed. He spent the night trying to woo you and the moment he had you alone, he tried to get in your panties. Judging on the fact that your dress looks to be intact and your hair isn’t wildly mussed up, I’m going to say you turned him down and he didn’t take it well.”

  My eyes widen as color flushes over my entire face. I bring both hands to my face to try to hide my embarrassment, “Good grief. I have all of that written on my face?”

  Mike chuckles and shakes his head. “I told you, Emily. I’ve known the man since he was in diapers. He doesn’t hide his emotions or his disappointments very well. Besides, he stumbled through here muttering something about a tease and then proceeded to slam three different doors. Luca Barresi isn’t used to being denied anything. If he decided that he wanted you, he was expecting to have you. He obviously didn’t get what he wanted…”

  I nod in understanding, shaking my head. “So he’s throwing a temper tantrum?”

  Mike’s head bobs up and down. “Something like that. He’s going to pace around upstairs and rage for a bit. Then he’ll likely realize that he’s not going to get laid tonight and he’ll do inappropriate things with himself and pass out. Tomorrow morning, he probably won’t even remember that you rebuffed him, so don’t worry.”

  I hear a loud crash upstairs
and my eyes immediately meet Mike’s. He shrugs like it’s normal, but it isn’t normal to me. I kick off my heels and make my way to the staircase that leads upstairs. Mike's words of warning reach my ears as I’m about halfway up the stairs, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Emily.”

  Ignoring him, I finish climbing the stairs and walk down the hallway until I find an open door. Inside, I see Luca pacing back and forth across the floor. His expensive Italian leather shoes are discarded in a corner and his tuxedo jacket is tossed to the floor. He has worked the knot of his bow tie free so that the ends hang down loosely. His crisp white button-down has been completely undone, exposing his bare chest.

  I step inside the room and quietly shut the door behind me, then lean against it as he continues to pace. Crossing my arms over my chest, I watch him as he mutters to himself. He stops mid-step as he catches me watching him. He turns to face me and those his eyes are blazing, his body language is calm. “Come to rub in the fact that you won’t fuck me?”

  I shrug and accept his talking to me as an invitation into the room. I walk over to him and gently tug on the remnants of the bow tie so that it slides off his neck and onto the floor. His breath hitches as I slide my hands onto his chest, my fingertips brushing over his nipples. He shudders and bites back a moan, watching me intently. I flick my wrists up to his shoulders and push his shirt off them so that it slides down his arms and into a crumpled heap on the floor.

  His hisses as I step closer to him. “So you’ll tease me into oblivion, but you won’t fuck me?” Shrugging, I deftly unbutton his trousers and step back from him as they ease down off his hips. He steps out of them and closes the distance between us so fast that he nearly knocks me over as he yanks me against him and cages me in his arms. “Emily… please… why won’t you—?”

  Shivering in his arms, I shake my head and interrupt him as I press a finger to his lips, “Shhh. You can’t force chemistry. This is all fake, remember? I let you kiss me tonight because that was part of the deal. To make it look real. The dancing, the little touches… they’re all part of the charade.”

  For a moment, Luca looks stricken, a flicker of hurt in his eyes as I step away from him. I sigh and glance over my shoulder to the door. “Look, I should be going. Let’s get you into the bed and settled so I can get into something more comfortable. This dress may be phenomenal, but it’s also heavy.”

  Luca frowns as I begin to step backward toward the door. He reaches out and grabs my hand and I almost yelp at the electricity that shoots through me at his touch. “Stay with me tonight…”

  I shake my head furiously, pulling my hand out of his grasp. He continues to close the distance every time I step away from him. As I back up against the door, he presses his body against mine. “Do you feel that?”

  Swallowing, I swing my head from side to side. He nods in agreement. “Exactly. I’m not turned on right now. I’m literally just asking you to stay with me tonight.”

  Licking my lips slowly, I motion to the dress, “I can’t sleep in this, Luca. And I don’t have much on under it.”

  He bites down on his bottom lip, closing his eyes with a moan. “Not a mental picture I needed right now. You can borrow something of mine. You may end up swimming in it, but at least your ass cheeks will be covered so that I won’t be tempted to touch what clearly isn’t mine.”

  His words almost have a sad ring to them as he backs away from me. I stand there, watching him as he walks to the dresser then returns with a shirt and pair of basketball shorts. He motions to the enormous mahogany four-poster bed tucked into a corner. “It’s big enough that we won’t even have to touch. I’ll turn around so you can change. Just tell me you’ll stay.”

  I sigh heavily. I can still smell the alcohol on his breath and it’s permeating his pores to mix with the heady scent of his cologne. Something about this man makes it almost impossible for me to tell him no. I reach around behind myself and let the zipper down. I make a motion to him to turn around as the dress begins to slide down my body. He nods and quickly turns around. I step out of the dress and yank on the shirt and shorts while his back is turned. Squatting down, I pick up the dress and lay it over a chair that’s pushed behind a desk. I step over to his bed and eye him one more time. “Just sleep, right? You won’t try anything?”

  Luca nods and climbs into the bed, sliding across to the side against the wall. He pats the bed beside him and grabs a couple decorative pillows from the foot of the bed and creates a barrier between us. He watches me intently as I crawl into the bed, but he doesn’t make any move to touch me. “On my honor, Emily…”

  I lay there in bed, but it’s impossible for me to get comfortable. Luca’s keeping his hands to himself as promised, but everything about tonight feels wrong. The dancing, the kissing, the possessive touching. It felt so good when it was happening, but I know that I can’t get involved with this man. He owns me for the next three months, but he doesn’t own my heart. Despite his obvious attraction to it, he doesn’t own my body either. Which is good, because I probably wouldn’t hesitate to give it to him, even if he IS a whore.

  Who would’ve thought that a Mafia Prince would have such honor? To not touch a woman that doesn’t want to be touched? Does that mean he would have touched me if I hadn’t asked him not to? It’s a question I want an answer to, but the soft snores coming from his side of the bed mean he’s already asleep. That's probably best. If the last couple of mornings are any indication, he’s going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow. The more rest he gets, the better.

  As I lay there with my thoughts, I remember something he said the morning that Amber stormed out of the kitchen. It was an off-the-cuff comment that wasn’t revisited. But if I’m judging his life based solely on tonight, it was a plea for help from a man who isn’t allowed to have a weakness. His tone may have been joking, but he did put it out there that he was changing my contract to include not letting him get shit-faced drunk anymore.

  As I slip out of the bed and tiptoe out of the room, I steel my resolve against what I’m about to do. I’m about to search this place high and low and dispose of every ounce of alcohol I can find. He’s either going to be incredibly appreciative of my valiant effort or he’s going to be madder than a hornet’s nest. He’s going to be hungover tomorrow either way, so I may as well do him a favor and make sure it’s the last time. It may be the end of my freedom in this house, but I’ve already seen him furious with me and lived to tell the tale. What’s the worst that can happen?

  NINE

  The first hints of daylight have begun to streak across the sky by the time I get to the last room in the house. The last one I can access anyway. I didn’t go into the other two bedrooms upstairs and I wasn’t able to get inside one downstairs that was locked from the inside. Strange to have a room that isn’t a bedroom locked when everyone in the house is asleep, but Luca’s a secretive man. Whatever is behind that door is probably something I have no business seeing. I probably wouldn’t want to see it either. It’d be more secrets and lies to file away inside my brain. My brain is teeming with enough of Luca’s secrets as it is. I don’t need any more to store away in there.

  Sighing, I pull out the last bottle that was stashed underneath the wet bar in what appears to be a game room. There’s a pool table, a foosball table, an antique chessboard, and a dartboard. Maybe Luca will let me down here eventually. He can’t keep me stashed away upstairs forever. There are only so many reruns a girl can watch before she croaks of boredom.

  I laugh to myself as I turn the bottle over in my hands. Scotch. It’s unopened and it appears to be vintage. I know in my gut that I am doing the right thing, but I can tell by the gold seal on the bottle and the scrollwork on the label that the bottle I’m holding was expensive. Very expensive. Glancing over my shoulder, I crack the seal and take a sniff. The scent of liquor washes over me and almost knocks me on my butt.

  Shuddering, I take a swig. I know curiosity killed the cat. But as a street rat that lived ab
ove a bar, I’m curious what the top-shelf stuff tastes like. My eyes water as the amber liquid burns all the way down my throat. It’s stout, but aside from the tingling sensation left behind in my mouth, it's actually pretty smooth.

  I shrug and stand up, walking over to the sink of the wet bar. I wince slightly, then upturn the bottle over the sink and watch as the translucent liquor splashes down the drain. The bottle is nearly empty when I hear a sharp intake of breath behind me followed by a growl. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  I spin around on my heels as I drop the bottle, cringing as it shatters against the floor. What’s left of its contents spill over the taupe marble. Leaning my back against the wet bar, I bite down on my bottom lip as a disheveled and angry Luca meets my gaze. I point dumbly to the broken glass on the floor. “I… I got rid of it…” Luca’s eyes are feral as he sniffs the air, then storms across the room. He slams open the doors of the wet bar and screams, “All of it?!? What did you do with it?”

  Swallowing, I glance at the sink, then up at his face defiantly. His look is absolutely feral as he shifts over and presses his body to mine. The edge of the counter bites into my back as his body crushes mine against it. His voice is menacing as he brings his face to mine, his alcohol-laden breath assaulting my nose, “You had no right to do that!”

 

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