Barresi: Emily Trilogy: A New Orleans Mafia Romance

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Barresi: Emily Trilogy: A New Orleans Mafia Romance Page 36

by Lux Miller


  As she rises from her curtsy, Dante drops into a low bow, a sly smirk on his face as he makes a grand flourish with his right arm. I notice immediately that he’s not wearing the removable splint that he’s supposed to be wearing, and I shake my head at his back as he offers his arm to the willowy redhead. They disappear into the crowd, and I breathe a sigh of relief that Luca and I have pulled our masks back over our faces because all eyes have turned to us.

  I grip the Nyx purse tightly in one hand and Luca’s bicep in the other hand. He pulls me onto the dance floor, and I can feel dozens of eyes following us into the middle of the floor as the crowd parts to allow us access. Luca pulls me up against his body and wraps his arms tightly around my waist, one hand landing on my ass and the other grabbing hold of mine.

  My breath catches in my throat as Luca spins me away from him, then pulls me tightly against himself, possessively reclaiming my ass with his hand. As the music vibrates through my body, I let my inhibitions fade. Luca must sense my new-found confidence. He places both hands on my hips and moves me in time to the music.

  After several moments of his fingers digging into me, I finally let the last of my nervousness go and invoke my Hawaiian heritage to loosen my hips and let them sway in elongated motions. He takes advantage of my relaxed state, and twists my body fluidly, then tugs me back up against him with a groan.

  He leans his mouth down and breathes into my ear as the murmurs of the crowd surrounding us dissipate into the background, “Do you realize that everyone on this dance floor is watching us?”

  I smile and nod slightly. “Luca, don’t think for a minute that the mask hides your identity. You have a swagger that’s recognizable to everyone. Your aura enters a room before you do and the moment you follow, you command a room.”

  Luca groans softly at the ego stroke, but shakes his head down at me. “While that may be true, Emily… nobody in this room is watching me right now…”

  FIFTEEN

  Irony is a cruel mistress the next morning as a half-clothed redhead with wild curly hair sneaks down the stairs with her gorgeous blue dress half-askew. She doesn’t know it, but Luca and I have a decent view of the staircase from where we’re sitting, nursing our morning coffee. She tiptoes down the steps, holding her glittering heels in her hands as she attempts to quietly sneak out the front door.

  I feel kinda bad for the girl. It’s not like Luca and I weren’t doing the exact same thing she and Dante were doing for half the night last night. Well, strike that… she may not squeal like a pig like Amber did, but she’s not particularly quiet. I know for a fact, she and Dante were doing some kinky shit, because I have ears and sound carries in this house. I just hope Bianca slept with earplugs, because both of her sons were acting like feral animals last night.

  At least Luca kept his growling to a minimum as he tore through my clothing. He was rather pleased to see that all I wore under the elegant gown was a gold chain, something he insisted I continue to wear while we made love. After a couple rounds of grinding our bodies together in lustful abandon, I made good on my promise attached to the gaudy beads that Luca draped around my neck.

  I glance up at Luca as I remember the saltiness of his release dribbling down my chin as he came in my mouth. The memory is a stark contrast to the sweetness of the latte I’m currently enjoying with my feet propped in Luca’s lap. He gives me an inquisitive smile and rubs his hand up my bare legs. He’s eyeing the short shorts that I slept in last night along with his button down shirt that I’ve only managed to button enough to cover my breasts. I shrug at him and motion haphazardly toward the staircase. “I wonder if she knows that the third step sque—?”

  I’m not able to finish my sentence as the pretty redhead hits the third step up from the floor which sounds off in a sharp squeak, catching the attention of several guards that are stationed around the bottom floor. Luca chuckles, and she glances up in the direction of the kitchen, a surprised look on her face as she freezes in place. “She does now.”

  Shaking my head, I point at Luca. “You should fix that step. She almost made it out of here without having to do the walk of shame.”

  Luca shrugs, a playful smirk on his face. “Why? I don’t have anyone sneaking out of my room, trying to hide her shame for getting naked in a Barresi bed. Everyone in this house knows I’m fucking you, so nobody is surprised to see you come out of my room in a half-dressed state…”

  Luca smirks at me. It’s almost a cruel smile that hints at his devilish side. He calls out to the girl, “Hey, the third step squeaks… so does my brother if you play with his balls. Or so I’ve heard through the grapevine.”

  My eyes widen in alarm as the girl’s face goes from startled to mortified. Without a word, she bolts for the front door, letting it slam shut behind her. Minutes later, Dante wanders downstairs, skillfully missing the squeaky step. He’s barely wearing a pair of low-slung joggers, and he looks to be pretty satisfied. The first thing I notice is that he’s not wearing his splint again, and I use no discretion in pointing it out.

  “Dante… you’re supposed to be wearing your splint during any strenuous activity. You look like that poor girl rode you half the night.”

  He shrugs, grinning a devilish smile that reaches his eyes, causing them to crinkle at the corners. “She did. We put those long legs to good use.”

  I frown at him, pointing my finger at my opened mouth like I’m going to throw up. “Didn’t need details, man. You could’ve at least warned her about the squeaky step. She seemed rather embarrassed that Luca and I were privy to her walk of shame.”

  Dante bounces a shoulder as he walks past me, bumping me with his hip hard enough that if Luca didn’t have hold of my legs, I may have toppled out of the chair. “She knew what she was getting into when she agreed to fuck me.”

  I wag my finger at him in disappointment. “If I remember correctly, you told me the deal was for you to be her date in exchange for the purse.”

  Dante looks at me across the kitchen island as he pours himself a coffee, his green eyes shining. “Did you see her? You think I was going to let an opportunity like that get away? Fuck, her legs were so long that I could—”

  I make a disgusted sound as I pull my legs out of Luca’s lap and stand up, brushing past Dante as I make my way to the sink. I set my coffee cup down and turn around to look at Dante. “Just because Luca isn’t screwing everything with breasts that breathes… doesn’t mean you need to pick up his slack. I assure you, Dante… the city of New Orleans will survive without a Barresi boy deflowering all of her women.”

  Dante scrunches his nose up. “First of all, I’m no boy. Second of all, she wanted it as much as I did. Have you seen all this? I didn’t deflower her. I just lapped up the sweet nectar that she offered. Besides, we have a history. She knows what she was getting herself into.”

  I walk up to Dante and put my hand over his mouth. “That’s enough. I don’t need to or want to know what you did with her last night.”

  He smirks and licks my hand. I snatch it away with a grossed-out look on my face. “I can only assume where that’s been…”

  He chuckles as I wipe my hand on Luca’s shirt. I frown at Dante as his grin just gets wider and wider. “Don’t act like you and my brother weren’t making good on a little promise made on that balcony. With the way you two danced at that ball last night, I’d be shocked if anyone in New Orleans doesn’t know the two of you are fucking.”

  Rolling my eyes, I put both hands against his naked torso and shove him backwards. He stumbles back away from me with a scowl. I point my finger at him. “Just warn the next poor, unfortunate soul that you bring home that the step squeaks. She’s already got to face the music that she let you put your dick everywhere… Don’t make her face public shaming too when she’s trying to sneak out unnoticed. At least that one had a mask to hide her face...”

  Dante catches himself on the kitchen island before he stumbles on his ass. He points right back at me. “Luca, I’m going to n
eed to borrow your woman today.”

  Luca scoffs and shakes his head fervently. “You’re not borrowing my woman for any of your needs.”

  Dante rolls his eyes and waves Luca off. “I don’t need her for that kind of thing, trust me. She’s cute, but you’ve licked her. Plus, I have no interest in invoking your wrath. I prefer my limbs… all five of them, to remain attached to my body, and I know how vengeful you can be. I just need her to accompany me on an errand today.”

  Luca narrows his eyes at Dante and nods. “I don’t own her. You need to ask her, but remember that I keep a rusty, dull knife in my bedside table, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  I blink as I stare at Luca incredulously. Wagging my finger at him, I shudder as I realize I’m nagging. “You’re not using a knife, in any condition, on anyone to protect me or my honor. But, yes. I’ll go with Dante on whatever errand he’s insisting on running on Ash Wednesday.”

  Luca nods, lowering his voice, “Momma wants us to go to Mass tonight. You don’t have to come. I’m sure she’d understand, but if you wanted to…”

  I smile and scoot around the counter, dropping myself into Luca’s arms. He responds by wrapping them tightly around me and sliding his hands underneath the shirt and onto my bare back. His voice is gruff as he adds, “You’d have to wear something a little more appropriate though.”

  I laugh in his arms and shake my head. “You never cease to amaze me in stating the obvious. I have plenty of appropriate things to wear. My worry is what exactly happens now that Mardi Gras is over? Do you observe Lent?”

  Luca shrugs haphazardly and leans back from me to study my face seriously. “My siblings and I are rather lazy Catholics, but I suspect with Momma now living here, we’ll be expected to observe the traditions.”

  I smirk and stand on my tiptoes, then whisper loudly enough for Dante to hear as well, “I think the two of you should give up sex for Lent.”

  Luca makes a strangled noise as he tries not to cough, shaking his head wildly. “You think I can abstain from sex with you for forty days? I would end up being a homicidal lunatic by the end of it and would be a shell of the man you know.”

  I narrow my eyes at him and shake my head as I laugh. “You realize it’s impossible for me to tell if you’re kidding or not.”

  Luca nods. “Good, let’s not test the theory. I actually intend to give up meat. It makes it easier to observe the fasting rules of today and Fridays.”

  I look at him expectantly and he elaborates, “Today, we’re supposed to only eat one full meal and a couple partial meals and no meat. Then we can’t eat meat on Fridays until after Easter.”

  Nodding slowly, I sigh, “I guess I can give up meat with you. I can eat macaroni and cheese though, right?”

  Both Luca and Dante chuckle, and Dante nods with a roll of his eyes. “How else would we survive it? We’re big guys who require a lot of calories. Without the protein of meat, we eat enough cheese to feed a small village for a year… and beans. We eat a lot of beans. It gets a bit stinky around here during Lent.”

  Despite the horrifying thought that skates through my mind, I nod in agreement. “On that note, you said you had an errand to run? Let me go shower and put on clothes that actually belong to me, and I’ll be happy to go with you. Luca said he had some things to take care of at work and I’ve learned not to ask questions.”

  An hour later, Dante is driving Luca’s Mercedes through the streets of New Orleans, and he’s yet to give me any indication of where we’re going or what we’re doing. I’m hoping that it’s a simple errand and that I’m not underdressed. The temperature dipped into the mid-forties overnight and despite it being early afternoon, it’s not recovered above that. It’s downright chilly for someone used to the Southern humidity and blistering temperatures as early as March. By this time of year, it’s usually already shorts weather.

  Instead, I’m clad in a fleece-lined pair of leggings, oversize flowy tunic, and a hoodie. My hair is braided down each side of my head in a style more befitting a third-grader than a grown woman, but I’m not worried about what people think of me. It’s highly unlikely than anyone of consequence would even recognize me, despite being in Dante’s company.

  Without a face full of makeup, expertly coiffed hairstyle, and Royce’s enchanting creations, I don’t really stand out in a crowd. I know I’m not ugly, but my regular look isn’t all that special. The combination of bright blue eyes and flaxen hair against my tanned skin can be a bit disarming sometimes. I did receive good fortune in the genetic lottery. My mother was a native islander and aside from her hazel eyes, she was brown from head to toe - hair and skin alike.

  My father was quite the opposite, and they made an unusual pair, but their oddity is one of my favorite memories. He stood a foot taller than her petite frame and his hair was even lighter than mine. His eyes were the color of the sky on a cloudless day. They were like night and day.

  Somehow, I received a startling combination of honey-colored skin, dark blonde hair that lightens in the sun, and my father’s clear blue eyes. A feature I’ve disguised today behind a pair of obnoxiously neon sunglasses that sit perched on the end of my nose just above the one place on my face where freckles dot my otherwise singularly-toned skin.

  Dante puts the car into park and looks over at me expectantly. I sit up in my seat, pulling my bare feet off the dashboard with a glance over at him. I frown momentarily when I realize where he’s parked, and I instantly shake my head. “Dante, I have no desire to go anywhere near there…”

  Shrugging, he opens his door and reaches into the backseat to grab a leather jacket before stepping out of the car. He pokes his head back in the window and offers me a sympathetic smile, “You can stay here if you want, but I might be a while, and you’re going to freeze. You don’t have any fat on you to keep you warm. I’d hate for my brother to go postal on me because I let his girlfriend freeze to death.”

  Grumbling, I shove my feet into my sneakers and cross my arms, giving him a dirty look. “Give me one good reason I should come with you onto Bourbon Street.”

  Dante chuckles, “I just gave you two, but if you must have another... If you come with me, you can see me cry like a little girl, since seeing me in pain seems to entertain you.”

  I lift one eyebrow and eye him curiously. Then I huff heavily. “Fine. But you owe me a favor, and when the time comes that I ask for you to pay up, you’d better not flake out on me.”

  Dante rolls his eyes and thrusts his left hand into the car, which I shake as I narrow my eyes at him. His are bright green, and he grins as I agree. “Now get moving. It’s cold as a witch’s tit out here and we gotta walk a couple blocks to get where we’re going.”

  I climb out of the car and pull the strings on my hoodie to tighten it around my face. Grumbling, I scoot around the car until I’m standing at Dante’s side. “As long as we’re not going… there…”

  Dante shakes his head quickly, his jovial expression darkening. “God no, Emily. I would never ask you to face that place. I’m an asshole, but even I know better than that. I may give you shit and tease you relentlessly, but I actually care about you. A lot. You’re like a little sister that actually likes me most of the time.

  “You might not love what I do, but you accept it. I wish I could say the same for Noemi. She literally stays cooped up in that room and avoids Luca and I at all costs. I don’t know if she knows it was me who pulled the trigger, but she acts like she knows. She certainly hates me enough that she must know.”

  I stop in my tracks as Dante’s voice cracks slightly. The pain emanating from him is visceral, and it cuts straight through me. Despite the horror that’s emblazoned in my memory from that day, I can’t even begin to imagine what his memories must be like. He’s the one who pulled the trigger and despite it being a direct order from his father to do it, Dante hasn’t forgiven himself for being the one who ended his father’s life. He very rarely brings it up, and in the month since his father’s death, he’s
never spoken of it to me.

  Dante stops walking along the sidewalk and turns to look back at me. I’m silently thanking the fashion gods that I wore sunglasses to hide the puffiness and redness that signals I’m empathizing with him right now. He stares at me in complete silence for a moment before I close the distance between us and hug him tightly, my arms squeezing his torso so hard that he coughs out of surprise.

  Despite my heart thundering in my chest, I don’t pull away from him. Instead, I keep my small body pressed against his. The warmth that he’s radiating feels amazing and so do the endorphins that course through my body at the intimate contact. It’s not the kind of hug that makes me want to jump his bones. If there was a physical attraction between us once, that ship has sailed. No, this is different. This is a release of pent-up emotions that neither of us has dealt with, and I suspect that he’s feeling something similar as his own arms envelop me in his embrace.

 

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