One Shameless Night: An Enemies To Lovers Stand Alone Single Dad Romance (The West Sisters Novel Book 2)

by A. Hargrove

  “I love to feel you come against me. Your pussy squeezes my cock so hard.”

  His hoarse voice sent shivers racing all over me. When my climax died down, he pulled out, and I whimpered.

  “Don't worry, amore mio, there'll be more later. Much, much more.” Then his lips found mine and we were naked, on top of the bed, kissing like fools.

  The door swung open and Gabriele yelled, “Papa, why are you and Piper in bed?”

  Holy moly ravioli. I tried to hide under the covers, only we had never unmade the bed. Alessandro calmly got up and told him to go back out and close the door. That didn't work.

  “Are you sick?”

  “No, we are fine. Where is Louise?”

  “She had to bring us home because she got sick.”

  “Gabriele, please go to your room now.”

  He only stared at me. Or maybe it was my butt.

  “Okay. Will you come and get me?”

  “Yes.”

  He walked out and Alessandro closed the door behind him.

  “Oh, God,” I said, jumping to get dressed. “Now what?”

  He pushed his hands through his hair and said, “I don't know. He's so inquisitive he's bound to wonder.”

  “Maybe say I had a bad headache.”

  “And I was what? Fucking it out of you?”

  It hit me as funny and I laughed hysterically and couldn't stop.

  A houseful of air blew out of him and he pulled on his pants and then his shirt. “I'll go to him and come up with something.”

  “Please fill me in after because I'm a terrible liar.”

  He went to Gabriele's room and I went downstairs to finish the wine he'd poured me earlier. What a crazy mess? His son was the one person he'd protect over anything. I knew that much. What if it was bad enough he'd want me to move out? What if we'd screwed up so terribly that things couldn't be fixed. There was no denying that Gabriele wanted us to be together. He wanted a mother and a wife for his father. But Alessandro wanted neither. And what did I want? My wants counted too. Alessandro was a sure catch. But was I in love with him? I was certainly hooked on the sex we had. He was magnetic and compelling. After I'd gotten over his asshole ways, I found him to be fun and interesting. He was smart and knowledgeable--and not only about things regarding his degrees. He was well read and well rounded. And then there was the adorable son of his. I never imagined myself being a mother, but that child had penetrated my heart and to think about my life without him—I couldn't bear the thought. The truth was, if I wasn't in love with Alessandro, I was well on the way to being there. He may not be in the same universe I was and that was the chance I took when I moved in here. But then again, I was in danger. Funny how that part seemed to have slipped from my mind.

  I'd asked Emma about it and so far the creep was still in jail. But it was only by a thread they were able to keep him there. Any day I expected to hear he'd been released. That's when I would worry. For now, I was safe. Living with Alessandro helped too.

  Speak of the sexy devil, there he stood.

  “Well?”

  “He thinks we are getting married. One of the kids in school said if two grown-ups are in bed naked all the time, it means they are married or sick. I should've told him you were sick.”

  “Where did he come up with that?”

  “Like I said, one of the kids in school told him. My guess is his parents told him that. Maybe they don't have a lock on their door.”

  “That's pretty good, now that I think of it.”

  “Yes, but it doesn't help us any. And he's very persistent. You know already that he's wanted us to get married so he can have a mama and I can have a wife.” Alessandro flopped onto the couch next to me.

  “I think we go with the headache.”

  “Too late now. I should've said that in the beginning.”

  “Can we just say we were bad? And were playing show and tell?”

  A series of footsteps sounded and there he was.

  “Piper, when you're my mama, can I call you Mama?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Alessandro

  How was I going to prevent this train wreck? It was picking up speed and Gabriele had more determination in his eyes than I'd ever seen before.

  “Gabriele, you know what I said upstairs.”

  “But, Papa, I know she's going to be my mama. Why can't I ask her that?”

  Piper spoke out. “Squirt, come here a second.” He ran over to her. She was a magnet to him and, God knew, I understood.

  “Yeah?” His bright grin appeared.

  “Maybe one day that might happen, but for now, how about we stick with Piper?”

  “Well, okay, but...”

  “Hold up. I'm not saying it won't happen. All I'm saying is it might be years in the making.”

  “Years?” His grin turned upside down.

  “Sure. Grown-ups have to be certain about things. It's kind of hard to explain, but when you're a grown-up, you'll understand.”

  “But Arthur said his mama and Papa get naked all the time and it's because they're married.”

  “That's true but there can be other reasons too.” Then she tipped his chin back. “Is that a loose tooth I see in there?”

  “Yeah, see?” He took his fingers and wiggled it, showing her.

  “Wow. Will the tooth fairy visit?”

  “Huh?”

  What an amazing distraction this was.

  “The tooth fairy?”

  Gabriele turned my way and I shrugged.

  “Dang, I need to bring you two up to speed on the tooth fairy.” So she explained about how you left the tooth under your pillow and in return, the tooth fairy gave you money for it.

  “Ahh, we have Topolino, who brings a little gift.”

  “Kind of the same, then.”

  Gabriele's grin was huge. “Papa, can I have Topolino and the tooth fairy?”

  “I think you only get one. It’s either the tooth fairy or Topolino. You have to decide.”

  “Oh.”

  “Hey, you can't be greedy about this,” Piper said.

  “That's right. You have to be thankful you get a gift at all.”

  “Okaaaay.”

  “Hey, did you know Piper was done with school until after Christmas? How about we go out to dinner tonight?”

  “Yeah!” He clapped his hands and jumped around. Then up the steps he ran.

  “Where'd he go?” she asked.

  “I don't know.” I pulled her into my arms and kissed her. “Thanks for the distraction. It worked rather nicely.”

  “It did.”

  “Does Gabriele have a favorite football team?”

  “He loves them all.” I laughed at the thought. “One minute he loves one and the next another.”

  She rubbed my leg and then circled a finger on the top of my thigh. “I can't wait to leave for Italy. Two weeks. Right now it seems like forever.”

  “I agree. I only have one more set of orals to listen to and I'm done.”

  Gabriele showed back up with a drawing. It was a picture of Piper on her last day of school. But she looked to be about ten years old.

  “Thank you. It's perfect, Gabriele. I believe I need a hug from you.”

  That night at dinner, my son rambled on and on about what he wanted Babbo Natale to bring him.

  “What is Christmas like in Italy?” Piper asked.

  “Most of our gifts are exchanged on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and then the night between January fifth and sixth, we get the Befana, which is an old lady or a witch, who brings us small gifts if we are good.”

  “Or coal if we’re bad,” Gabriele said. “I’m always good so I don’t get coal. Right, Papa?”

  “Hmm. Usually. And where are these gifts left?”

  “In a big sock. I leave mine in the living room. So does Papa.”

  “That’s why I suggested you stay for two weeks. I should’ve done a better job of explaining that.”

  “Yes, because I w
ouldn’t want to miss getting more presents, would I?”

  “No!” Gabriele’s eyes were filled with excitement.

  “On Christmas Eve, we eat a nice dinner, open a few gifts, and then go to Midnight Mass in the nearby village. Gabriele usually sleeps through it though.”

  “No, Papa, I sing the songs.”

  “Yes, and you snore like a beast in between each of them.” I pinched him on the nose.

  “Papa, tell her about our presepe. Piper, wait until you see it!” He bounced in his seat.

  “Tell me! What is it?”

  He spread his arms from his knees to his head and said, “It's this big. And sits by our tree with lights on it.”

  I chuckled at his sketchy description. “It's the Nativity scene, which is a must in Italy. We take them very seriously.”

  “Oh. We have one at our house but it's not anywhere close to that large.”

  “It's the biggest one in the world, isn't it, Papa?”

  “No, Gabriele. You have to stop telling tall tales about it. We did purchase it in Napoli, where they are famous for them, and that's where you saw that enormous one. Remember?”

  He was much younger, and he got confused about it.

  “Maybe. But ours is big too, isn't it?”

  “It is. And it's beautiful.”

  “Nonna loves it, doesn't she?”

  “It's her very favorite of our decorations.”

  “I can't wait to see it.”

  The waiter delivered our food and as we ate, Gabriele continued to fill our ears with more about Italian Christmases. “And Nonna makes the best panettone, pandoro, and paneforte. Nonno makes strong drink called—Papa what is it?”

  “It's called bombardino, which is an orange rum punch. But he is also a fan of limoncello, so he makes sure to have that too. Homemade.”

  She oohed immediately. “I love limoncello. But you have to go slow with that stuff.”

  “Especially Papa's. It has a stronger kick than most.”

  “You two are making me so excited.”

  Gabriele dropped his fork in his excitement and it clattered on his plate, echoing throughout the quiet room.

  “Sorry.”

  “It was an accident. Don't worry,” Piper said.

  “How about you pay attention to your food and eat some.” I saw his plate was still full.

  “Okay, Papa.”

  I had finished my dinner and Piper was close to being done with hers.

  “I can't wait to show you around the grounds. It's a beautiful time of year to be there.”

  “Papa, can I drive the putter.”

  “Putter?”

  I pointed to his plate and said, “Eat.”

  Then I answered her. “We use gas-powered rangers on the vineyard and he calls them putters. He started doing that before his vocabulary was proficient. As for you, piccolino, you know the rules. You can steer as long as you're supervised by an adult who knows how to drive one too.”

  “Will you teach Piper so she knows?”

  “Eat. I'm not telling you again, or no driving at all.”

  He nodded and hurried with his dinner. He wolfed it down like nobody's business.

  “Can we get dessert?” he asked.

  “Sure, now that you've finished.”

  Piper ordered a coffee, I ordered espresso, and Gabriele ordered chocolate cake. He loved cake.

  When Gabriele took his last bite, he had chocolate all over his mouth.

  “Dude, you are a mess,” Piper said, reaching out with her finger to wipe off a smudge of chocolate. “This” —she held up her finger to show him— “is all over your face.” Taking his napkin, he cleaned off his face.

  He smiled and his teeth were still coated in the dark substance. Admittedly, it was cute as hell.

  And then it happened. “When we go back home, are you and Piper going to sleep naked together?”

  Piper spilled her coffee and I choked on mine.

  Chapter Thirty

  Piper

  Grumpy. That was me when I rolled out of bed. Not sleeping well was never a good thing. The cool shower I took didn't help either, nor did the mug of coffee Gabriele kindly handed to me when I came downstairs. He stared at me knowingly with his six-year-old adult eyes. The things that kid knew. He was not going to forget the incident. We had better get used to it. I shuddered to think when he mentioned it in front of my family. Alessandro's was bad enough, but having my father think of me as a slut was going to be awful.

  It was icy cold again today. This cold front that had enveloped England didn't want to give up. I walked to town with my coat drawn up and my hood on. I went as quickly as possible, staring at my booted feet. My hands were shoved into my pockets to keep them from turning into blocks of ice when my phone vibrated. I refused to answer it. It was in the back pocket of my too-thin jeans, and my hands didn't want to leave the warm nests they were in. Whoever it was, I would call back when I got to town. I had Christmas gifts to buy and not much time to accomplish that feat.

  My list was long and the worst part of it was I had to carry them home. Alessandro said he would pick me up if I could wait until after four. The prospect of a ride home was more appealing with each step I took.

  The twins were getting clothes. Sylvie mentioned they were growing like weeds. That meant they would need a lot of new clothes. Gabriele loved books and pictures so he was getting artist pads, lots of crayons, and several new books. Evan was getting a bottle of fancy scotch. Sylvie was getting a new cashmere robe. Reynolds was getting a tartan plaid robe like Sylvie's. Dad was getting something for golf. I just had to find it. And that left Alessandro and his family. I had no idea what to get the perfect man. And I didn't really know his family except for Antonio.

  Turning the final corner with only one long stretch to go, I counted the steps in my head. My eyes even stung from the bite of the cold and there were very few people out this morning. This was the time I missed having a car the most.

  I never heard it coming. All of a sudden, I was grabbed from behind, a cloth-covered hand pressed over my mouth, and I blacked out. Next thing I knew, I was being jolted around in the back of a van, bound and gagged, dizzy and nauseated. Blinking several times in an attempt to clear my vision, I had no luck. We must've hit a bump because my head slammed against the hard metal floor and it was lights out again.

  There was a voice in the distance. Someone was talking, but confusion rattled me. My eyelids were glued shut and a crushing pain centered on the back of my head. I had no idea where I was, but it didn’t appear to be the back of a van because we were no longer moving. Wherever I was, it was cold and the surface I was on was hard—maybe concrete.

  “Wake up, bitch.”

  The voice was close. I blinked but my eyes refused to open.

  Then I was brutally kicked in the gut. Air whooshed out, leaving me in a black void. I couldn't inhale. Everything shut down, only to blow up in tremendous agony all at once when I was able to breathe.

  A few minutes passed before he spoke again. “I said, wake up, bitch.” I knew the voice, but he'd dropped the American accent.

  “I'm awake,” I mumbled. “But I can't open my eyes.”

  He laughed, but not a funny haha one. It was sinister. Pinpricks of fear raced up and down my skin. I twisted my hands, but they were bound behind me.

  “Stupid bitch, you can't open your eyes because they're taped.”

  “Where am I? Who are you?”

  “Don't play dumb. You know fucking well who I am.”

  “I don't, I swear.”

  I must not have sounded convincing because he kicked me again and I screamed. At least this time I didn't get the air knocked out of me, but it hurt something awful. I pulled my knees to my chest for protection, but that opened my entire posterior up for game. A kick landed on my lower back and fire lit up inside me. Drawing a solid breath wasn't in the picture. It was sucking air through a straw.

  “Don't fucking lie to me. I want to know wh
at you told the police.”

  When I didn't respond, he kicked me again. This time I lost it. Everything turned black. Until a bucket of water woke me up.

  Grabbing a handful of hair, he jerked my head up, snarling, “I asked you a question.”

  “I...uh...told them you texted me.” It came out as a wheezy sentence.

  “You dumbass cunt. I know that.” Then he punched me in the side of the head, the same side he'd nailed me on before. I was sure he'd cracked my jaw. Blood pooled in my mouth and it streamed out when I opened it.

  “Wasn't much to tell,” I mumbled. I had to talk in order to stay alive. If he continued with this, I'd die.

  “You can do better than that.”

  “It's true. They wanted to know if we had sex. I said no.”

  “And that's about to change.”

  “Why? Why are you doing this?”

  He slapped me again. No, it wasn't a slap. It was a jab. “I'm the one asking the questions.”

  I was losing any ability to fight. Dizziness lingered behind from whatever drug he'd given me earlier. In pain from the kicks he'd doled out to me, I was doing my best to stay coherent. He dropped his hold on my hair and my head slammed on the ground, sending sharp currents of pain through me. Maybe my skull was fractured too.

  He paced and by the sound of his rapid and booming footsteps, he was not pleased. The whole police incident had infuriated him.

  “I want you to look at something.” He came over and ripped the tape off my eyes, which was like peeling off a layer of skin. Then he unzipped his pants and held his dick in his hand. Was he going to jack off in front of me? But then he lifted up his dick and cupped his balls for a second before he stood next to me. “I want you to take a good look at what you did to me.” My head was completely muddled, and I didn't follow for a moment until I got the bird's eye view of his slightly purple testicles. Was that left over from when I grabbed him? How long ago had that been? I couldn’t think straight to count. The corners of my mouth curved up.