by Amarie Avant
Jamie gives an ear shattering cat screech as his back hits the dresser drawers with me on top of him. Sandra and Grayson are at the door instantly, both staring at us in confusion.
“Are you two all right?” Sandra asks.
Grayson helps me up.
“Yes, just the woes of beauty.” Jamie mumbles scampering to his feet. “Your corset is adjusted perfectly, milady.”
I almost laugh outright as Grayson mumbles, “Corset? That’s the thing women once wore under their dress? Those contraptions are still being assembled?”
“Yup,” I nod. “Underneath the dress. Nowadays, corsets come with the ability to electrocute. Be a good boy and maybe you'll get to see it done.” Never.
The sky is a beautiful orange-purple for the evening. Tony’s home encompasses a vast amount of land, and Grayson has had to park a distance away, candles twinkle off in the distance. With the cliff overlooking the ocean and a romantic backdrop, it’s clear this family reunion will have a romantic, wedding-like flair to it. I sigh, for the thousandth time, thinking about how my mom married Tony in Vegas.
I’m gnawing on the inside of my lip, comfortable in my own silence when Grayson opens my car door.
“That friend of yours, he is very odd,” Grayson mumbles. He’s still dazed about Jamie and I as he holds out his hand.
“Well, that guy is one of my best friends and will walk me down the aisle one day so,” I take his hand.
“Hey,” his green eyes warm over with sentiment.
Oh, crap! Does he think I'm bitter about the engagement? I smile. Time to teach Grayson a lesson and wean myself off my current addiction.
21
Evan
I stand just inside of the large kitchen where caterers are zipping about. Every once in a while, one of the servers notices me before exiting the French doors and gives me a confused look as if to say I shouldn’t be out there.
There's a pianist stationed in the center of the veranda. Smoke is coming from the infinity pool. Three bartenders work an open bar which has been constructed around the outside stonewall kitchen. Servers circle the large area with silver trays of champagne, caviar and the likes. The tennis court off in the distance has white linen tables, flowers and glitzy shit are atop them making it the perfect wedding reception. My mouth is tensed. So, Tony wants a redo regarding his hasty marriage.
All of the Zaccaros have begun to mix and mingle with a few people I do not know, but can only assume are related to the Dunhams.
As a young Chinese guy starts by me with a silver tray of flutes, I take one and nod my thanks.
He gives the perplexed glance, before shrugging and stepping out.
Downing the champagne in one gulp, I watch the lovely Miss Dunham and her date. Since her dress stops at her knees and puffs out, I've imagined taking her from the back. I readjust my cock and continue to observe their mannerisms.
The Stiff doesn't appear to be new. It took me less than a second to decipher that the two have history. And after almost a minute I came to realize The Stiff is alternating from an endeavor to woo Reese back and an attempt to display a level of prestige. The arrogant dickhead is glued to her side too. Not for too much longer...
Smile cocky, I do believe it’s time to present myself and take what rightfully belongs to me.
“Valentino, mi amore! I've been looking for you, Caro,” My father’s oldest sister, Isadora, holds out her hands. Next to her is her daughter, Isabella, who has chosen a silk white-glove of a dress. But my aunt is dressed in black ruffles and lace, as if her ensemble should have been a testament of Tony’s disgrace for marrying without the family’s approval. I’ve seen aunt Isadora in similar attire when my dad married. Yet still, there’s a smile on her face. My observation is that she’s been persuaded by the pianist belting out a romantic tune in Italian, or God forbid Lolita has won her over.
Isadora stands at all of five-feet, but embraces me tightly as I near. I bestow kisses on her cheek.
“Zia, sei bellissima,” I tell my aunt just how beautiful she looks.
“Oh no, no,” Isadora's much too modest to believe in her own beauty, but her weathered, olive colored face reddens just a tad as she smiles.
I’m greeting Isabella with a kiss to the cheek when my aunt continues, “My little brother, his wife is very, very, very gorgeous. And her daughter! Valentino, we must introduce her to cousin Vinny.”
Isabella laughs softly in my ear. “Yes, ma is spot on. Vinny would be a lovely match for Reese.”
“Over my dead body,” I say, stepping back to glare in Isabella’s twinkling eyes. I turn a smile toward Isadora. My aunt has orchestrated at least a million matches and once was the town matchmaker in Cosenza, Italy when she and her twelve younger brothers and sisters were growing up. All of them save for Tony met and married their wives due to the luck granted by Isadora.
I’ve heard word that my father, who isn’t the youngest sibling by far, had been on her list for years, but was much too introverted back then. He had to be mid-fifties when he met and caught the attention of my younger mother, it took a while for Isadora, as head of the family, to visit from Cosenza. Although our entire family has ample businesses in Italy, and she had money and time at her disposal. Despite the fact that my mother had as much culture and a wealth of education, her PhD in world studies didn’t excuse the fact that she wasn’t a native Italian. Mom was a blonde who so happened to have a few drops of Sicilian blood and lived in New York.
I believe my mother was pregnant with me when Isadora made her first trip. Though my aunt treated me with the same love as her own, I might have been a few years old at the time my aunt felt obliged enough to grant her approval to my parents.
I rub Isadora’s cheek and say, “Oh no, cousin Vincenzo is family. They’re related now.”
Her soft, tiny wrinkled hand pats on top of my own. “Yes, yes. Vinny is only your second-cousin, Tino. It will work. Isabella, tell your cousin.” A woman not to be persuaded, she looks up at her daughter, who is almost an entire foot taller, and gives a quick nod for Isabella to stand in agreement.
“Yes, cousin Vinny would love Reese I'm sure.” Isabella winks, and then her voice lowers, since Isadora has to wear a hearing aid. “Don’t be such a brat. Ma truly is right, Vinny will love the sweet, little Reese. And trust me, my ma has tried to hock Reese off on one of my knucklehead brothers, but I reminded her how taboo this would be, given how close we all are with Uncle Tony. Therefore, Vinny wins by default.” Isabella looks me up and down, fully aware of the forbidden relationship. “On the other hand, brat, you might just be correct in that Vinny is not a good fit, seeing that Reese has herself a ten-thousand-dollar suit. How much is yours worth, a meager five-kay?”
“Oh yeah, okay,” I pat Isabella's shoulder as my aunt says, “Reese!”
I turn around and Reese and The Stiff are standing there.
Isadora takes Reese’s hands in hers. “I was just telling Tino, that you and Vinny would make a perfect couple.” My aunt, ever the touch-feely person she is, now clasps Reese's cheeks in her hands. Isadora has no qualms with making a love connection between someone who is betrothed to be married if she doesn't sense their connection, so she disregards Reese’s date.
“Oh, you'll have to introduce me to Vinny,” Reese smiles, humoring my senile aunt.
“Tino? Somebody’s cousin Vinny?” The Stiff says under his breath, “Who’s next, De Niro, Al Pacino?”
Reese rolls her eyes.
I grab his slender, soft hand, “I’m Tino. Valentino Evan Zaccaro.”
“I...” His voice comes out in a screech, hand shaking just slightly due to overactive nerves and how tight my grip is.
“Come again?” I lean in closer.
“Grayson. Daniel. Vandecamp,” he chokes each word out one at a time.
“So you're the chump dating my sister,” I say, head cocked just slightly.
He glances down at our hands. The tips of his fingers are blood-red, puffed and pulsa
ting. Then he gives me a pleading look. “Sort of.”
I let his hand go. Grayson mouths an obscenity. His limp hand is cradled against his three-piece-two-button-suit. But, I suppose it’s the Italian in me because I’m just as touchy and feely as Aunt Isadora. My hands latch onto his shoulders, fingers clamping down onto frailty.
“Sort of?” I inquire, head cocked just so, I stare him straight in the eye. “You don't strike me as a man who isn't full of… himself, Mr. Vandecamp. What is it, together or not?”
“Together. We... We're together.” His gaze shifts to plead with Reese for help, but my aunt can talk for days. She's rather convincing and I'm sure she'll need a couple days to get Reese interested in my no-good cousin Vincenzo.
While Isadora happily mentions that there’s a room with Reese’s name on it in her home, I let his shoulders go. He does one quick shoulder roll, thin lips set in a grimace.
My smile is carved in cement by now, “You'll be good to her?”
He slowly nods.
“If I go through all the motions of welcoming you to the family, and you have no intentions–”
“Evan, what are you two chatting about? Football?” Reese turns her attention to us. She glares at me, aware of the tension.
I nod for Grayson to answer.
“Ju... Just how much I love you, Reese.” Grayson barely gets the words out before clearing his throat. He teeter-totters in his leather shoes and this time does a double shoulder roll.
She gives him a sardonic stare. “Well, have fun, chatting,” she mumbles.
I think I see a fragmented smile on her face as she turns around and walks toward another set of family. Grayson doesn’t take her advice, nope, he runs along after her like one of those purebred pups.
I want to inquire why Reese isn't happy about Grayson verbally saying he loves her. I don’t believe I abused him into professing such words. When he’d claimed to love her, there was no shift in his gaze as usual. No other nonverbal cues to implicate he just said the words for show. What's going on with these two? Something tells me that Reese didn't cheat on The Stiff with me. Would she bring the douchebag if he’d cheated on her?
Of course, Reese is all mouth. The moment she advised that I should bring another date, I wanted to grab her by the ponytail, place her over my knee and give her ass a good thrashing. Yet to be accompanied by someone she detests is beyond me.
Before she can reach the next set of family, I stalk over to them. A set of my cousins who’d connected eyes with Reese, begins to step forward. They cease what seemed to be the beginning of a comical dialogue when I grab her arm. I issue an order in her mate’s direction. “Grayson, go get my sister something to drink.”
He eyes her and then me.
She nods. “Yes, a mojito would be nice.”
He sulks toward the open bar, and I invade the space between Reese and I. Not too close, but close enough to thwart any other person’s intentions to engage with us.
“What are you doing?” She says, smile stiff, eyes scanning the veranda.
“We need to talk.”
“Okay, shoot.” Reese bites her lip. And as if to take the edge off her guilt of being tied to her stepbrother, she adds, “Everyone is chatting.”
“Not here.” My mouth caresses her ear as I growl. And then I’ve grabbed her forearm, guiding her down to the second level of the veranda, there’s one more deck before the ground level of tennis courts.
The tartness has taken a nosedive as Reese murmurs, “Not a good idea.”
“Who’s The Stiff?”
“I'm sure Grayson made an effort to introduce himself with all of his accolades but then again you tried to break his entire hand then proceeded to massage his shoulders.”
I chuckle softly. “You noticed.”
“Hell yeah, I noticed,” she says, eyes continuing to rove around the place.
“You don't like him.”
“I assume that's not a question, Evan.”
“Yes, but by all means, correct me if my body language analysis can use some brushing up on.” I pull her into an alcove area which is shrouded by palm trees. The neckline of her dress leaves me begging for more, my fingertips graze across her chest. “Oh look, you've stepped away from The Stiff and in my presence, your heartbeat has increased.”
“Fuck yourself, Evan.” Reese slaps my hand away.
“No can do, this hand wasn't meant to pleasure me, Reese. It was meant to pleasure you, and only you, babe.” I reach out. She swats me like an irksome fly. But my hand grabs onto her breast. The gasp crashing through those just parted lips liquefies into a soft moan as I twirl Reese before me. Her dress flies up in the wind.
“Boyshorts,” I seethe, wanting to eye those gorgeous ass cheeks.
But her ass is perfect none the less, it slams back toward my already hardened cock. Now my mouth scours the sugary taste of her neck.
“Oh, looky here, Reese. You've got goosebumps. I must have that strong of an effect on you," I say snidely, kissing her shoulder. It's not that I want to come off as an asshole, and my emotions have never been toyed with until I set eyes on the lovely Miss Dunham. As my lips have their way with Reese's collarbone, she gasps.
“I want you so fucking bad, Evan.”
“That's exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“Hmmm, what would you have done if I denied you?” Her tone is salacious.
I bite her shoulder. She gasps. “You can be my bad girl when we get back to my place. No defying me, Reese.”
She frowns as I lean over and allows my hand to skim down her chest once more. My cock again thumps against her buttocks. Sure discipline is stopping me from ripping her dress to shreds.
“I’m going to tear this granny dress off your body, Reese,” I declare in her ear, “Then I’m going to spank your ass until it’s red…”
“Oh God, please don’t stop, Evan. Tell me what you’re gonna do to me,” she pants, licking her lips.
I push the flying wisps of hair from her face, and nudge a kiss onto her jaw since I can’t reach her lips from this position. “Those lips will be swollen, and I don’t mean because I’ve kissed you so hard, beautiful, I’m going to beat that beautiful, tight pussy of yours until you come all over my dick.”
“Sheeeee…” She can hardly breathe.
My hands begin to trek down this godawful dress of hers. “Jesus, I want to fuck you right here, Reese. Tell me I can fuck you right here, babe.”
Her voice is but a moan.
“Tell me, Reese,” I demand. “You’re aware that I do not need your permission, beautiful. I own you. I can have you right here, right now.”
Her ass molds against my cock, and her legs shake. Voice a hushed whisper, she says, “Please. Here… NNNOW!”
My fingers work their way against the silk of her panties. I push aside the material and my fingers spread her labia. My thumb courses against the nimble, tiny bud coaxing more juices when I know without a shred of doubt that her pussy is already my river.
“Evvvv… Evan, fuck me,” she groans.
My fingers plunge inside of her. “Soaking fucking wet, Reese. You are soaking wet for me.”
I take my other hand and begin to unbuckle my belt as she bounces on my three fingers.
“Evan, I’m gonna come, baby, it’s been so long since I came.”
“Shhh,” I mouth into her messy hair. I pull down my zipper, and begin to pull out my cock. “Come for big brother, come all you need to.”
She’s panting, my fingers are dripping wet, and my erection is damn near ready to burst. I’m just about to shift my cock inside of Reese but stop at the sound of footsteps.
Faster than a speeding bullet, Reese readjusts her panties, and zooms away from my grasp.
“What are you doing over here,” Grayson inquires, voice weighted with suspicion.
From my position around the corner, it seems like she’s trying to coax him back toward the party. “I needed a fresh breath of air. Please don't...�
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Teeth bared, I lean against the fucking wall. Pre-cum shining under the moonlight. “Fuck,” I mouth loudly. I have never experienced the term ‘blue balls,’ and to hell if I undergo such tragedy tonight.
Grayson’s voice is but a whine, “I thought you agreed with my apology, my love.”
“Grayson, do not call me that. Ever.”
Reese pauses, her chin brushes against her collarbone and then stays there, as if she’s stopped herself from glancing over her shoulder.
“Alright, Reese," his voice is dense with defeat.
My lips curve into a smile, as I delicately place my heavy-laden cock back into my pants. There must be something in the air, because his next statement is filled with a renewed confidence. "Very well, then I will win you back. You know, Reese, you never once said those words to me. I know you love me, and I have always loved you. We have very pertinent things to discuss, though, but one day you’ll be mine again.”
My jaw clenches. Out of respect for Reese, I stay poised against the stone wall instead of assuring Grayson that their past will never become their future. And what does he need to discuss with her?
While feeling the first pangs of jealousy since graduating from the eighth grade, reality slams into my chest. Grayson can make amends, he can turn her frown around, he can take her out and introduce her to associates, family, friends.
I can't.
We’re old enough for the stepbrother-stepsister dynamic not to be an issue. Shit, it could be means for a fun conversation over a beer and a chat with friends. But Reese isn’t having it. I know within my heart of hearts, that Reese will continue to fuck me. She has no choice. But telling her I am in love with her out in public would have her mortified. I lean my head back, and take a deep breath. Though Reese has been vague about her upbringing, I have determined her father was an asshole. Most likely abusive and probably created a hostile environment for herself and her mother. Hence her inability to tell that bitch, Grayson, that she loved him when they were hot and heavy.