by Mia Madison
Shivers run up and down my spine. I'm not sure if he's exaggerating or not, but there's no hint of humor in his eyes. “I don't want you to kill Vic,” I say softly.
His mouth twitches. “I'm not gonna kill him. But it got me off my ass. If I can't stand the thought of another man, even one I love and respect, getting close to you, then it's not right for me to keep my distance.”
My teeth start to worry my lower lip, and his eyes go there and get a different kind of heat in them. “But my dad,” I say quickly before he can get distracted.
“Yeah. Your dad.” He's dead serious again. “We've worked together a long time. We respect each other. He's a vital part of my business.” His hand comes up, his fingers going through my hair. “I don't want to mess that up, babe, not if I can help it. I don't want to sneak around, either.”
My eyes get wide. “You want to tell my parents?”
“Not right away. I want us to have some time to get solid with each other. But then, yeah.”
Relief floods through me. No matter how badly I want him, I hate the idea of lying to my parents. “That makes sense,” I say.
“But before we get there, bella, I need to know you know what you're getting into.”
I need him to understand that nothing he says will discourage me. “I want you,” I tell him. “I always have.”
Tonio shifts me around until I'm straddling him, looking him right in the face. “I'm not an easy man to be with, babe.”
I know that must be true, and I don’t care, but if he wants to talk about it I will. “Because you work a lot?”
“I work a lot, yeah, but I'm pretty balanced at this point when it comes to having a life outside work. When I was younger, not so much. That's not what I mean.”
“What do you mean?” I say, a little impatiently.
“I mean most women can't handle me.”
It's a blunt statement, but it has multiple possible meanings. “Can't handle you how?” I say cautiously.
5
When Do We Start?
He scoots me closer until I'm half lying on him, my clit against his groin. I can feel his cock, hard and long, rubbing against me. “I'm bossy. I will listen to you and I will respect you, but I won't always let you have your way. And in the bedroom, I'm in charge.”
Muscles tighten low in my body. “I can deal with that,” I tell him. Honestly, I'm a little baffled. How could any woman mistake Antonio for anything but a bossy alpha male? And who wouldn't want all that take-charge sexiness in bed?
“We'll see,” Antonio says.
I frown. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means bossy is just the tip of the iceberg.” He hauls me against him until his mouth is at my ear. “It means I might want to fuck you with a hundred people in the next room after I spank your bare ass.”
My body convulses; my nipples go hard against his chest. “Oh. My. God,” I moan. Both his hands go to my ass and squeeze.
“It means I'm gonna tie you up when I fuck you, at least some of the time. It means I want to take you every way a man can be inside a woman.” He nips at my earlobe and I jerk against him. “You good with all that too?”
I lift my head so I can look him in the eye, and when I answer, my voice comes out all deep and throaty. “When do we start?”
He pulls me down for another kiss, and we almost get started right then. “How you feeling?” he says when we finally stop, looking at the bandages on my palms and knees. I peel one back and check the skin underneath.
“Not too bad,” I tell him. “Just a little sore.”
“We'll skip doggy style for now,” he says, and my heart skips a beat. “You working tonight?” I shake my head. “Get dressed, and I'll take you to dinner.”
I scramble off his lap, not only because I'm eager to be with him, but because I want us to get out of the house before my parents come home. Telling them soon is a good idea, but I don't want to have to explain about Antonio tonight.
He leads me out to his sexy little sports car, and before long we're out of the city and winding up into the foothills. We roll along wide, clean, peaceful streets with enormous houses, often hidden behind high fences or walls of greenery. The farther we go, the bigger the lot sizes get. Finally, we pull through a gate and go down a long, curving drive that comes to a stop in front of the most beautiful house I've ever seen.
It's not small, but it's not palatial either. What it is is exquisite. It seems to grow up out of its surroundings as if it had always been there. I see lots of wood, stone, and huge windows, with trees all around – old ones, making the house a stately jewel in a verdant crown.
Antonio's out of the car and around to my side by the time I get my seatbelt undone. Opening my door, he helps me out, then pulls me into his arms as if he hasn't seen me in weeks. He takes his time with the kiss, as if we were going to spend the rest of eternity doing nothing else. By the time he lifts his head my panties are soaked, my body soft and swollen, like a fruit that's ripened at his touch.
His eyes are half-lidded, and I know what he's thinking. Skip dinner and drag me off to bed. Or, hell, do me right here on the hood of my car. He won't get any arguments from me.
Instead, he lifts my hand and kisses the tips of my fingers. “Happy you're here, bella,” he says softly. “Come on inside.”
The house's interior is just as gorgeous as the outside. The rooms flow into each other in a way that seems natural, like the house is a part of the surrounding forest, just a part that happens to have walls and floors.
There's a two-story conservatory on one end with a tree right in the middle of it. Just before it is an enormous living room with the biggest flat-screen tv I've ever seen. To the other side of the front door is an equally enormous dining room with a table that looks like it could seat twenty people. Beyond that, in the back of the house, is the kitchen, and off the kitchen are a family room and stairs going up to the next level.
“It's beautiful,” I tell him. And it is. The one thing I notice is the complete lack of decoration. Part of that is all the windows, making nature itself the artwork in the rooms. But there are no photographs, no paintings, no sculpture.
I want to ask him why, but it feels like almost too personal a question. Which is a strange thing to think about the man I'll probably be doing everything imaginable with very soon.
“Glad you like it, bella.” His hand curls around the back of my neck and he pulls me gently against him. I get that warm glow again. “You hungry?”
As soon as he asks the question, I realize I am. I guess sleeping all day gives you an appetite. “Starving.”
“Good.” He kisses my hair and takes me by the hand. “Let's eat.”
His kitchen has enormous windows, like the rest of the house, but the equipment is professional-level. “Do you cook?” I ask him, admiring the double oven and six-burner stove. I'd rather eat food than cook it, myself, but a setting like this might inspire me.
“Sometimes,” he says. “I'm not always in the mood but when it strikes me, I like to be prepared.” He stops by the u-shaped bar that wraps around the enormous central island. “Have a seat and I'll make us something.”
“Okay.” I climb up onto one of the stools. “Let me know if I can help.”
“I got it, babe. Thanks.” He moves to the pantry, the refrigerator, the cupboards, taking out dishes and ingredients, and soon the room smells delicious. My stomach gurgles, and he grins at me.
“Sorry,” I say, embarrassed despite his obvious lack of concern. In answer, he brings over a bottle of wine and a glass. Setting the glass in front of me, he pours a small measure of wine in it.
“Just a little,” he tells me. “Don't want to get you drunk.”
“Why not?” I shoot back, feeling grown up and reckless at once.
In answer, Tonio takes my mouth in a searing kiss that leaves me gasping. “Taking the edge off your nerves is one thing, babe. Don't want to dull your responses, and there's gonna be a lot for
you to respond to.”
“Okay,” I say, all my inner muscles tightening around his words, the promise of them. “Whatever you say.”
He gets a gleam in his eye; his hands go to my waist and he lifts me from my stool and sets me down. One arm goes around me, and his mouth follows the line of my jaw to my neck, then nibbles down it. His hand slides under my dress and tugs my panties down and my dress up. He rubs my ass, then spanks it hard – once, twice, three times. The quick flashes of pain go through me like wildfire, my breasts swelling, my nipples hard against his chest, electric jolts shooting straight to my pussy.
“Tonio,” I moan. He sets his teeth in my shoulder, biting down, and I almost come. I press myself against him, wanting more. Needing all of him.
“Sweetest ass I ever saw in my life, babe,” he says, his mouth against the sensitive spot just behind my ear. “Gonna love fucking you with all that soft roundness cushioning us.” I shudder against him. “Fuck. Gotta get you fed, fast.”
“I can wait,” I gasp, suddenly not caring about food at all. The next thing I know, my dress is down around my waist. Antonio scoops one breast out of my bra and closes his mouth over it, making me cry out. He sucks me like a starving man, his hand still holding my dress up, his other hand returning to my ass, rubbing soft circles, then smacking me again.
“Tonio, please,” I beg. My hands go to his pants, and he doesn't stop me. I'm trembling with nerves, but I manage to undo his waistband and work the zipper carefully down over his bulge. Putting a hand inside his boxer briefs on either hip, I pull them out and down to free him.
God, he's beautiful. So thick and long and hard. I sink to my knees. Tonio says, “Cait.”
“Oh, please ...” I can't even finish the thought. I have to touch him, need to taste him. I wrap my hand around him as far as it will go, lean forward, and lick.
He swears and works his fingers through my hair, holding me gently as I explore. When I close my mouth over the tip of his cock, he bursts into a stream of Italian, his grip in my hair tightening until it hurts, but I don't care at all.
I try to take more of him in, and then he abruptly draws back, pulling free and tucking himself back into his clothes. “Did I do it wrong?” I ask in a small voice.
His eyes flash. “Hell, no,” he says, and then he pulls me to my feet and slings me over his shoulder in one smooth move. I let out a delighted shriek as he swings into the kitchen to turn off the stove.
The doorbell rings.
“What the fuck?” Antonio growls. He sets me down. “Stay here, babe,” he says, and strides off toward the front of the house. I hastily pull my dress back up and get myself tidied. Whoever it is, I can't imagine him letting them inside, but just in case I don't want to be standing here half naked.
Voices reach my ear. Lots of voices. Then Tonio reappears, his face like thunder, with a small crowd of people trailing him, carrying covered dishes. There's such a strong resemblance, I can tell at a glance that they're Adamos. Holy crap!
6
Popsicle Sculptures
Tonio comes to my side, takes my hand, and squeezes it – in apology or warning, I'm not sure – then turns to face the group. “Caitlin, these are my parents and my brothers and sisters. Everyone, this is Caitlin Miller.”
I'm frozen in place. Antonio's family is looking me over with zero effort at subtlety, and I know exactly what I must look like, with my kiss-swollen lips, mussed-up hair, and a hickey on my neck. They can't be in any doubt as to what they interrupted.
Tonio's mother sets her dish on the counter and comes forward. She's a small, round woman, and I would be amazed that she produced sons like Antonio and his brothers, except that they all look like their father.
She takes my hands and looks deep into my eyes, and all I can do is look back, hoping that her maternal radar isn't telling her how completely unsuitable I am. Plus, she's my grandparents' age, which forcibly reminds me of how young I am compared to Tonio. Probably not what they had in mind for their eldest son.
To my surprise, she gives me a smile that goes all the way to her eyes. “It's nice to meet you, Caitlin. I'm Lucia.”
It's easier than I expected to smile back. “Thank you. It's nice to meet you too.”
His father greets me next. “Alonzo,” he says. His handshake is firm but not too strong, and his eyes glitter with shrewd intelligence. I have no idea what he does for a living, but I wouldn't want to be his competitor.
While I'm saying hello to Antonio's brothers and sisters, the doorbell rings again. “I'll get it,” his brother Arlo says, and heads back out toward the front door. A few seconds later he's back, and another dozen people fill the kitchen.
It's an Adamo invasion. After I greet various aunts and uncles and cousins, the women take over the kitchen and shoo everyone else out – including me, which is a relief. I don't think I could handle being grilled by a bunch of Adamo women right now.
The men seem to know exactly where to go, and a few moments later I hear the sound of the tv. The kids invade the family room and start doing whatever kids do. Antonio takes my hand and leads me upstairs, where at least it's quiet. We go inside an office and he shuts the door.
“I have a big family,” he starts.
“I’d heard there are a lot of Adamos,” I say. “That’s quite a crowd.”
“That’s maybe one-fiftieth of the Adamo clan,” he says. “There are a ton of them, and they’re very nosy. Obviously, word got out about you and they were curious.”
I open my mouth, then close it again. “What?” he says, and I shake my head. “Tell me.”
“How did word get out?” I say. “We haven't even had a real date – and we only decided that there was an 'us' an hour ago!”
His eyes narrow; I'm pretty sure he knows that's not what I was thinking. But he doesn't call me on it. “I warned Victor off this morning,” he says drily. “Vic probably told one of the twins, who told one of their sisters, who are best friends with my sisters … they've probably been plotting this all day.”
I shake my head, and he takes my face in his hands. “Talk to me, babe. You want them gone, they're gone.”
My hands curl around his wrists. “Thank you.” His family is obviously important to him, and it gives me a funny feeling in my chest that he'd send them away for me. “But no, it's okay. They seem nice.”
His eyebrows go up. “Nice,” he repeats.
I frown. “Don't you like them? I mean, I know family can be annoying and everything, but … yeah. So far, they've been pretty nice.”
“Babe.” Antonio's mouth twitches. “Twenty people you've never met just invaded my house to check you out, and you think they're nice.”
“Well, what do you want me to say?” I throw my hands up. “They could have all given me the third degree, but they didn't. They just said hello and sent me off with you.”
His eyes get warm. “Means a lot to me, bella, that you're not freaking out right now. I'd like to show you just how much, but I'm not sure this house is soundproof.”
I giggle, and he pulls me close. The kiss is hot, hard, and thorough, and leaves me meltingly needy. I shiver and press into him. His head lowers again, and I don't think a house full of relatives is going to stop him this time.
“Hello!” a voice calls, followed by someone knocking on the door. I think it's one of his sisters. “Dinner's ready.”
Tonio closes his eyes. When they open again, they're hard, but there's a glint of humor in the steel. “Time to eat, babe.”
“Sounds like it,” I say. “But ... thanks for the appetizer.” I flash him a grin and turn to leave, but he snags my hand and pulls me back to him. “What?”
“You never told me what you were going to say, before.” I'd forgotten, but now the question I stifled is back in my mind. I quash it again, and he shakes his head. “You've got a look in your eye that I don't like. Out with it, bella.”
“They're waiting for us,” I remind him in a last-ditch evasion attempt.
He sees right through that. The steel in his eye gets stronger. “They're gonna sit there all damn night waiting if you don't tell me what's on your mind.”
“Tonio—”
“Cait.”
“Okay, fine.” I pull away from him, my arms automatically wrapping around my torso. His face darkens, but he doesn't stop me. “It's just – why would your family be curious about me?”
“What are you getting at?” he says quietly.
I can't meet his eyes. “You date a lot of women,” I say with a jerky shrug. “I'm just one more.”
The next moment I'm firmly up against Tonio's body again. “Look at me, babe.” I shake my head; his voice drops into the gravel zone. “Spankin' you when I'm getting' you off is one thing. You do not want to earn a punishment right before you try to sit your ass in a chair to eat. You get me?”
I get him. And apparently I'm a big perv, because that turns me on. A lot. I'm pretty sure he can't punish me without everyone in the house knowing it, though, and that I'm not ready for. So I look up, slowly, and meet his eyes.
His face is hard. “There are women I escort around in public to various events,” he says. “There are women I fuck. Sometimes these are the same women.”
I cringe, but he keeps talking. “What I don’t do is invite them to my home and cook for them. I don't introduce them to my family. And, babe – I do not get longtime customers banned from Revved on their behalf.”
Geez. I am such an idiot. “Oh,” I say, very softly.
“Yeah—oh. We good now?” I nod. “Good,” he says, and reaches beyond me to open the door. He turns me toward it and pats my ass as we leave. It feels like a preview of future events.
It turns out the enormous dining room table has leaves to make it even bigger, and it holds all of us. Tonio's parents sit at either end, and he and I are right in the middle on one side. Even with all these people, ranging in age from babies to octogenarians, there's plenty of food.