Ruthless

by Deborah Bladon

  “Perfect.” I roll onto my back and tug her on top of me. “Like this. Ride me.”

  “Yes,” she purrs, placing her hands in the center of my chest for leverage.

  She crawls onto my body, straddling my stomach. The slickness of her pussy sets my hands on her waist.

  “Slide back.” I push her back. “I need to be inside of you.”

  Circling her hand around the base of my dick, she lowers herself slowly over the swollen head. I clench my teeth when her wet heat clasps around me, and when she takes all of me, I throw my head back on the bed.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” she chants with each slide of her body over mine.

  I take control, gripping her hips to set the rhythm as I spear up into her over and over until I feel her clench around me before I come with an intensity that tears right through me.

  ***

  I stand in the hallway and listen to Bella on the phone. I don’t know a word of Italian, but I’ve got enough of a grasp of English to piece together what she’s saying.

  She was up and out of bed when her phone rang for the third time.

  That was after we’d fucked twice. Dusk has settled over Manhattan now, so I thought I’d figure out what to feed my beautiful executive assistant. I think she’s got that covered.

  She’s talking to her grandmother. I’ve heard her mention bruschetta and manicotti. I’m hopeful that we’ll be dining on both within the hour.

  “I’ll be there, grandma.” She sighs. “I’ll come early to help with the food.”

  I walk into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, listening intently to her side of the conversation.

  “Mom and dad are coming.” She glances over her shoulder when she hears me open the cupboard door. “Gina has a work thing tomorrow, but Max will be there. He’ll want to come early too so he can help clean the squid for the calamari. You know it’s his favorite job in the kitchen.”

  She laughs in response to whatever her grandma says. A flurry of Italian words follow before she takes a breath.

  “Tell Alfie I’ll meet him in the lobby in thirty minutes,” she says before pausing for a beat. “I love you too. See you tomorrow.”

  Ending the call, she drops her phone on the couch. “I’ll need to get dressed before the food comes.”

  Approaching with the glass of water in my hand for, I nod. “I don’t want Alfie seeing you in just your panties and bra.”

  Glancing down at her body, she laughs. “If I went anywhere looking like this, my grandma would lock me away for eternity.”

  Taking the glass from me, she swallows half of the water in one gulp. I wait for her to finish before I ask the obvious question. “What’s going on tomorrow?”

  Her gaze slides over my bare chest. I slipped on a pair of sweatpants before I left the bedroom. I would have been fine walking around with a naked ass, but I’ve yet to figure out how the hell to operate the blinds in this place.

  The penthouse is wired to a home hub that controls virtually everything. I don’t have the patience to sit down and program the thing.

  “Tomorrow?” She tilts her head. “Who said anything was going on tomorrow?”

  I hold back a smile. Isabella can’t play dumb. It doesn’t work for her. “What are you helping your grandmother with tomorrow?”

  She hands the glass back to me. “Calvetti Sunday lunch. Any Calvetti in the five boroughs has to be at the restaurant at one o’clock so we can eat a meal together.”

  I wait for her to ask me to tag along, but she just stands in that sexy-as-fuck lingerie looking like every dream I’ve ever had.

  She gazes down at her thumbnail before she starts rubbing at it. “My grandma started it forever ago. It happens every couple of months. She does it so she can see her children and grandchildren all in one place.”

  I’ve never met the family of any woman I’ve been involved with. Alyssa pushed for me to meet her parents, but I put it off until I broke things off between us. It’s different with Bella. I want in on this and if I have to invite myself, I will.

  “Does your last name have to be Calvetti to score an invite?”

  “No.” Her head shakes. “We don’t all have the same last names. There will be Calvettis there and Joneses. And two of my cousins are Dalens.”

  “What about Adler?” I scratch my chin. “Can an Adler come?”

  “You?” Both of her brows perk with the question.

  I’d go for a joke here about my dad not being the life of the party, but I want to be at the Calvetti family gathering, so I stick to the serious approach. “I’d like to come with you.”

  Her gaze narrows. “You want to meet my family?”

  “I do.”

  “There are a lot of us,” she says simply. “Some of my family is overbearing. Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?”

  “Positive.”

  Her face lights up with a smile. “Lunch is at one at the restaurant. We can meet there.”

  The manners Monica instilled in me kick in. “Should I bring anything?”

  “Peonies,” she answers without hesitation.

  I can handle picking up flowers on my way to Calvetti’s. “Done.”

  “Marti’s favorite is pink.” She claps her hands together. “She’ll love you forever if you bring her pink peonies.”

  It’s a step in the right direction. I have a feeling Marti’s approval means everything to Isabella, so I’ll do whatever it takes to earn it.

  Chapter 51

  Bella

  “You invited Hot Boss to meet the parents?” Max adjusts the hem of the dark blue sweater he’s wearing. Underneath is a white dress shirt. “How do I look?”

  I stand back to take him in. “You’re killing it today.”

  “If I knew we were inviting boyfriends I would have asked Dr. Dan to join us.”

  I’ve failed miserably in the best friend department lately. I’ve devoted so much time to my job and my boss, that I haven’t made time for Max. “Barrett kind of invited himself and he’s not my boyfriend.”

  I hold up a red jumpsuit. “What about this?”

  “Hard no.” Max gazes past me to my closet. “Do you still have that wine-colored wrap dress? You need that and your nude heels.”

  I never put this much thought into what I’ll wear to our family lunches, but today is different. Today my parents and Marti are going to meet the man I’m falling for.

  I twist around so I can rummage through my closet in search of that dress.

  “If he’s not your boyfriend, what is he?” Max asks from behind me.

  “My boss,” I say with a laugh.

  I glance over my shoulder to see him sorting through the long silver necklaces I tossed on my bed earlier.

  “You’re fucking him,” he points out with a grin. “That widens the scope of what he is to you. It puts him in at least the lover zone. If your heart is invested in this, he’s crossed over to the boyfriend zone.”

  Scratching my head, I turn my attention back to my overcrowded closet. “It’s somewhere between lover and boyfriend.”

  “He thinks he’s in the boyfriend zone.”

  I push my well-worn white robe over so I can peek in the back of my closet. “He doesn’t think that.”

  “Who is the last guy who asked to meet your family?”

  I spot a sliver of wine colored fabric. Leveraging my shoulder against the doorjamb, I tug on it hard. “No one has ever asked to meet my family. Emil didn’t want to.”

  “Emil was a jackass.” He laughs. “Your boss wants to meet your family because he’s your boyfriend, Bella.”

  I stumble when the dress finally comes free. “I’ve got it.”

  Max tosses me a wink. “You’ve got a hot dress and a boyfriend. Admit that you can see a future with this guy.”

  I can see forever when I look at Barrett. Giving a voice to that scares me. It feels too good to be true.

  “I admit that I can see having lunch with him,” I counter. “We can talk a
bout the future after Marti interrogates him.”

  “He’ll pass with flying colors.” He tosses a necklace at me. “Get ready, so we can go. I’m dying to see what your family thinks about boyfriend boss.”

  ***

  I stand and stare out the window of Calvetti’s. At least half of my extended family is already here. I’ve opened a few bottles of red wine, and more than a dozen cans of soda for those who don’t partake of alcohol.

  Marti always makes up a batch of her fruit punch for my younger cousins.

  The joyous laughter behind me fills me with a type of comfort I can only find with my family.

  They’ve always been there for me.

  I can’t remember a time when they weren’t.

  Every time I see my Uncle Robbie, he reminds me that I was bald until my first birthday. My cousin Arlo always mentions that he was responsible for my Halloween costume when was I four. It was a combination of a princess and a pirate.

  Cybil, my aunt, never tires of telling me about the time when Gina got hold of one of the red permanent markers Marti has always used to write on the brown paper take-out bags. My sister was eight at the time. I was five. I emerged from the kitchen of this restaurant with red cheeks, red eyelids, and a bright red nose.

  I don’t remember any of it.

  Marti tells me that’s because I’ve lived so much life since then that newer memories pushed out the old ones. Each memory I do have is a treasure to me.

  I turn and face the people who love me the most in the world.

  Soon my parents will arrive, and my grandma and then the man I’m falling in love with. This feels like a new beginning for me.

  “Izzy C,” my cousin, Luke Jones, approaches with a glass of water in his hand. “You look happy.”

  “I am happy,” I tell him. “I’m really happy.”

  He wraps an arm around my shoulder to tug me closer. “No one deserves it more than you. I can’t wait to meet whoever put that smile on your face.”

  “You don’t have to wait.” I look up into his blue eyes. “He’ll be here for lunch.”

  “He must be a brave man.” He laughs. “Facing this many Calvettis at once isn’t for the faint-hearted.”

  I scrub at the polish on my thumbnail. “Neither is running into burning buildings.”

  “I’m a fireman.” He taps his finger in the center of the black T-shirt covering his chest. “I put on the gear and get the job done. Your guy is about to meet grandma for the first time. No gear. No backup.”

  “I think he can handle it.”

  “You’re special to her, Bella.” He kisses my forehead. “To all of us. He better be good to you, or he’ll have to answer to Marti, and me, and every single person in this room.”

  My family is fiercely protective of me, but Barrett is too. I have a feeling that by the end of the afternoon, they’ll be just as crazy about him as I am.

  Chapter 52

  Barrett

  Just as I’m about to step into Calvetti’s my phone rings again. I glance down at the screen. It’s Monica. This is the third time she’s called since I left my place. I ignore the call yet again before I slide the phone back in the front pocket of my pants.

  I ditched the suit I was going to wear for gray pants and a black sweater. I don’t know the dress code for a Calvetti family gathering, so I went with cleaned up, yet comfortable.

  I glance through one of the windows at the front of the restaurant. There are at least sixty people inside. I know I want this, but damn if I’m not nervous as hell right now.

  Looking down at the peonies in my hand, I take a deep breath and pull open the door.

  The smells and sounds immediately strike me. The aroma of good Italian food wafts in the air. The voices in the room overpower a group of small children racing around with their sneakers squeaking against the tile floor.

  People are talking in Italian, others in English, but it’s the small group in the center of the room that I can’t take my eyes off of.

  Isabella is standing next to a man and a woman. The woman is her height. The man is taller. I watch their profiles as they carry on a conversation.

  They’re at least ten feet from where I am, and with the voices surrounding me, it would be impossible to hear them if they were speaking verbally to one another.

  But they are talking. They’re speaking in sign language.

  I stare at them knowing I should approach, but I hang back. I don’t move because I know they’re talking about me.

  Bella signs to both of them. I met him at a restaurant. I thought he was my date, but he wasn’t. I sat down at his table by mistake.

  How the fuck did I not realize that she knows sign language?

  The woman laughs loudly. It’s almost identical to Isabella’s laugh. Her voice quiets once she starts talking. I’m too far way to hear what she’s saying, but I can read the movements of her hands. And now he’s your boss?

  The man pats Bella’s arm softly. You like this man, my girl? He makes you happy?

  Bella’s face lights up in a smile. I think I love him, dad. I haven’t told him yet.

  My heart races in my chest. I felt it. I sensed that she loved me too.

  Her dad smiles back at her, his hands moving fluidly. He won’t know unless you tell him. Your mom told me she loved me first.

  The woman next to him turns her attention to Bella. I love you was the first sign your dad taught me. I think it was a hint about how he felt about me.

  Watching her mom’s hands, Bella laughs. Your love story is my favorite.

  Until now. Your love story will be one for the ages. Her dad signs before he kisses her forehead.

  Since no one has noticed me yet, I take a step to the side to give me more time to adjust to what I’m seeing. A woman to my left looks familiar to me. Her brown hair is cut short. Her eyes are bright blue.

  A man calls her Cybil, but I’ve never met a Cybil.

  Still, there’s something about her, and many of the faces in here that makes me feel like I know them.

  Suddenly, everyone parts and quiets down as an older woman emerges from the kitchen. Max, Bella’s friend, is on her heel.

  The woman wipes her hands on a white apron tied around her waist as she heads straight to Bella and her parents.

  “Dolly,” she calls out. “I need your help.”

  Dolly?

  I close my eyes against the memory of the last time I heard that name. It was the last time I heard that woman’s voice.

  When I look again, Bella is in the woman’s arms. “I’m coming, grandma. I was just telling mom and dad about him.”

  Him? Me.

  I’m the asshole who ran like a coward when I was fifteen-years-old. I left Bella’s grandmother in tears on her knees in the middle of a street on the Upper West Side.

  A rush of memories hits me. The sound of Martina Calvetti sobbing, the sight of blood, and the small motionless hand holding tightly to the stick of a red heart-shaped lollipop that was shattered into countless pieces on the street.

  What my father said to me that day and in the days that followed makes no sense. None of this makes any fucking sense.

  My phone starts up again in my pocket, sending glances my way. Bella and her mom turn to look, but not her dad.

  Bella’s face lights up like the goddamn Empire State Building when she sees me.

  I’m the man she loves.

  I’m also the jerk who didn’t stick around to help her when she was a kid.

  How the fuck is this happening?

  I silence my phone again as she approaches.

  “You’re here.” She stops just short of jumping in my arms.

  She’s so beautiful. Dammit, so fucking beautiful and so kind. After everything she’s been through she still sees the good in the world. She saw the good in me.

  “Are you alright?” I ask, my voice breaking.

  I’ve wanted to ask her that question for nineteen years. I’ve thought about her every single
fucking day for nineteen years.

  Her blue eyes scan my face. “Are you okay, Barrett?”

  My phone rings again. I shake my head.

  “Should you get that?” she asks, her hand jumping to my forearm.

  “It’s Monica,” I manage to say in a strangled tone.

  “Your mom?” She steps closer. “It might be important.”

  The volume in the room rises when people burst out in laughter. I hang my head, needing quiet and time. Quiet so I can think and I need time to tell Bella who I am and how I wish I could go back to that day.

  Moving past me, she pushes the handle on the door. “Let’s go outside for a minute.”

  I’m grateful. I follow her out, stepping to the side until we’re both out of viewing range of the people inside the restaurant.

  The ringing of my phone quiets but starts again almost immediately.

  Bella’s gaze drops to the screen. “It’s your mom again. I think you need to answer it.”

  It’s the last thing in the world I want to do, but I give in because it will give me an extra thirty seconds to think about how I will tell the woman I love that I hurt her.

  “Mother,” I spit into my phone. “What is it?”

  “Your father,” she says through a sob. “He’s in the hospital. It’s not good.”

  The fear and sorrow that should be flooding me finds no room because I’m too fucking confused and numb. I can’t feel anything but shame and regret right now.

  It serves me right. This is my punishment for what happened years ago. I fell in love with the person I hurt most in the world.

  Fuck you, fate.

  “What hospital?” I bark back.

  “Hospital?” Bella mumbles under her breath. “Your mom?”

  I shake my head.

  “Your dad?” she whispers.

  I nod before I’m treated to another wailing sob from my mother who is putting on a show worthy of a nomination for worst actress ever. She’s told me all too many times that she wished my father would drop dead. Today her wish may come true.