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FORTY-ONE
ANTHONY
I didn’t have to makean appointment to see Papa the next morning. He sent Vito to collect me. I lost track of how many times I fucked Becca last night. Fucked Sebastien. Watched them fuck. Watched Gian fuck her every which way possible.
I hoped I could form a sentence.
“I’m not going anywhere until I shower,” I said to Vito while I stood in my kitchen wearing a towel. I had so much cum on me, and I wasn’t sure whose it was.
Didn’t care. Last night was the greatest night of my life.
“You know your father doesn’t like to wait,” Vito said, sounding superior.
“He’s gonna have to wait. It’s a long drive.”
“I have a helicopter waiting to...” His words drifted off seeing Bastien walk down my floating stairs, bare-chested in a pair of slacks, holding his dress shirt. The guy showed up here yesterday in a suit.
“Car’s ready, sir,” Silas said to him, standing at the back door like a good fucking bodyguard. And not this asshole Vito up in my face. Who the fuck did he think he was?
“I’ll be out in a minute, Silas.” Bastien’s deep voice shot heat to my dick. That fucking knowing smirk of his killed me. “Coffee?” He slid his shirt across his shoulders, the tiny, healed slivers all over his chest on display.
Next, Becca came down in her white dress, pulling her hair back. “I have to get back to the city too.”
“It seems I have a helicopter waiting for me.” I yanked her against my chest. “Want a ride, angel? In the sky, that is. You rode our cocks enough.”
“Anthony!” Bastien sneered, looking at the guards waiting for us.
They were going to have to get used to this...
“No thanks, Anthony.” Becca sat on one of the stools to slide on a shoe. “There’s a reason I don’t travel in those. They’re fucking death traps. Is there coffee?”
“There’s me.” I bent down and kissed her, then she turned and kissed Bastien.
Vito gasped.
“You can wait outside,” I said to him, releasing her to Bastien’s arms.
“I have orders, Anthony,” Vito said, blushing, figuring out what the hell happened here last night. All night and this morning. “You know the old man.”
Yeah, I knew the old man. The frail, useless man who thought he ran our company. Vito only knew the man he used to be. I had to talk to Vito. Tell him it was time to retire. Then get out of this deal and figure out how to make Messina Associates flush with cash again. Maybe get in on Daria’s gambling operation. Say fuck it and open some real casinos. Domenico Holdings had enough political people in their pockets to put pressure on regulators for me.
The four of us working together, really together, would make us unstoppable. The bond we had was stronger than any bullshit tribunal.
“My car is here. Coffee. Now,” Becca said. God, she was so adorable when she was stressed.
“Becca, we need to go,” Vale said, strolling into my kitchen, his head held high, but not making eye contact with me.
We’d sent our bodyguards and limo drivers to a motel a few miles away with enough cash to get food and use a laundromat. Now they were all in my fucking kitchen.
Perhaps fucking our brains out till four a.m. wasn’t the wisest move. Now we’d get back to the city, half dazed.
Giancarlo jogged down the steps, sliding a black tee-shirt over his chest. “Is there coffee?”
“I’m not fucking Starbucks. There’s one down the road.” I grabbed Rebecca and kissed her again. “I’ll see you later.”
Rubbing my cock over the towel, she said, “I hope so.”
Idling in my driveway was her Town Car, Sebastien and Gian’s limo, and the taxi Vito grabbed from the Hamptons’ heliport.
Talk about inefficient, but I smiled, watching the three of them leave, everyone looking happy.
Vito cleared his throat.
“I’m taking a shower,” I sneered at him. “Wait the fuck outside.”
