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“What is it?” Dante shouts as he starts to zip up his pants.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Boss, but Joey is here,” comes the voice from the other side.
His brow furrows into a deep frown. “Joey?”
“Yes, Boss.”
He sighs softly. “I’ll be right out.”
He’s still frowning as he fastens his belt.
“Who is Joey?” I ask as I slip off the desk and straighten my dress, fixing my torn panties as best I can.
“You’re about to find out,” he says, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
I follow him out of his study and along the hallway, anxious to discover who Joey is. From Dante’s reaction and the fact that he was disturbed twice about this man’s arrival, he is obviously someone of some importance or influence.
But when we get to the entrance hallway, it’s empty. Dante doesn’t seem bothered though, and he heads off in the direction of the kitchen, with me close behind him. Guests are never allowed to roam the house freely, which means Joey is not a guest.
When we step into the kitchen a few seconds later, the first thing I notice is possibly the longest pair of legs I have ever seen in my life. A young woman, probably in her early-twenties although she could pass for younger or older, sits at the kitchen table, her feet resting on the table top as she stares at us.
“Guiseppina, what are you doing home?” Dante asks with sigh, but there is a hint of a smile on his face.
He’s happy to see her. Who is this woman with the perfect pouty pink lips and legs that would make a super model jealous?
“You know I hate that name,” she replies with a dramatic eye roll as she flicks her long dark hair over her shoulders. Then she stares at him, her face full of defiance and an air of arrogance in the way she holds herself. She knows exactly how beautiful she is. I bet people have been telling her that every single day of her life.
“What are you doing here, Joey? I thought you were staying with Lorenzo and Anya?”
Something about what he just said unsettles her, if only for the briefest second. Pain flashes in her eyes before she pushes herself up and strides over to him with a wide smile. “I thought you might be missing me, big brother.”
Big brother? He has a sister? I’ve heard plenty about the Moretti brothers in my neighborhood, but never about a sister.
“Of course I do. But Lorenzo told me you were spending the summer in Italy once you finished school?” Dante replies.
“Hmm.”
“Is everything okay?” he asks, a deep frown on his face again, and suddenly I feel like an intruder. It feels like they’re having a conversation that is loaded with meaning, even though they’re barely saying anything.
“Things were getting a little…difficult,” she says before closing her eyes for a second. When she opens them again, they are wet with unshed tears. “And I thought I might as well come home. Trade one prison for another, right? At least this one has decent WIFI.”
A prison?
If he is bothered at all by what she just said, Dante doesn’t show it. Instead, he wraps his arms around her and kisses the top of her head. She’s a few inches taller than me, but she’s still dwarfed by his six-foot-four frame.
She rests her head on his shoulder, and I see a glimpse of vulnerability from this young woman who calls her home a prison. He says something to her in Italian and she nods her head. I don’t know what he said, but I suspect they were some words of comfort given the tone of his voice and the soft smile that plays on her lips. But the moment passes quickly and she pulls back from him and glares at me, her dark eyes narrowed as she looks me up and down.
“And you are?” she asks, her tone dripping with disdain.
I glare back at her. It’s not like I chose to be here.
“This is Kat. She’s staying here for a while,” Dante says, but his tone is cold and distant. There is none of the warmth that he had when he was speaking to Joey. None of the fire that was there when we were in his study just a few moments ago. He doesn’t even look at me.
“Kat?” she says, her nose wrinkled in what I can only describe as disgust. Then she links her arm through her brother’s. “Come on and help me unpack and I’ll tell you about my summer.”
“Sure,” he says, but he’s distant, even with her now. He’s in this kitchen with us, but his mind is elsewhere. Still, the two of them walk out of the room without giving me a second glance.
I stand rooted to the spot and watch them leave, with Dante’s cum dripping out of me and feeling more worthless than I ever have in my entire life, well except for…No, don’t go there now, Kat!
