Fantasy in Lingerie: Lingerie #6 Page 11

  She’d never told me about the beginning of their relationship, but now I knew he’d rescued her from Bones’s father. Bones claimed my father took my mother for his own revenge. I didn’t want to believe it because my father was such a good man, it was hard to imagine him doing anything other than worshiping the ground my mother walked on. “Then what did you think?”

  “I thought…we would go our separate ways eventually. He wasn’t my type. He was dark, cold, insufferable at times… He wouldn’t open up to me, no matter how many times I asked him to. Our physical relationship deepened over the course of a year, but he did his best to keep his emotions out of the situation. In that amount of time, I’d come to accept your father for what he was—and even love him for it. It took him a while to reciprocate, but once it happened, the rest of our lives have been exactly the same. Our bond is strong, our loyalty to one another is stronger. I love him more now than I did when I met him thirty years ago.”

  It sounded so similar to my relationship with Bones that my hand shook a little.

  “What I’m trying to say is, when we’re young, we imagine our future husband. He’s always a knight in shining armor. He’s always on a white horse. He’s always Prince Charming. So when we meet a man who doesn’t fit that description, we assume he’s wrong for us. But there are good men out there, even if they don’t seem that way at first. Sometimes it takes a while to see the goodness underneath. I’ve learned that love is about accepting your partner and loving him not in spite his flaws, but because of them.”

  “I don’t love him,” I blurted. I said it so harshly that I didn’t recognize my own voice. I gnashed my teeth together, wanting those words to sound as true as possible. My connection to him was based on physical lust and intimacy. I only saved his life because I hoped he was a better man than he seemed. I could never love a man who despised my family, who despised the people I loved most in this world.

  She stared at me with the same expression my father sometimes wore, like she could see right through me. It was a ghostly expression, pregnant with supernatural powers. “If you want him to believe that, don’t show him that painting.”

  6

  Bones

  Five days came and went, and I didn’t hear from Vanessa.

  I watched her tracker almost constantly, but she never deviated from two locations—her childhood home and the winery.

  The last time we spoke, there was a hint of finality to the conversation. She said goodbye to me, like she wanted it to be the last time she ever saw me. I brushed it off and walked away.

  She’d call.

  Right now, she felt comfortable with her parents. But the second she was back home, I would be the first person she called. She wanted to push me away, but we were both too invested in this.

  Our relationship was obviously different now, and I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. I wasn’t even sure what we were anymore. She was a free woman now. I had absolutely no power over her.

  And I’d put the war on hold—for her.

  So where did that leave us?

  I was a man with needs, and if she wasn’t fulfilling those needs, I would go elsewhere. She wasn’t calling me either. If she was going to drop me like that, I would do the same thing to her.

  I went out that night, hitting up a bar with Max.

  He sat beside me at the bar in a long-sleeved black t-shirt. His third bottled beer sat in front of him, right next to the coaster but never on it. “Any trouble from Joe’s men?”

  I hadn’t even thought about it. “Haven’t heard a peep.”

  “From what I can tell, they’re restructuring the organization. Doesn’t seem like too many men care that he’s gone.”

  I was sure no one cared that he was gone.

  “Good thing you were quick on your feet and killed all those guys. Looks like you got exactly what you wanted even though they came to kill you.” He watched the TV as he drank his beer.

  I’d never told him what really happened. “Actually, I didn’t kill them.”

  “Then who did?” He turned back to me, his eyebrow raised.

  “Vanessa.”

  “Vanessa?” he blurted, the name not sounding right as it rolled off his tongue.

  “Yeah. I was on my knees and cuffed, and she came into the room with my shotgun and killed the four men. She let me have Joe.”

  Dumbfounded, he just stared at me. “So, let me get this straight. You’re keeping that woman as a prisoner, threatening her family, and she kills the men who are about to kill you? If she’d just done nothing, you’d disappear.”

  “I know.” I would never forget what she did for me. Not only did she save my life, but she gave me my revenge. The last thing I wanted to do was let her go, but I thought that was a fair way to repay her. Now she would never have to look over her shoulder and be afraid of me. Instead of plotting to kill her, I would always protect her. That was my way of repaying the debt.

  “Am I the only one who thinks that’s crazy?”

  “It is crazy. I’m surprised she did it.”

  He drank his beer then wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm. “Looks like that woman doesn’t hate you, after all…”

  “She hates me now.”

  “Why?”

  “I told her I wouldn’t kill her or hurt her, out of respect for what she did to me. But I wouldn’t drop the blood war…”

  “Dude, she saved your life.”

  “And I promised I would never take hers. That’s fair.”

  “But if she’d let you die, her family would be safe.”

  I drank my beer, regretting the fact that I didn’t order something stronger. “Her mistake, not mine.”

  He chuckled then faced forward again. “You’re such an asshole.”

  “I’ve never deceived her. It was her decision to save me. She didn’t have to.”

  “Man…that woman has it bad for you.”

  “Bad for me?” I asked.

  “She saved you because she’s hung up on you. No other explanation.”

  The sex was hot and the chemistry was explosive, but that’s all it was. She knew she wouldn’t find a better man than me. If she killed me, every man who came after me wouldn’t compare. She would always be unsatisfied—and she’d have to finish the job herself. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “We haven’t spoken in almost a week. Once I granted her freedom, she’s wanted nothing to do with me. She’s in Tuscany right now with her family.”

  “The family you’re going to kill?”

  I nodded.

  “Then why are they still alive right now? You just finished one vendetta. What about the other?”

  I stared at the TV without really paying attention to it. “I told her I would reconsider my decision, and I wouldn’t do anything in the meantime.”

  “Decision?” he asked. “To kill her family?”

  I was ashamed to say the answer out loud. “Yes.”

  Max grinned like a boy who’d just started summer break.

  “What?”

  “Don’t ‘what’ me. You fucking pussy.”

  “Excuse me?” I demanded.

  “You’re just as into her as she is into you. It’s so obvious. She doesn’t kill you even when she should, and now you’ve let her go and won’t hurt her family. It’s so obvious that I don’t understand how it’s not obvious to you.”

  “I like fucking her—but that’s it.”

  “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  “I’m serious. Vanessa is just—”

  “What’s the shame in loving a woman? Come on, it’s a great feeling. You find that woman you can’t live without, and you enjoy her. That’s not pussy shit. Pussy shit is not admitting to it.”

  I held his gaze, my heart thudding in my chest. “I don’t love her.”

  “Then what is this?”

  “I don’t know. But I know I don’t love her. I don’t give a shit how beautiful she is or how much I
enjoy plowing between her legs. I’ll never love the daughter of the man who ruined my life. I’ll never stop despising her for having everything I should have had. I respect her, but that’s the extent of my feelings. So shut the fuck up and drop it.”

  He raised both hands in surrender. “Alright, man.”

  I drank my beer again, my blood boiling at the ridiculous insinuation. A man like me didn’t know love. The closest I’d ever come to it was the way I felt about my mother. I was too young to remember her vividly, but I knew how it felt to be loved by someone—even if it didn’t last long. I loved her in return, which was why I murdered the man who threw her in a dumpster. But I’d never come close to feeling anything in the stratosphere of romantic love. My life was about money, killing, and fucking.

  That’s it.

  A brunette approached me at the bar, a pretty woman who would normally floor me. Long hair, a nice bust, and legs that stretched for days, she was perfect. And she had a beer in her hand, which she set right in front of me. “I was going to have the bartender send you a beer, but I wanted to bring it myself—because I definitely want to buy you a drink.” Confident, she smiled at me like a woman who understood her self-worth. She wasn’t shy or coy; she was just the way Vanessa was. After being with Vanessa, I’d come to realize I had a type.

  I liked a strong and confident woman.

  “I’m Elise.” She extended her hand.

  I shook it. “B.”

  “B?” she asked.

  “Yeah. It’s easier to remember that way.”

  She kept up her smile. “I hope you aren’t involved with anyone, because I’d like to be involved with you.”

  Forward and aggressive, she was a little too much. “No, I’m not. You’re a very beautiful woman and I appreciate the drink, but now isn’t the best time for me.” I turned her down right away without really thinking about what I was doing. I was horny as fuck and tired of sleeping alone, but my brain registered her as off-limits.

  “That’s too bad.” She took the rejection with dignity. “Hopefully, the timing is better next time.” She drifted away and returned to her friends in a booth.

  I drank her beer even though I’d been craving something strong since my first bottle.

  Max stared at me.

  I felt his stare and let it continue until it couldn’t be ignored. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Then why do you keep staring at me?”

  “Because you’ve lost your mind.”

  I set down my beer and turned to him.

  “What was wrong with her?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “And you shot her down.”

  “So? I don’t fuck everything that moves.”

  “Bullshit. Yes, you do.”

  “She wasn’t my type. Too aggressive.”

  Max laughed out loud like I’d made a ridiculous joke.

  “What?” I asked, dead serious.

  “You only said no because of Vanessa. Let’s not bullshit here. You only want her, and by definition, that means you love the woman. Because a man is only monogamous if he’s in love with his lady.”

  “I’m not in love with her,” I repeated, saying it with more conviction than before.

  “You just said you haven’t gotten laid all week. Vanessa is five hours away. You could be fucking that woman right now, but you’re sitting here talking to me. If Vanessa really means nothing to you, then walk over there and prove me wrong.”

  I took a long drink of my beer before I got off the stool. “Fine, asshole.” I left my money on the table to pay for my drinks before I walked away. I moved to her table and looked down at her. “Looks like I have some free time, after all.”

  She smiled then scooted over. “Great. Now you can buy me a drink.”

  The bar closed, so we were forced to leave and move to the parking lot. Patches of snow were everywhere, and an intense chill was in the air. She was wrapped in a sweater, and I was in my leather jacket.

  “So…you want to come over?” She hooked her arm through mine. “My apartment is close by.”

  I’d spent the evening talking to her while she ran her hand up my thigh. She got dangerously close to my dick, telling me I was going to score when the night was over. It didn’t get me hard the way Vanessa did. All Vanessa had to do was tuck her hair behind her ear, and I was harder than a rock. “Sure.”

  She grabbed my hand and scribbled the address on my palm. “Just in case we get lost.”

  I walked her to her car, feeling the dread sink further and further into my chest. Deep down inside, I knew I didn’t want this. I was only trying to prove something, to Max as well as myself.

  The sex would be mediocre—at least for me. I wouldn’t want to sleep over, so I’d have to leave in the middle of the night. And what if Vanessa called me? She probably wouldn’t, but I didn’t want to miss her call if she did. Even if this woman were lying beside me, I would still answer.

  That was how much I wanted to talk to her.

  And I would think about Vanessa the entire time I was with this woman.

  Because Vanessa had covered my body in more scars than my tattoos did.

  I only wanted her.

  Tonight wouldn’t prove anything. It was just a tedious task I was doing because I wanted to make myself feel better, to pretend that Vanessa didn’t mean a damn thing to me.

  She didn’t mean anything to me. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t want just her.

  “I just remembered I have to be somewhere.”

  “It’s two in the morning…” She raised an eyebrow. “Where do you have to be?”

  I had to be alone in my bed, my hand wrapped around my length to the thought of the woman I despised. “I’m married.” It was a lie, but it was the easiest way to get out of this situation with the least amount of talking.

  Her eyes flared in disgust. Then she slapped me across the face—hard.

  It didn’t feel good the way Vanessa’s slaps did.

  “You’re a pig.”

  “Yeah,” I said indifferently. “I know.”

  She got into her car and drove away.

  I went home alone, getting into my big empty bed. I was eager for sex, eager for Vanessa’s kisses. I wanted her nails to claw my back until she drew blood. I missed her screams as they ruptured my eardrums.

  So I would just have to wait until she came back.

  I knew she would call me. It was only a matter of time.

  7

  Vanessa

  The week came to an end, and while I enjoyed spending so much time with my parents, I knew it was time for me to leave. If I stayed any longer, it would seem like I was hiding from something.

  Or someone.

  Mom was already hot on my trail. She knew my relationship with Bones wasn’t something that could be easily swept under the rug. She didn’t ask any more questions about it or make any more comments, but that wouldn’t last forever.

  She would bring it up again.

  My father knew I had been on a date with someone that night, but he never mentioned it to me.

  Thankfully.

  I could talk to my mother about boys because we’d always had an open relationship. She acknowledged I was a woman when I turned eighteen. My father had never been that way. I couldn’t take a boy to a school dance unless my father drove us, chaperoned the dance, and then drove us back.

  I didn’t mind his protectiveness because I knew he was just being a good parent. But as I got older, he remained the brooding and terrifying father figure every daughter hated. It wasn’t until I moved away to school that he finally backed off.

  So I really didn’t want to talk about my romantic life with him.

  Unless it was introducing him to the man I would marry.

  Bones wasn’t that man. And if he were, that would be an even bigger problem.

  So my father would never ask about the man I was having dinner with. The less he knew, the better. He would live
longer for it.

  And if he knew what was really going on…I didn’t even want to imagine.

  I said goodbye to them next to my car, letting them both hold me for a long time. Mom was always sad when I left, and I could feel it in the way she squeezed me. Her hand stroked my hair, and she kissed my temple. “Come back soon.”

  “I will. I need to make more paintings to sell since they did so well.”

  Mom pulled away and smiled. “At this rate, you’ll have your own gallery very soon.”

  I turned to my father next. “Bye, Father.”

  He hugged me tighter than my mother, both of his arms circling around my back as he rested his chin on my head. He held me that way for a long time, his hand rubbing my back. “Tesoro…call me if you need anything.”

  “I know, Daddy.”

  He kissed my forehead. “I love you more than anything.”

  “I know that too…”

  He finally released me, an emotional look in his eyes. My father was always proud and stern around anyone who wasn’t family, but when it was just us, he was vulnerable and affectionate. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and he loved me so fearlessly. It was something he only showed to other Barsettis.

  “And I love you.”

  He opened the driver’s side door. “Drive safe, alright?”

  “Okay.” I gave them a quick wave before I got into the car. I pulled out of the roundabout and watched them stand in the rearview mirror as I drove away. My father wrapped his arm around my mother’s waist and pulled her close to him. They watched me drive away, sadness in both of their eyes.

  I got onto the main road and was relieved I couldn’t see them anymore. When I moved to Milan, I craved the freedom and independence. I loved living in a big city. But now that I’d been on my own for a few years, I knew the only place I wanted to be was there in Tuscany. I wanted to live close to my parents so I could see them every day. I wanted to have that closeness I used to have growing up, when all the Barsettis were together. Carter and Conway were both in Milan, but maybe they’d reconsider moving once they settled down.