I dial Irene’s number.
"Irene McPherson."
"Irene, it’s Sera," I begin as I walk out onto the terrace, stopping at the railing to look out over the ocean.
"Serafina Manzini. How the hell are you?"
"Good, good. I just got the go ahead for part-time modeling, more sit-down if you have it?" I bite my lip then stop myself. I’ve been around Lucy too much lately.
"I heard about what happened. I’m very sorry."
"Thanks, Irene."
She grunts. That’s the end of the pleasantries with Irene.
"I’ve got a shampoo ad, makeup, bras—"
"I’ll take ‘em," I interrupt.
Irene snickers. "One job at a time there, pretty girl. Shampoo and makeup are probably your best options right now as they’re right here in L.A. There’s a clothing ad in Jamaica but that’s more standing than sitting."
"I’d rather skip the tropics, at least for another week or so."
"Sounds good. I’ll email the details."
"Excellent," I say excitedly. I can’t wait to finally have something to do.
"Want me to fax the contracts or courier them over?"
"Courier is easiest. I’m staying at Cage’s—"
"I’d like to think of it as ours." His deep voice slides over me.
"Busted," Irene laughs. "I know the address. They’ll be there in the morning."
"Thanks Irene."
"Good luck." With that, she hangs up, leaving me to my own devices.
Cage walks up, wrapping his arms around me from behind and kissing the top of my head. "I thought you had two more weeks before you could work?"
I nod. "I did. But I’m losing my mind, Cage," I tell him, turning to see his handsome face. "I need to do something besides read, talk, shop, talk, and talk some more. I’m so sick of talking."
Cage chuckles. "I wondered how long it would take to break you."
"Well apparently four weeks is my limit. I called Dr. Brickner’s office and she cleared me for part-time work, sitting if it’s offered, and there’s one shampoo ad and another one for makeup, and in a couple weeks I should be ready to go back to full-time status at my six week mark and we can get back out on tour."
"Mhmm. We’ll be going back out a few weeks after your six week mark. It’s going to be risky. All that exposure, but I’ve got enough security lined up—reliable security—that we shouldn’t have any issues this time," he tells me as a finger traces my lips, his eyes following the movement.
My breath catches as I think about some very much wanted sex with this hot man, whose finger I’m now nibbling on.
"Fee," he whispers, his eyes going dark with lust.
"Cage," I whisper back.
He licks his lip and tugs gently on my bottom one with his index finger. "We have to wait."
"Nuh-uh," I tell him, taking his hand and leading him into our bedroom.
"Nuh-uh?" he asks, confused.
I let go of his hand and head toward the bedroom door. I turn the lock and it audibly clicks. I turn around and grin. I suck at seduction but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s already taking his jacket off.
"I talked with Dr. B today, remember?"
He nods, reaching up for his tie. I kick my shoes off and stand in front of him. Even at my five-feet ten-inch frame this man dwarfs me. God how I love that. I reach up and begin unbuttoning his shirt.
"Well, she said some women are comfortable," I pause and slip another button through the hole, then look up at him beneath my eyelashes, "having sex after four weeks. It’s recommended four to six, same with work." I unbutton another button, and another, and another. "It depends on the woman and how invasive the surgery was."
He lets out a grunt, reaching his right hand to undo his left wrist cufflink. The man is sexy and classy and trying so hard to remain in control.
"So," I say, lifting my top over my head and throwing it on the pile of his clothes.
"So," he says with the raise of a brow as he eases his shirt off of his shoulders and places it on top of mine. My mouth goes dry and I fight the urge to bite his chest.
"We can," my breath falters when he reaches for the button on my pants.
"We can..."
"Uh, we can experiment and see—" A soft moan slips past my lips when his fingers rub over me as he unzips my pants. "—and see what’s comfortable and what’s not."
He nods, bending to pull my pants down, holding out an arm for me to steady myself as I step out of each pant leg. He picks them up and sets them on top of his shirt. Then he reaches for his belt, slowly unbuckling it, sliding it through the loops. Instead of setting that on the settee with the rest of the clothes at the end of the bed, he places it on the bed.
"Oh boy," I whisper and he winks at me. He toes off his loafers, and unzips his pants at the same time. Efficient. I help ease his pants down, picking them up off the floor when he steps out of them, leaving him in his black silk boxers and me in my black and red polka dot bra and panties.
He reaches forward and runs a finger over my now-healed scar, tracing the short length of puckered flesh. He meets my gaze, his finger still there. I know what he’s thinking—it’s reflected in his eyes. He’s thinking about how I nearly died and I need him not to.
So I pull out the big guns. I nearly snort at that analogy as I unhook my bra, letting the straps sag, but not removing it. He needs to do this. I need to know he wants me still. So I wait. It barely takes a minute before the straps are sliding down my arms and my bra hits the floor.
"You’re so damn beautiful, Fee," he tells me, taking a step closer to me, then scooping me up into his arms and carrying me to the bed. He uses one arm to hold me—hello hot biceps—and uses the other to pull the comforter back. He places me on the bed gently, reverently, as if he’s afraid I’m going to break.
"Cage."
"What is it?"
"I won’t break. If anything hurts at all, I promise you, the first twinge, I’ll tell you," I tell him, meeting his serious gaze with one of my own.
He nods. "I have a serious hunger for you, Fee, and I’m afraid I’ll lose control and hurt you."
Oh wow. Holy smokes. That’s quite the admission. "You’d never hurt me and you always keep your control."
"Not with you."
I shrug. "You’ve never hurt me before."
"And I never will."
"I know."
He slides onto the bed next to me and presses his lips to mine, then wastes no time before pushing his tongue forward to play with mine. I let out a soft moan. Just the feel of his mouth, his tongue, his hands... It drives me crazy.
"I need you, Cage. This first time, can we skip all the foreplay and just go for it?" I ask.
His breath hitches and he smirks. "We can. But I need to know something first."
I rest my palm against his bearded cheek. "What is it?"
"Before, when we were together," he begins and I nod, "you were on birth control." He says it like it’s a fact and it’s a good thing or else I’d have kneed a fucker in the balls.
"I was—am still. Remember when I got that horrible sinus infection?"
He nods.
"Well, I didn’t realize that antibiotics had the same effect on the shot as they do on the pill. Color me uneducated."
He nods again, eyes showing the dawning of understanding. "Are we okay or do we need condoms?"
"We’re okay. I made sure to ask that too. And I haven’t had a period since the surgery so we’re doubly safe as Aunt Flo should be coming to visit soon," I tell him with a sigh.
"I really don’t like when she visits," he deadpans and I let out a laugh.
"Neither do I, baby, neither do I. Now, will you make love to me?" I ask, needing the tenderness and comfort and love from this incredible man.
"You never have to ask, Fee."
Our hands are frantic and everywhere at once, touching, exploring while our tongues duel and caress. I reach down to remove his boxers, but he beats me
to it and in the next minute my panties are removed as well.
"I think you need to be on top, Fee. I’m heavy and I’ll press on your incision."
I nod and he rolls to his back. I waste no time. I wrap my fingers around his hard cock and stroke him slowly, enjoying the feel of the hard flesh beneath the soft, silky surface. He stays my hand.
"Now I need you," he confesses and helps me on top of him. I straddle his hips and position him at my opening. His hand covers mine, and he slides his cock through my folds and up over my clit a couple times before he holds himself steady with one hand, and with the other hand anchored on my hip, encourages me to lower onto him.
My hands rest on his chest, our eyes locked onto each other as I raise and lower myself with my knees, slowly taking him inside me.
"You’re so big," I moan.
He smirks. "You say that every time."
"It’s the truth."
He shakes his head. "You’re just so tiny."
I snort. "I’m anything but."
"Trust me, Fee. Your pussy is wet and hot and it grips me so god damn tight, it’s all I can do not to pound into you until we’re both coming hard and fast."
"I’m not opposed to that," I tell him.
"Not just yet. Let’s give that a couple more weeks, but when it happens, Fee, I’m going to take you in ways I haven’t allowed myself."
"Now you’re talkin’," I tell him with a grin and then I moan when his cock fills me another inch, then another and another. I tip my head back when he’s finally buried all the way inside me. "God, that feels so incredible."
"Fee," his voice is hoarse with desire, "just looking at you, knowing my cock is filling you full, bringing you pleasure enough to have that look on your face, it’s all I can do not to come."
"Let’s not delay. I want to feel you come inside me, Cage. I miss feeling you inside me, loving me."
A hand lifts to my face. "I do, you know."
I close my eyes and increase the pace, then nod against his hand. "And I do you."
"Fee," he whispers and my eyes open and lock with his again, watching the pleasure change his expressions, feeling his hands tighten on my hips when I roll them in just the way I know he likes, the way that’s guaranteed to make us both come very soon."
"Be careful, love."
"It doesn’t hurt. I promise," I moan louder. His hips lift slightly off the bed as I push mine down. "Oh yes, just like that."
He continues to thrust into me from below, and as I move faster, so does he.
"You’re so deep... I can’t..."
"Let go."
"Not yet. I want you to come with me."
"The minute your pussy pulses around my dick, baby, I’m going to join you. Come for me, Fee."
I roll my hips faster, slamming down harder onto him, and on the third thrust, I’m flying. Flying high, soaring above the clouds as pleasure flows through my body. I chant his name like a litany and he lets out the sexiest groan I’ve ever heard and then I feel his hot cum pump inside me. It feels so good, too good, and I swear my orgasm goes on forever. He moans out my name repeatedly and I whisper his in return, our gazes never straying from each other’s, and when he stills beneath me, I lean forward onto his chest, holding him tightly.
I don’t know why I’m crying but I am.
"Did I hurt you?" Cage asks, worried.
I shake my head. "No. I don’t know why I’m crying."
"It’s okay, Fee. If you wouldn’t think I was a pussy, I think I might’ve shed a tear or two myself. That was... the deepest experience I’ve ever had. You showed me what you’ve tried so hard to hide."
I look up and meet his gaze.
"Thing is, I already knew. You tried to hide it, but you never could hide much from me."
I nod. "You, you’re a different story. I had no idea what you were thinking." I sniffle. "I didn’t think you wanted me after that night."
"I want you every second I’m alive and will continue to want you until my dying breath."
I smirk at him this time, touching the side of his mouth with my fingertip. "You’re awfully profound today."
"I need you to know. All of it—and to believe me when I say it."
I swallow, my stomach flip-flopping in a way only this man can deliver.
"I want you to know, since that night, it’s only ever been you," I confess, reminding him.
Cage nods but averts his eyes.
"Tell me."
"Let’s shower."
"No. Not before you tell me why you look guilty of something. What is it?" I ask, already afraid of the answer. I’ve never seen that look on his face before and I’m so scared of what it means.
"I thought you didn’t want anything more than friends—after that night."
I nod and slide off of his lap and onto my knees on the bed beside him. I have a feeling when he tells me whatever this is, the last place I’m going to want him is inside me.
He runs his hands through his hair and looks at me again. "I thought you might be fucking around with Kingston."
"What? What the fuck? That’s Lucy’s husband!" I shudder.
"No, no, Fee. Not Jesse."
Then it clicks. "Ben," I whisper and he nods. I bite back the expletives I’d love to let fly and just press my lips together, unable to hide the disappointment and hurt I know he sees on my face.
"We should shower," I say softly, still trying to think this through. Yeah, we’d flirted, but Cage of all people knows that I don’t just fuck around—not for a very long time. Yeah, I had a couple one-night stands when we first got out here, but—God.
"Fee," he pleads, reaching out for me.
I look at him over my shoulder, that wall he managed to crumble, is slowly being rebuilt now. "It’s no different than me thinking you were fucking Carina," I bite out. I reach for my robe on the chair in the corner. "But wait. It is different because you were fucking her."
"Sera."
I turn and look at him, my hand on the bathroom door. Maybe he didn’t realize I noticed earlier, but he didn’t deny nor confirm if he’d been screwing her. And now, once again, he didn’t deny it. He’s sitting at the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, frustration and regret evident. I look away and open the bathroom door, locking it behind me.
I blow out a calming breath. "Just breathe, just breathe," I whisper.
I take the quickest shower known to man and when I finish, Cage is nowhere to be found. I hurriedly dress and gather my things. I consider leaving the key behind, but I don’t. I just need some time to process this. I thought he knew me... I let him know me. Still he believed the worst.
Not surprising. After all, I am a Manzini.
Cage
She Is Love by Parachute
I’M ON MY THIRD GLASS of scotch when she slides onto the stool next to mine. I reflexively curl my lip in distaste and she laughs bitterly.
"My, my, such a disdainful look, Cage," Carina says smugly.
I don’t respond, just swirl the amber liquid in my glass before lifting it to my lips and swallowing it smoothly. The burn is welcome, the numbing even more so. I signal to the bartender and look to Carina.
"What do you want, Carina?" I make no effort to hide my impatience with her.
"Just offering up some company."
"I’ll pass."
"On just my company or in general?" she asks, trying at being seductive but failing miserably.
"When you walked up, did it look like I wanted anyone’s company?" I bite out.
She doesn’t answer.
"There’s your answer. Leave Carina. Now," I warn, lifting the new drink placed in front of me and taking a drink.
"Where’s your pet tonight?" she asks, trying my already thoroughly worn patience with her.
"I suggest you move along before the lion eats you alive," Giovanni interrupts.
Carina goes to reply but he cuts her off once more.
"Save your slutty innuendoes for someone who apprecia
tes them. And," he says, stepping dangerously close to her, "I’ll remind you, the young woman you call Cage’s ‘pet’ is my granddaughter and if I hear you utter one more unsavory word about her, I’ll cut your tongue out, tape your mouth shut, and leave you to choke to death on your own blood."
Carina pales and I smirk inwardly.
"Do you understand?" he asks, his tone hard.
She nods.
"I didn’t hear you."
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
The woman is an idiot who is testing the wrong man. Giovanni Russo is one man you just don’t fuck with—neither am I, but we both need her alive for a little while longer. Though, she doesn’t know that.
"Yes, I understand," she answers shakily.
Giovanni sighs. "Cage, do you hear the respect I deserve? I certainly do not."
"No, sir, I don’t." My reply causes her to flinch, like a slap in the face. I smirk.
"Shall we try again, Ms. Tipton?" Giovanni asks, right up in her face now. His expression is hard and unforgiving.
"Yes, sir. I understand," Carina responds meekly.
Giovanni nods. "You know you aren’t welcome in Ernesto’s. Whose dick did you suck to get in here?"
Snickers fill the room and Carina’s face reddens with what I know is rage, not shame. A woman like her has no shame. She doesn’t answer.
Giovanni grunts. "Get out. Stay out of places you don’t belong, Carina, or you’ll find the consequences of overstepping your bounds to be very, very unpleasant."
"Yes, sir." She nods and quickly leaves, the men in the club chuckling as she scampers away like a rat with its tail between its legs.
"Carlo," Giovanni begins, "if you’d please remove this stool. One never knows what that nasty cunt has left behind."
"Yes, sir."
"You, Carlo, need not call me sir unless we are in formal situations. You, I know, respect me and my position." Giovanni slides onto the new stool that’s replaced the one Carina sat on.
"We need to keep it calm for a little while longer, Gio. She’ll begin to suspect if we continue to treat her harshly," I warn.
He nods. "I will not tolerate insolence from anyone nor will I stand by while she disrespects my granddaughter." He takes a drink of his scotch. "Pet, indeed. Serafina would chew her up and spit her out."