Daddy's Kitten

Chapter 2

I was a son-of-a-b***h, no denying, but I’d never tell her that. It wasn’t my intention to introduce myself in her life, here in this small town store, where the tomatoes were sorry excuses for the real thing and there wasn’t a decent chianti to be found. Not a surveillance camera in the joint. The owners were just asking to be hit. It wasn’t the way the Dragos did business, but then, we had a lot more to lose than soup cans, chips, produce, meat and dairy.

I wouldn’t admit I already knew her name, learned it long ago at the Daily Grind, where I secretly paid for her coffee.

“So what will it be?” I asked, and she met my eyes, causing a shock to go through me. I had the urge to pick out a bouquet for her from the floral display, fill her cart with too many treasures and insist on paying at the check out area.

Jessica.

JessicaAs if I hadn’t uttered those syllables a million times like a filthy prayer, jacking myself to the thought of all the ways I wanted to praise her and make her mine.

I could run the fantasy scenes in my mind like a movie, so many times had I mentally played them out.

Jessica on her knees.

Jessica tied up, allowing me to have my way with her.

Jessica squeezing her tight, dripping p***y around my c**k.

There was a pensive shimmer in the shadow of her eyes as she considered my offer. But at least she wasn’t running away.

A good sign.

Already I heard the excuses I was going to tell myself about why I should insert myself in her life, even though I couldn’t trust my judgement around her.

I’d use her distressed state as a reason to finally spend time with her in person, even though I knew it wasn’t fair to her. What future was there for her with a man who could never make up for the terrible things he’d done? She’d hate me if she found out that the hands which carefully picked up the scattered tomatoes had squeezed the life out of more than one windpipe.

Up close her facial bones revealed themselves to be delicately carved, like Michelangelo’s Pietà, her mouth full. Surprise had siphoned the blood from her features, making her look even more as if she were cast in stone. I wanted to plant kisses on her shoulders, neck, and face until the glow of arousal painted her passion-pink.

Instead, she barely managed a tremulous smile when I set the tomatoes back where they belonged.

“I guess it won’t hurt to have lunch. He doesn’t need me to get back home after all.” Her voice seemed to come from a long way off, though she were standing right beside me.

“Him?” I heard my own voice, stifled and unnatural. My thoughts raced dangerously, and I muttered under my breath. “Who the hell is he?”

“Who the hell is he?”She quickly texted something into her phone, “My father. I…” stains of scarlet appeared on her cheeks and she swallowed hard.

A cashier called for a price check on the intercom, and she gasped, releasing a shiver of panic.

She forced herself to settle down.

Someone hurt her or scared her.

I’d find out who, and deliver that person a message they’d either obey or breathe their last.

Perhaps that person was here, strolling the frozen food aisles, standing in front of the deli cooler. I’d happily unsheathe my hidden knife and stab down and to leave them convulsing on the floor in front of shelves of smoked meats or a cooler case of convenience dinners.

Message being to citizens near and far, leave her alone, or else.

Message being to citizens near and far, leave her alone, or else.They were better off not knowing what that “else” was. Any fool in Briarville, hell, in all the county knew not to cross a Drago.

Doing so was more than dangerous. It was deadly.

Which is exactly why this sweet girl, who shuddered at shadows, confused the hell out of me.

She was afraid of something, but I wasn’t it.

One meal. Let me have just that, and then she could go on her way. It would be enough to sustain me.

Lunch with Jessica.

I’d tattoo the date on my chest.

“Let me hold your backpack. It looks heavy,” I said.

She squeezed it protectively to her chest. “That’s okay. I’m used to carrying it.” She looked away hastily, her eyes locked on the colorful mounds of fresh fruit, and began to sway restlessly.

Gently, I placed my hand at her elbow and told her, “As you wish.”

Softly, I shook my head, weighing the pros and cons of inserting myself in her life. There was no way I could be this sweet girl’s daddy. I was no good for her. She needed a safe, stand-up kind of guy, and I was everything opposite of that. Though no amount of good could ever balance the evil I’d done, I willed her to read my mind and my intention… Your daddy’s right here. He’ll protect you.

Your daddy’s right here. He’ll protect you.* * *

We were seated on the sunporch, fine by me. The flowery draped material overhead, was a touch my stepmother, Lucrezia, would refer to as ‘elegant’. The pink flowers and colorful lanterns paled compared to Jessica’s temptingly curved, rosy lips. The waitress set the complimentary breadbasket in front of me, and I slid it towards Jessica. I had my usual Earl Grey tea, and she ordered “Just water, please,” her eyes full of remoteness. My brother Enzo sucked down espresso like water, but I preferred tea, and pressed the warm coffee cup to my lips.

“Sure that’s all you want? It’s my treat.” An escaping blonde curl slid over her forehead, and I sat on my hands to keep my fingers from reaching out to lace her fingers with mine.

She tilted her head in a nod and gave a forced smile. “You don’t need to buy me lunch. I have money.”

We’ll see about that. When you’re with me, I pay. The owners were playing a nature soundtrack, and sounds of falling water, and croaking frogs wafted out of the restaurant speakers. It put me on edge.

We’ll see about that. When you’re with me, I pay. We ordered, and I visualized Jessica on my lap, wearing no panties, the silky caress of her thigh on mine, letting me feed her. Her eyes were docile and contemplative, and she asked me, “What are you thinking about?”

My giveaway cheeks heated to crimson, and I heard my Nonna say , “You’re a Sicilian through and through. You speak with your body.” Usually, she referred to my volcanic temperament, but in this case, I’d been caught out having filthy thoughts about the melting softness of Jessica’s body against mine, and it showed.

Divert.

Distract.

“Tell me your name.” It felt so good, my first command to her.

Even better when she peered at me intently and muttered hastily, as if quick to obey, “Jessica.”

Good girl. I praised her in my mind and noticed how her body was telling me with its every move that she was a girl who in her heart longed to be unafraid. But something, someone, prevented that.

Good girl. I bounced my knee under the table, fidgeting with my white linen napkin, smoothing, refolding, and straightening the cloth. I hadn’t been this jumpy since the Cartel paid a visit to the Casino.

She reached over the table to pick up a French fry, hands trembling and face clouding up as if a quick and disturbing thought had struck her.

A glob of ketchup dripped from the fry and landed with a soft splat on her shirtfront.

“Dammit!” Her breath quickened and her cheeks turned deep red. “I’m sorry. It’s not polite to swear.” Her gaze dropped to her lap as if her eyelids were made of lead and stayed there.

Beneath the teak table, surrounded entirely by the good citizens of Briarville, my c**k grew hard as a three-year-old Pecarino.

I cleared my throat, pretending to not be affected by her, and said, “You sure as s**t don’t have to be polite with me. I’d rather you just be yourself.”

For the next two hours, she was exactly that. Stuck in the zone of drawing whimsical animals I didn’t recognize from any zoo or picture book, her brow furrowed adorably while she talked to me, filling the paper napkin with a colorful landscape sketched with glittering ink. I noted she signed it S.P., and wondered about this different side of hers. It was playful and frisky, and the first time I’d seen anything like it from her.

I wanted more of it.

My pulse rioted through me as I listened to her speak, like sparks flashing from a soldier’s .45, representing the terror I felt because she might at any second stop opening up to me.

Until she asked me, “What about you? What do you do?”

And then my heartbeat became a Vesuvius on the verge of erupting.

I’d given the answer so many times, it came more naturally than breathing.

But I couldn’t call myself a “businessman” and lie to her.

Not even a half lie.

No way.

So I chickened out, lifting the cuff of my sleeve, checking my watch, “Damn. I completely lost track of time being with you. I’m sorry but I have an engagement in just fifteen minutes. Let me take you home.”

Her soft eyes grew sharp and assessing the moment I said “engagement.”

“Let me carry this for you.” I picked her dino-sack off of the wooden chair and slung it weightless over my suit shoulder.

“Sorry for keeping you so long. I was a huge blabber mouth,” she apologized.

“Guess you needed to talk.”

I saw her brush away a tear, and I wanted to use my body to crowd hers close enough so she felt my arousal. I’d distract her from whatever bothered her with my d**k.

“Here it is,” she stopped in front of an ATM outside the restaurant, on a side street, looking so small in front of it that I saw a plastic box-monster, ready to devour her.

I perceived everything but me as her threat.

Turning on my heel as she punched in her pin, my head swung on a swivel.

Keeping her safe.

Let anyone try to approach her.

Let anyone try to approach her.Of course, no one did. First of all, robbery just wasn’t something that happened on the streets of Briarville. Second, taking money from my girl…suicide. The quiet Main Street behind me had a group or two of strolling tourists, and the side street was completely empty.

Before we parted ways today, I’d get Jessica’s phone number. I didn’t want to leave her, but there was no way in hell could I let her join the Drago family meal.

Nothing would make her run faster to the hills and away from me than meeting my professionally criminal relatives, their offspring and accomplices.

The Dragos oozed organized crime like maggots dripping from a rotten corpse’s eye sockets.

If I took her there, my secret would be out.

“No!” The sudden exclamation was almost a scream, and it made the hackles on the back of my neck raise.

Her face froze, staring at the flimsy slip of paper recently spit out by the bank machine.

A grim expression washed over her, and she squeezed the words out. “Do you think you could walk me to my car now?”

“Absolutely.” I took her elbow, wanting instead to sweep her into my arms and nuzzle her neck. Suck at her until she writhed, paint my possession on her skin with my mouth.

Instead, I walked her to her crappy car, uneasy about letting her drive off in that bucket of bolts.

I needn’t have worried.

Damned thing didn’t start.

“Poop! I can’t believe this.” She thrust her fingers through her hair. “First, I drop the tomatoes and now my car won’t start. Not to mention I’m going to have to owe you lunch. Really sorry, but I think maybe he emptied my bank account!”

The dreaded he.

Thanks to him, now she’d owed me one.

Thanks to him, now she’d owed me one.She bit a lip to stifle the outcry of her account being drained.

My fingers wrapped around the bare skin of her arm and carefully pulled her out of the car. “Keys?” I asked, treating her gently so as not to spill the tears that welled in the bottomless blue pools of her eyes. She’d left the key ring in the ignition and was about to lock them inside.

Her head only came up halfway to the top of my Lincoln when she took her seat. I bent over and reached across her body to snap her in safely.

She stirred uneasily.

“What is it, kitten?” I asked. I’d rehearsed the pet name a million times in my mind, so that it came to my lips unbidden.

So much for denying myself the pleasure of expressing my devotion. My personal, self-imposed Omertà was out.

Her breath hitched, and a smile trembled over her lips.

“You know what I just realized?” She asked.

“Haven’t a clue. But I reckon it’s a doozie.”

“You never told me your name. I don’t even know your name and you just made my wish come true. Tomatoes really are good luck.” She tugged three times at her seat belt.

I honestly had no idea what the f**k she was talking about, but I never wanted her to stop speaking to me.

My gaze traveled over her face and searched her eyes. She had no clue how I longed to shield her from the world with the protectiveness of my arms. “Name’s Lorenzo.”

She bit her lip and looked away. “Do you want to know a secret?” she asked. My c**k swelled. A clear image came to me unbidden. It was of her petting her pretty p***y, all alone at night.

So sexy.

So secret.

So secret.“I do.” I replied, squeezing my hands into two fists to avoid reaching over and placing my palms over her t**s to see if they were the perfect handfuls they appeared to be.

She tried to suppress a giggle, but it surged across her fuckable lips. “I think Lorenzo is a beautiful name.”

I’d teach her to refer to me as manly, but right now wasn’t the time. She was talking again, and if I weren’t careful, I’d be late for picking Nonna up.

I lowered myself over my haunches, to be eye-level with her. “Thank you, Jessica. I like your name too.” I reached out and smoothed her bangs away from her eyes. It was a poor substitute for prowling my hands across her body in the dark.

As casually as she could manage, she said. “My secret name is sparkle pony, you can call me that if you want.” Her eyes sparkled as if she were playing a game.

“You know what?”

“What?”

“Seeing you smile like that; I can almost imagine you might sparkle all day long one day.”

Jessica was more relaxed than she’d been all day, but her vexation was still clear, riding in the seat beside me. “I can’t believe he’d take all our money. No way even he’d be that cruel.”

She was adorable, muttering to herself, thinking I wasn’t clinging to every word.

Her house was traveling in the same class as her car. Bargain basement all the way. The trailer was leaning on its frame. Its status as shelter was dubious at best.

She tromped up the plywood ramp, keeping to one side, and avoided its handrail, which leaned severely to the left. It was none of my business, but I was making it mine.

“Dad!” My girl had a set of pipes when she got around to it. She banged on the flimsy aluminum door, which shuddered on its hinges, descended the ramp and then crept around the corner to the back side of the mobile home.

I skulked after her, my shoes taking their second shabby treatment for the day. I’d shine them when I got home since they were now covered in the dust from her yard. “Look sharp, feel sharp, be sharp.” As my Nonno Alberto always said.

She dropped to the ground after scaling the trailer’s skirting three feet off the ground and peering in every grimy window.

The way those tomato-red shorts hit right at her strong, youthfully slender thighs just about made me cream myself all over my trousers.

“The door’s locked and there’s no one inside.” Confused, she wandered to the front of the trailer, tapping her white sneaker on the dirt, and stared at the decrepit hut.

“You don’t have a key?” I asked.

It was hard to remain coherent when I was so close to her.

“He didn’t like me to have one. Big red flag. What an i***t I was.” She tapped her fist to her forehead, hard enough for it to make a slapping sound.

“Yeah, that’s more than just a little messed up. He locked you out of your own place?” She nodded in the affirmative and I flexed my fingers and ground my teeth, thinking of the way he’d also drained her bank account, leaving her with nowhere to go and no way to pay for anything. I needed to say something to reassure her.

“Hey.” I stepped forward. “I get it. You’ve had a rotten day, except for the part about meeting me, of course.” Of its own accord, my hand reached out and skid the back of my knuckle down her nose. The touch of her breath hit me, and I struggled for control. She’d left me no choice. I couldn’t just leave her here on the rickety ramp of her trailer, waiting for someone to show up and let her in. There was only one thing I could do to keep her safe. Take her with me to have dinner with my crazy family. I said to her not the least bit invitingly, “That said, I hate to inform you your day is about to get a lot worse, and for future reference, I won’t put up with hearing you call yourself names.”

“I really doubt it could.” She said, and I realized not once, all day long, though troubled spirits surged through her, had she complained. “Get worse, that is. I don’t have keys to get in. No money to stay anywhere. Basically, he’s left me homeless. This sucks royal dog doody.”

She was so cute when she tried to use bad words, and she looked up at me, making my heart lurch madly. It was there on her face, the tiniest glimmer.

As if she were coming back to life right before my eyes.

I vowed right then to rescue her, to serve as her very own Italian version of CPR. I’d not let her return to live in this shabby place, which was too run down and sad for her.

“You’re coming with me.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her to my car, buckling her in tight again. “It’s time you met the family.”