Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
“Sure, baby, whatever you want. I’ll set an alarm.”
He picked up his phone and tapped a few buttons before turning out the lights and settling into bed with me. He pressed his naked body against mine and wrapped his arm around me, spooning me.
I felt so safe and protected wrapped in his arms. I could almost forget what had happened earlier that day, but just before I drifted off to sleep, I remembered how sure I had been that I was going to leave.
Was Giovani enough to keep me in Italy?
*Olivia*
“I love you,” I murmured, cuddling into the chest of my lover. His sturdy arms wrapped around me as I sat on his thighs. I sighed in contentment, enjoying being completely encased in him and him only.
The smell of sandalwood and cigar smoke tickled my nose–a scent I associated with Giovani. It was one that made me feel safe and protected, where no one else could interfere.
His fingers entangled in my hair, gently scraping against my scalp as he brushed through the locks. If I was a cat, I’d be purring in his lap by now, utterly content and happy.
Until we were rudely interrupted by a door slamming open…. It echoed throughout the room, and I jolted from Giovani’s lap, a sense of dread overtaking me as I spotted Alessandro standing there.
His face was covered in shadows, his mouth set in a grim line as he stood there menacingly.
“Get out,” I snapped, grabbing Giovani’s arms to prevent him from pulling away from me. Not this time. I wasn’t going to let this asshole stop us from being together.
Alessandro’s lip pulled up into a smirk, his eyes hidden from view as he stepped out of the shadows and toward us.
“Leave us alone!” I shouted, angrily.
But Alessandro wasn’t listening. He opened his mouth and–
“BEEP!”
I jolted from my slumber, waking from the odd dream I’d just had as a loud beeping continued to ring, growing louder and louder by the second but then fell dead silent as I managed to press the right buttons to make it stop.
I was still waking up from my dream as I blearily tried to regain consciousness. I blinked my eyes at the crust that had developed, taking note of my surroundings as I glanced around. Giovani’s face was the first thing I saw.
His eyes closed, his breath coming out slow and steady, there was no sign of any of the stress or frowning I’d seen him doing recently. He was peaceful–almost younger somehow.
I smiled softly, melting as I brushed my hand across his cheek, the slight stubble against my skin an odd feeling.
“Gio,” I called him softly and immediately, I saw the slight curl to his lip.
“Sorry,” he said, his eyes still closed. “I was going to wake you up, but you were too cute.”
I giggled, my heart fluttering like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon, and I buried my head into his chest, savoring this moment that we both knew had to end soon.
He heaved a sigh, leaning forward to kiss my forehead before he rolled over and out of bed. His nude form in the morning light was a sight to behold, and I took my sweet time watching as he stretched his muscles, his back rippling with every movement.
I smirked as I caught sight of the few scratches down his back and a few red marks lingering around his neck. It looked like I needed to trim my nails again, though I was growing fond of the marks I was leaving on him.
He left plenty on me, so it was only right I returned the favor.
Maybe I was more possessive than I thought. I hummed, watching as Giovani dressed and turned back to me, his phone in his hand as he smiled gently at me.
He was relaxed and content, his whole body lacking the stiffness he had the past few days, and I was proud to note that I had just as much of an effect on him as he did on me.
“I’ll see you at breakfast,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss me on the lips.
I smiled, biting his bottom lip mischievously in return, and he pulled away with a smirk.
“Naughty girl.”
He booped my nose playfully, and I giggled, feeling like I was floating on air before he turned away and slipped out into the hall without another sound.
Left alone in my thoughts, I thought about our conversation from the night before.
He loved me.
Those simple three words were enough to make me burst into elation, exploding when I least expected it and coating everyone around me with the joy I held in my soul, while the rest of me melted into a goo puddle of euphoria.
I loved him.
The bliss of knowing my feelings were returned made me want to climb to the highest rooftop and scream his name until the heavens themselves knew just how much I adored him, until even cloud nine grew jealous of my lovesickness.
Giovani was like a dream come true to me, a man tailored just for me. He wasn’t a perfect man; I wasn’t perfect either, but he was perfect for me–compassionate and strong, great in bed, and always willing to lend me his support when I needed it.
He was everything I could ever want, and he was all mine.
But inevitably, my thoughts trailed to the places I didn’t want them to go, of wide eyes and splattered red, of a man’s nasty grin, and the glint of silver charging to my best friend.
The way he had collapsed, spraying us with red, red, red, red–
I shivered, grasping my head in my hands as I tried to will those thoughts away, but I should’ve known better. The smell of blood–copper and rust–filled my nose. Even though I knew I was just imagining it, my whole body froze up.
The terror I had felt that day returned, hitting me like a bag of bricks. I coughed, choking on my own spit as the image of the man dying flashed in front of me. I dug my nails into my arms, feeling like I had to scrub away the blood that painted me, but it wasn’t there.
My mind was playing tricks on me, and all I could do was roll over to face the sun glinting through the window and hope the light was enough to wash away the bad memories.
I had never been exposed to death before this, had never seen anyone die before, not even an animal. I didn’t realize before now how much it lingered–how easy it was to latch onto you and never let you go.
I would never be able to unsee what had happened to us, never be able to forget that man’s last moments. Even if he was a criminal who wanted to hurt my best friend, I didn’t want him to die.
But he did.
It was hard to admit, but I was scared.
No, I was terrified. And it never went away.
I shut my eyes, counting backward from a hundred to calm down. I knew from experience that one couldn’t force oneself to stop thinking of something. It would just keep coming back like a boomerang.
No matter how hard you threw it, it would just return, hitting you in the head.
By the time I reached the fifties, I was calmer, but I felt the fear in the back of my mind. Like how you could tell someone was watching you, the fear was waiting for another moment to creep back in and remind me once again of why I needed to be afraid.
Before it did, however, I needed a clear mind for what I had to do next. I had a decision to make–whether I stayed or not.
With everything that had happened, it was the smarter decision to leave, to pack up and never step foot in Italy again, to try to convince my mom to break off ties with the Valentinos entirely or just go to a far-off school in Romania or some distant country instead.
