Pain and Pleasure by Callie Vincent

10

Esmeralda

I'm backin my bedroom and it must have been a few hours since I was at Dante's door.

I’ve busied myself with one of my projects for my last semester. It is a draft of my restaurant business plan and it’s giving me a headache every time I open it, but the distraction is much needed. Dante came to knock on my door about an hour after we were left in the most awkward silence. I held up my laptop to show him that I was busy, not bothering to take my earbuds out of my ears.

He stood there in silence for a few minutes before stomping off. I don’t particularly care if he’s in a mood, he’s not the one that was just called a “dull toy” by a supermodel. That was me, Ms. Frumpy-Business Major. I wanted to sit and sulk initially, but I brushed back my tears of embarrassment and carried on with my day, burying myself in my work.

School has always been my salvation, even if it causes me frustration at times. It’s the only thing that I can throw myself into wholeheartedly, blocking out the stress of whatever reality I am currently facing. Right now, it’s the most needed distraction and I’m thankful that I have it. The draft for my restaurant is in its final stages. I’ve been working at it and perfecting it for well over two years now. Soon, I’ll have both a college diploma and the restaurant of my dreams.

Though my mom has stolen money from me on countless occasions, I’ve made sure she has never had access to my credit line. She’s never been aware of my credit cards since I opened them when I was eighteen. I’ve made sure to work tirelessly at it, perfecting my score so that I could take out a small business loan whenever I graduate college. I sit back and look at my draft with a proud smile.

I’ve wanted to replicate Ricky’s mother’s kitchen but refine it with a little bit of a fancier touch, creating the perfect balance of a fine dining establishment that feels like home. I want it to be a place where everyone is welcome, where everyone feels at home and can rejoice in the love of good food and connection.

I’m almost there. I’m almost fucking there.

A knock sounds and before I can even look up, Ricky enters with a plate of food. I smile at him and he raises an eyebrow, seeming to pick up on my weird mood.

“You’re home late,” I say, turning back to my laptop to type up more of my draft.

He sets the plate down on my nightstand, the smell of rice and peppers wafting across my nostrils. My stomach growls eagerly.

“I had a long day with Marianne at the shop today.”

My fingers freeze over the keys of my laptop and I look up at him. He’s sitting on my bed and staring at me with a strange expression that I can’t really pinpoint.

“How was your first day? I want to hear all about it!” I exclaim. He clicks his tongue at me and I frown, saving my draft and closing my laptop.

“There’s time for that later. What I want to know is why you’ve locked yourself in your room while Dante is downstairs with literal steam coming from his ears. I have a funny feeling that somehow those two things are connected…”

Never misses a beat.

I grab my plate and start eating, savoring the flavor of chicken and peppers. It tastes so fresh, even though I know that it’s probably been ready for hours.

“I’m not his mother, I can’t explain or track every mood he has. I actually have work to do and focus on,” I say in between bites, setting my near empty plate back down on the nightstand.

“He seemed pretty pissed, Em. Saying that you keep jumping to conclusions without even speaking to him. Something I’m well aware that you do, because I showed you how to do it.” He winks and picks at his fingernails. I roll my eyes as I stretch my arms and legs, still sore from yesterday and from sitting over a computer all day today.

“He’ll be fine, trust me. He’s a big boy.” I get up and walk to grab some fresh towels and clothes, ready for a hot shower. Ricky’s hand snaps out and grabs me. He frowns, staring me down.

“I could care less about him, babe. What I want to know is what happened, because I can sense some type of hurt in you, even if you try your best to block it from me.”

I don’t know why I try hiding things from him, it’ll never work. He sees right through me as soon as he looks at me, sometimes even without looking at me. It’s never unnerving because he’s practically my brother, but it is frustrating when I want to keep something to myself. Especially when it’s something embarrassing. I know I can trust him with my vulnerability, but it’s hard to express things when you hate being vulnerable. It’s one of the things I hate most in this world.

I sigh deeply, collapsing on the bed next to him, my arm covering my eyes.

“I went to the library today to relax and heard a lot of shuffling and commotion from Dante's side of the house, so I went over to make sure he was okay.”

I swallow back the sudden tears, feeling stupid for being embarrassed all over again. I’m better than this and I know it. I know not to let others' opinions bother me, but for some reason I couldn’t shake this woman's words.

“A woman opened the door, the same woman I told you about the other night. The supermodel bitch from his party. She called me dull, Ricky. She said I was a toy and that he should call her when he gets bored of me...again. She said the word again, as if it’s obvious that he’s been bored before.”

It’s quiet for a minute, but Ricky is pulling my arm from my face. I open my eyes and find him smirking at me.

“What?” I ask.

“Want to know what I think?” he quips back.

I nod, somewhat eager to hear the response that amuses him.

“I think she’s obviously mad that he’s found pussy fresher than hers.”

“Ricky!” I swat at him and we both laugh, endless giggles erupting from our throats. What would I ever do without this person's light and love in my life? He’s my better half.

“I’m serious, baby girl. You’re the cream of the crop of them all. Not to mention that you’re also younger, smarter and a lot more stubborn. Obviously, the reasons are that you keep him on his toes enough to keep chasing you around like a puppy.”

He’s not wrong. Anytime Dante and I argue, he chases after me. For a while I thought it was because he wanted to defend himself, to keep his power in place. But I can see it for a different reason, a reason that makes him want to right whatever wrong about him that I’ve cultivated in my mind.

“I’m not mad at him, Ricky. He’s a man and we’re just...we’re not anything. It was just embarrassing, to hear her say those things...in front of him.”

“It was embarrassing because you let her words get to you. Why can’t you stand your ground with others like you do with him? I see how you both communicate. You fight tooth and nail. Why is it so hard to do that with a stranger?” He asks and they are all valid questions.

“Because I don’t know how to navigate this world. I don’t know these people and the unknown scares me.”

“As it scares all of us, but even he is unknown. The fate of your business is unknown, even your death is unknown, and you’ve never been afraid of those things. Don’t change that all of a sudden for the sake of some plastic people in slutty dresses or bland Armani suits.”

He pulls me from the bed and I groan in protest but smile when he pulls me in for a hug. I look over his shoulder and see Dante standing in the doorway, staring at us. Ricky turns around to look at him and then smiles at me.

He’s been watching the entire time, because Ricky told him to. The bastard.

Ricky lets go of me and winks before leaving my bedroom, leaving Dante and I alone.

“You can come in. You don’t have to hover like a bat in the shadows,” I tell him.

He clears his throat and walks in, shutting the door behind him. His hair is disheveled, and I notice that his five o’clock shadow is now a full-blown beard in bloom. I like it. I like the rough and edgy look it gives him. The black hairs line his jaw and shape around his full lips. My fingers itch to get lost in it. To tug on it while he fucks me.

I sit down on the bed and pat the spot next to me. He walks over and sits uncomfortably. It makes me smile because he looks somewhat unsure and vulnerable, treading my waters lightly. It’s a change, one that I welcome. I can’t chastise him forever, he may be the devil, but he’s not at fault for others’ words.

“You’ve already heard everything, so you don’t need to ask, but there is something I want to know.”

He looks at me carefully, his amber eyes holding emotions that I’m sure he doesn’t show to just anyone. Caution, trepidation, anxiety. Things that are not Dante.

“Ask me anything,” he says in a low voice. It makes me raise my eyebrows at him. He usually gives me an inch, but today it feels like a mile. So I’m going to both take it and run with it.

“First, who is she? Who is she to you?”

He clears his throat, resting his forearms on his pants.

“My old assistant...and ex-lover.”

I nod, still keeping up with my questions.

“And what’s her actual name?”

“Isabella. Isabella Suarez. Her mother worked for my father, and we grew up together in Columbia. She eventually moved to California with my father and I, helping us oversee our business in the states.”

“And when did you last fuck her?”

His eyes snap to mine and I hold his gaze sternly, not backing down. He narrows his eyes at me while he answers.

“Last year, right before she was fired here for stealing over twelve grand from our accounts. She’s been trying to get both her job and her place in my bed back since.”

I rub my eyes, feeling tired all of a sudden, but I refuse to quiet the questions in my mind anymore.

“And why haven’t you let her back into your bed? It’s easier than hiring back a thief.”

His eyes stay narrowed on me, as if he can’t believe I would ask him that.

“Because not only do I not want her in my bed, but also because there’s no room in it for her since I’ve had you, Emmie.”

It’s an honest response, I see it in his eyes. We stare at each other for a minute, lost in each other's gaze and truth.

“I’m not mad at you, you know. I’m just confused. I don’t know these people in your world, I barely even know much about you...still, even after you’ve touched the most secret parts of me.”

I blush and he leans towards me, his lips at my ear.

“I’ll take those secret parts of you over anything, over anyone, at all times. What else do you want to know?” He whispers in my ear, his hand traveling to my thigh, gripping it slightly. I swallow audibly, my eyes closing at his dark touch.

“What's your last name?”

“Moreno,” he answers immediately.

Dante Moreno. It rolls off his tongue like honey, sticky, sweet and smooth.

“And how old are you?” His lip quirks up in the corner, giving me a smirk. A lock of his smoothed-back hair falls over his eye. It makes me want to smile back at him. He’s so fucking beautiful.

“I’ll be celebrating my fortieth birthday next month.”

He’s almost forty and literally looks like a Greek God.

I tuck my hair behind my ears and his eyes track the movement, his hand still gripping my thigh as he licks his full lips. I know what he wants, I can see it all over his face and feel the sexual tension between us cracking through the air like static electricity. It makes me shiver.

“Are you going to let me plan your party? I like event planning as much as I do cooking. That is...if it’ll be up to your high standards.” I smirk at him as I tease.

He scoots closer to me, his hands going to my waist so that he can pull me from the bed and onto his lap, my thighs hugging his hips as he licks at my jaw. I close my eyes in contentment, the feel of his hot tongue practically melting me on the spot.

“You want to celebrate me, pequeña?” he says as his tongue goes from my jaw to my throat, trailing down to my breast. He kisses them through my shirt, creating wet spots. I nod eagerly and he moans.

“Everything you do exceeds my expectations, Esmeralda. You have no idea just how perfect you really are.”

He flips me and throws me back on the bed, laying over me as his hand grips the tops of my pants, yanking off the fabric and throwing it to the floor.