Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad
Chapter 125

Kent succeeds, though not a drop of tequila gets away from him. Kent glares up at me when he's finish and, I think in his idea of punishment, drags his tongue in a long, thick lick from my belly button halfway up my stomach. "What the hell were you thinking, Fay," "I don't know," I say, still grinning at him. "I saw it on MTV once when I was a kid. I always wanted to try it."

he growls.

"Well don't do it again," he commands, bringing his face level with mine and then grabbing the bottle of tequila out of my hands.

"Hey!" I shout, grabbing for it, but he pulls away from me and raises the bottle to his lips, taking a long drink. Kent shakes his head as he swallows, wincing at the burn of the liquor before handing it back to me.

"If we're going to be classless, Fay," he says, turning his eyes back to mine, "at least be clean."

"I can work with that," I reply, grinning before raising the bottle to my lips and taking a long drink myself. Then, I tuck the bottle in next to me as I snuggle back against the pillows and smile at Kent, enjoying the warm and cozy burn of the tequila in my chest, feeling it already bringing a little peace to my tired brain.

Kent eyes the open bottle anxiously but I tsk him and give him a little shove on his shoulder. He just rolls his eyes.

"I didn't agree to chaos, Fay," he informs me, shaking his head at me yet again.

"I know, Kent," I say, lifting a sympathetic hand to his face. "But that's the price you pay to have me all curled up in your bed."

"Worth it," Kent murmurs, the words barely audible as he turns his face to press a kiss to my palm. But then he turns his attention back to me. "Are you sure?" he asks, "that you don't want to talk about what happened tonight?"

"Do we need to?" I ask, suddenly hesitant. "I mean..." I wiggle a little bit, trying to sit up straighter. "Are you...going to like, kick me out of the house?"

"No, Fay," Kent promises, his face suddenly very serious despite the fact that he did a body shot off of me thirty seconds ago. "She can make demands all she wants, but this?" he says, nodding between us. "This is not hers to arbitrate." "Okay," I say, relaxing back against the pillows. "Then, can we talk about it tomorrow? Can we just...have tonight?"

"Yes, Fay," Kent murmurs, smiling at me. "If that's what you want."

And since it is what I want, I raise the tequila to my lips again, taking a sip before pressing it to Kent's mouth. He holds my gaze as he takes the bottle from my hand, only breaking my eyeline as he tips his head back to take a steady drink. And then, when he lowers his head again, we talk.

And talk.

And we continue to talk, long into the night, way past the point when I'm sure Kent would have preferred to go to sleep. At first Kent just answers whatever random questions I can come up with, which get deeper and more poignant as we go. And then, after we've had enough tequila to make my brain pleasantly fuzzy, he begins to offer stories of his own.

And to my shock, Kent tells me all sorts of things about his life. Things I'm sure hardly anyone knows - which Daniel himself might not even know.

He tells me about his charmed childhood at his father's side, how he grew up with the best of everything before his father was brutally murdered in a mob hit when he was just a kid. He tells me about how he saw it happen. How he'll never forget the sight of his father's blood.

And then Kent tells me about how his world fell apart after his father's death. I bite my lip as I listen to him tell it, not wanting to remind him that it is precisely that fate which Natalia wants to give me by having my own father murdered. But Kent meets my eyes as he tells me about how his mother scrambled to hold their life together, how his uncle stepped in to help, and I know that he understands. I know that this story is a promise that it won't be the same for me.

"You know him, you know," Kent says, taking another swig of tequila. "My uncle Gino."

"What?" I ask, shocked. "Is he - he's not dead?" I've heard of him before, of course - just briefly, I think from Daniel - the man who helped Kent's mother hold the family together for him while Kent was sent to Italy to be raised by the Bianci family.

"No, he's not dead," Kent says, laughing and grinning at me. Then he gestures towards the rest of the house with the bottle. "You see him every morning, Fay. At breakfast."

"Oh!" I say, my eyes going wide. "Oh." And then I slap a hand against my forehead, laughing at myself. "Seriously!? That's your uncle Gino, at the table with the old men?" Kent laughs at me, shaking his head. "Who did you think it was?"

"Well, I don't know," I say, rolling my eyes at him. "It's not like you or Daniel ever had the grace to introduce me."

Kent just shrugs and offers me the bottle of tequila, which I take and sip from, watching him. "You could have introduced yourself. Kind of rude that you didn't."

I laugh and smack him on the shoulder. "Come on, Kent! You know how shy I am, and how scared I was when I first came into this house."

"Shy," Kent scoffs, disbelieving, as he lowers his face to my shoulder and presses a kiss there. "You're not shy, Fay. Not really."

"What?" I ask, shocked and a little confused.

"Seriously, Fay," he continues, placing little kisses on the skin all along the line of my shoulder. "You stand up to me on a regular basis, you had the brass to walk past Natalia at a glacial space even though you were an hour and fifteen minutes late to dinner, you have a second mafia boss so eager to see you he crashes my family party -"

"Ohhh," I say, swatting at Kent. "That's not the same thing at all - I also blush like a damn lobster every five minutes and feel my knees go weak anytime even frowns at me -"

"Not true," Kent says, lifting his head to look me seriously in the eye. "Not anymore, at least. Shy, Fay - that's not what you are at all. It's just that at some point you got the idea that you were weaker, or less capable, or less deserving than other people. But your real heart? Beneath it all?" He shakes his head at me again, tapping a finger at my chest as a little smile pulls at his lips. "You're a viper, Fay."

I blink at him, completely shocked by his words, by his...well, by his compliment. And a little twist of pleasure rises in me at this idea that this is how Kent sees me.

And, because I'm me, I immediately blush. Kent laughs when he sees it.

"See!?" I say, my blush deepening in my embarrassment. I raise my hands to my cheeks, trying to block it from his sight. "Kent, I can't be a viper when I do this whenever anyone says something nice about me -"

"You can," he says, pulling my hands away and pressing a kiss to each of my blushing cheeks, "if you would just start believing the compliments. Or believing it of yourself before someone has the grace to inform you of it."

"Oh, I can't do that," I sigh, leaning back against the pillows and covering my face with my hands.

"Why not, Fay?" Kent asks softly, his voice curious. "You're the only one who doesn't know your power the moment you walk into the room. Fiona saw it immediately. So did I. It's why Natalia can't stand you. No one doubts you as much as you do." "Really?" I breathe, pulling my hands away from my face and looking up at him. "Is that honestly how you see me, Kent?"

"It is," he says, holding my eyes so that I'll believe him for a moment before shifting his body so that his head is lower now, down by my shoulders. Kent dips his head again, kissing me in the hollow of my throat and then down my chest. "You're a viper hiding in the skin of a fawn, Fay. It's incredibly sexy. You're just the last one to figure it out."

I shake my head and smirk at the top of his head and burying my fingers in his hair as he moves his body even lower on the bed, pressing kisses to my stomach, letting his tongue stroke languidly across my skin. "I bet you say this to all the girls," I murmur, a little disgruntled. "The fawn/viper line is a good one."

"I have never said that to any girl," Kent says, looking up at me quickly with a little fury in his eyes. "And I wouldn't have said it to you, except you got me all drunk on tequila. Loosened my tongue, in all the worst ways."

And then he lowers his face to my stomach again, tugging angrily at the lacy edges of my panties as he moves further down.

"Well, if this is the result," I say, my breath starting to come in little pants as he licks lower, and lower, "then we're having tequila every day..."

Kent nips me on the inner thigh then, punishment for my sass, and I give a sharp little yelp that quickly turns into a moan as he begins to lick me, languidly, precisely where I want him to lick.