Page 19 of Ruining Vanessa

“Yep! All four of us. A nice, big, happy family. With baby… not on the way quite yet, but we’ll get there, right?”

Vanessa pales and she presses her lips together. It’s hilarious watching her trying so very, very hard not to piss us off, when she wants nothing more than to protest her role in all this.

I’d have more sympathy for her if she hadn’t tried to run once already.

…Who am I kidding? I’d still think it was hilarious even if she’d been the perfect little broodmare for us.

“Damien, Slayer, you two can go sit down at the table. I’ve labeled the seats. Vanessa and I are gonna grab the food.” I wave Vanessa over to my side. My condo is open concept, so the dining area and the kitchen are well within view of each other. At least I’ll know that Slayer and Damien haven’t started murdering each other while I’m not looking.

Which would also be kind of hot.

Vanessa leaves Damien’s side, but she doesn’t snuggle up to me, opting to walk over to the kitchen instead. “What are we having?”

“Coq-au-vin.” I step up behind Vanessa and wrap my arms around her stomach. “That’s French for rooster, but if you want to imagine wine-marinated cocks, you’re welcome to.” I lightly massage her lower belly like I’ve seen Damien do so many times, just because it makes her fidget against me.

“Funny,” she says in a tone that makes it clear she doesn’t think it’s funny at all.

I kiss the side of her neck. She’s tall enough that I don’t have to bend down to do it. “Are you wearing panties?” I ask as I nibble her neck. “Or did Damien make you put on the tights without anything underneath?”

Vanessa squirms even more, and I don’t have to see her face to know she’s blushing, especially when she says, “I’m… not wearing anything beneath them.” She mutters the words quickly, like saying them fast enough will make them somehow less true.

I glance over at the table, where Damien and Slayer are openly staring at us. Neither of them has sat down yet. I didn’t think they were going to have quality time without us, but it pleases me to know we’re the center of attention. I massage Vanessa’s stomach a little more as I lock eyes with Damien, then nip her throat hard enough to make her yelp—just for Slayer.

“All right, stop distracting me.” I slap her ass, making her jump, then pull away from her. “Serving spoons are over there, here are all the dishes. No, Slayer, you don’t get to decline the veggies.”

Slayer sneers at me. “I eat vegetables sometimes, smartass,” he retorts.

I raise my eyebrows at him, but he only stares stubbornly at me. I snort, shaking my head in amusement.

Vanessa silently takes the bowls and brings them to the table while I grab the Dutch oven and set that down as well.

Damien goes to take a seat and stops by his chair. “Giulio…”

“Is there a problem?” I ask innocently.

The table is a longer one, comfortably fitting eight adults. I’d arranged the place settings with two on each side, near the middle of the table. Vanessa and I are on one side, which leaves…

Slayer notices as well, and immediately picks up his name tag and tries to switch it with mine. I swat his hand with one of the serving spoons.

“Nope, it’s my date, so I’ve got Vanessa with me,” I say cheerfully. “When you cook a five-star meal and invite us over, you can decide the seating arrangements.”

Slayer groans. “How about I buy a five-star meal and invite you and Vanessa over?” he asks, purposely excluding Damien—which isn’t surprising. I’m sure Damien would exclude Slayer, too.

One of these days, I’ll figure out a way to have them kiss and make up. Or almost kill each other and fuck, same difference.

Vanessa mutters, “Because we all know he can’t cook one.”

Slayer pauses just before sitting down, and he bursts out laughing. “Oh, look at that. That’s cute. Baby Mama has jokes.”

Damien grudgingly sits down as well. “I’ll invite you over, Giulio. I could cook—”

“Nope!” I interrupt, taking my seat. “Vanessa and I want to have a nice meal without our insides trying to murder us from the heat. Now come on, Mama, hurry up and serve us so we can get started.”

“Why do I have to serve everyone? I’m not your maid,” Vanessa says, glaring at me.

“But you are my… wife,” I suggest, nodding. “Yeah. We’re having a nice dinner party. I think we’re a hot, young, kinky couple, hoping this evening will lead into a gangbang. I invited my two besties, who are probably DTF, but you gotta be delicate with these things. What if they’re completely insulted we even suggested it?”

“I can only hope,” Vanessa mutters. “Because I’m not… DTF.”

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