Page 217 of His Pretty Little Duet

“Yes.”I close my eyes, holding them pressed together with my forehead against her chest. Her nipples pebble beneath her shirt, and my cock responds. I mouth them softly, and her fingers tighten in my hair as she moans. “For my little deer who told me to do so,” I say against her flesh. “And for my brothers.” I continue to roll my face against her. “And I won’t bring you into any stressful situations. Nothing but comfort for you, little deer.” Imagining her defying me again, escaping, picturing her rushing across the parking lot with my baby inside her, her nervousness about being around my mother, I growl.Fuck.“Don’t push me now. You will do as you’re told or drive me to the edge of insanity. I won’t handle you defying me. I won’t— Do. As. You’re. Told.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I open my eyes and lift my head to meet a vibrant green and a cloudy blue iris staring at me. Uncertain but not afraid.

She sees me.

Raising one hand, I stroke downward from her brows, forcing her eyes closed with my fingertips, needing to touch her enchanting gaze. “I worship you,” I say, still on my knees for her; it’s almost a goddamn prayer position.

As I rise to my full height, she cranes her neck to keep eye contact, a hint of worry coasting across her pretty face. It stirs me further. Knowing she’s uncomfortable, awakening evil that reaps for her. Her alone. Fixing things.

I lean down to take her lips, forcing moans of enjoyment through them that I claim as my own, suck into my mouth. She gasps for air around my tongue.

Breaking our kiss, I nod at the stairs, then watch intensely as her beautiful body turns and climbs them?—

Fuck.

I have to move us to the first floor.

She disappears, and I clench my teeth within a smooth smile when I no longer have my eyes on her. The volatility is there, simmering.

Flattening my tie, I walk towards the cigar lounge on the far side of the house, paging Que to bring my mother to me as I go.

Within a few moments, her voice precedes her high heels. “Well, what a lovely invitation to receive.”

I lean back, nursing my liquor, watching her approach in a white blouse and navy satin pants.

This room is dim, intimate, and perfect for deemed privacy. I’ve not used it since Jimmy died. He used to have gatherings between these walls. The kind that ended in lust-filled exhibitionism. I liked it then. Now, I want nothing more than to watch my little deer in any capacity.

Through the sliding doors to my left, an outhouse with a sauna stands and I’ve taken my fair share of women in that space, even under the eye of Jimmy’s strategically placed surveillance.

I make a note to take Fawn there, have her spread her pretty, white thighs, sweat and come while I watch.

Returning my gaze to my mother, I say, “You have been asking me for a drink for months now. I’ve been busy. So, I am making time for you.” Nodding to the opposite sofa chair, I order her to sit.

Que heads towards the raised corner bar, readying himself to be at my disposal for beverages witha twist.

Across from me, another whiskey waits, and within the brown pool is a concoction consisting of a few things, namely sodium pentothal—otherwise known as truth serum.

I’ve used it in the past in interrogations; theCosa Nostrahas used it throughout history.

Its street name is a lie. It is not a magical serum that forces the user to spout the truth through fighting lips. It is, however, a sedative that relaxes the brain and inhibits clever thinking. It fogs. The facts are easy to recall, whereas it’s far harder to construct a lie when under the influence.

She slides onto the ruby-hued sofa and reaches for the short glass, eager to start drinking.Good girl.“What has brought this on, Clay?”

“I wasn’t pleased with the way you spoke in the meeting a few days ago,” I reprimand with a hint of distaste. “I wasn’t happy with the way youappearedeither. Is my father treating you well?”

“He does his thing.” She stares into the translucent dark liquor, thrilled by it. Her old friend. “I do mine. Clay, you have far more important things to concern yourself with.”

I deadpan. “I concern myself with whatever I choose, Mother. And right now, that is you.”

“Well, I thought you wanted me to lay off the alcohol. Always so concerned about me. What has caused this sudden change in your disposition?”

She isn’t a fool.

Remember who she is.

“I do not like you drinking. I do… find myself often protective over you… But Fawn is pregnant,” I offer as a way to explain my change of heart, my desire to discuss my future, discussmotherhood.“I’m making an exception tonight while I findmyself in a position I never thought I would be in. And perhaps, you are the only person to understand my predicament. I never wanted children,” I say, lifting my ankle to rest on my knee. “I was contented with my brothers producing heirs for theCosa Nostra.”

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