Page 64 of Kept

“Marco and I are working on a solution.”

“Very descriptive, dear,” I snort.

“Are you trying to get your ass spanked first thing in the morning?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

I cover my butt without thinking about it. “Noooooope.” He makes a little growl, so I clarify, “No, sir.”

Vincent kisses me. “Good girl.”

We lie like that, me dozing off on his chest listening to his pulse, him staring at the ceiling contemplating God knows what, until his phone chirps.

He mutters in Italian under his breath and sends a text. “Kitten, I have to take care of something. Why don’t you take a bath and I’ll send breakfast up?”

“Okay.”

“And call Alessandro. He has some scheme he thinks is right up your alley and wants help with.”

I smile. I enjoy the mafia priest’s company. “I’m overdue for confession by a good decade anyway.”

“Don’t you confess a goddamned thing to my older brother, kitten!” He slips out from under me and delivers two sharp slaps to my ass.

“Ouch!” I pout.

He gives me a salacious smile. “You’re pouting because it was only two spanks, kitten, and you damn well know it.”

By the heat coming from my face, I’m blushing beet red. His smile grows.

Vincent rolls out of bed and disappears into the closet, returning a few minutes later in his traditional gangster chic.

He gives me an earth-shattering kiss on the lips before leaving on whatever urgent business disturbed his morning.

I, on the other hand, soak in the bath until I’m a giant prune. I rinse off in the shower to take care of my hair and scrub my face. I dry and style my hair and add a touch of fresh makeup. From the closet I pull out a pair of dark skinny jeans, the softest knee-high leather boots I’ve ever felt, and a white cowl neck tunic that ends just below my butt.

I check in with Robert but don’t mention that I saw part of the performance. He doesn’t seem to know I was there, and I’m not volunteering information that will make him spin out into a rapid-fire game of twenty panicked questions screamed into a cell phone.

I find Alessandro’s number programmed in my phone.

“Hello, Sarah,” he says cheerfully.

“Oh, um, hi. Vincent said you needed to talk to me about something.”

“Yes, yes. A project I’ve wanted to kick off for some time, but I only recently found the inspiration to make it happen.”

“Okay… and what is that?” I ask.

A soft knock at the door announces the arrival of breakfast. I dig into my juice and avocado toast, which has quickly become my favorite.

“Well, the community desperately needs youth programs geared for older kids. I’d like to pick your brain about it. Do you have time to come to the church?”

I laugh. “Alessandro, my day is nothing but spare time.”

“Well, all the better for me today. I’ll have one of the boys bring you down, okay?”

“Sure, shoot me a message when it’s time for me to head down.”

“Done. Looking forward to it.” Alessandro disconnects.

My phone chirps with a message from Vincent.

---