CUTE
ANTONIO
Arriving home from my morning run, I head down the hall to my kitchen and go right to the fridge. I grab a bottle of water, which I drain in a few gulps. When the front door buzzer goes off, I toss the empty bottle in the recycling bin and head to the door.
“Mom?” I frown, surprised to see her there.
“Hi, honey.” She tips her head to the side so I can kiss her cheek.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, seeing that she’s carrying several large shopping bags.
“Macy’s is having a sale. I got you a new bedspread, sheets, and a few pillows,” she says over her shoulder while walking into my apartment.
Staring at her back, I close the door and head down the short hall. She drops the bags on my brown leather couch, then starts to take off her coat.
“I don’t need new sheets or a new bedspread.” I walk into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.
“Everyone needs new sheets every now and then.” She hangs her coat on the back of one of the two wooden chairs that sits at my dining table, set between the kitchen and living room.
“If I needed them, I would buy them.”
“Okay, then Libby will appreciate you having new sheets and a new bedspread when she comes over here.” She rolls her eyes.
“What?” I frown as I scoop out coffee into the coffee maker.
“No woman wants to sleep on sheets that another woman has slept on, Antonio.” She says it like I’m an idiot.
“No one but me has been in my bed or in my sheets since I moved into this place,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen with surprise. “What?”
“I’m not talking about that part of my life with you.”
Really, I have no idea why I even mentioned it. The fucked-up truth is that it didn’t seem right to bang some other chick while thinking about Libby—and I’ve been thinking about Libby since the moment I met her.
“You haven’t—”
“Mom, I’m never going there with you. So drop it,” I growl.
She presses her lips together, then mutters, “I just can’t believe this.”
“Jesus.”
“Antonio Enzo Moretti, do not use the lord’s name in vain,” she snaps, shooting daggers at me while crossing herself.
“Take the stuff you bought back to the store. I don’t need it,” I say, getting back to the conversation at hand.
“I’m not taking them back. I bought them for you. Plus, I got a great deal.” She pulls out a set of sheets that are covered in flowers. Bright, colorful fucking flowers. Then she pulls out a comforter covered with the same floral pattern.
What the hell?
“Seriously?” I look from the sheets, comforter, and throw pillows my mom is setting on the couch to her.
“Aren’t they pretty?” She picks up one of the bright-pink pillows—which is also in the shape of a flower.
“Take them back,” I demand, grabbing two mugs out of the cupboard.
“Libby will like them.”
“Libby doesn’t live with me.”
I look over at her. Libby was right. We should have kept things just between us for a while. I didn’t only because, with all the bad shit coming at my mom, I wanted her to have something good to think about. I’m starting to see the error of my ways.
“Maybe, but that day isn’t today.”
“I was just trying to help,” she says, sounding dejected. She comes into the kitchen, and I sigh as I give her a hug. “Do you like her?” She tips her head back to look up at me.
I feel my gut get uncomfortably tight but push past it to answer, “Yeah.”
She nods. “She’s a good girl.”
“She is,” I agree.
I didn’t know it before. I couldn’t have known it before because I didn’t even try to find out. But now I know she’s a good woman, a sweet woman, a hardworking woman.
Yeah, I like her . . . maybe too much.
“I hope it works out between you two. I want a grandbaby.”
I look up at the ceiling.
“Can I date her for a month before you and her mom start working on getting grandchildren out of us?”
“It sounds like I should meet her mom.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?” She shoves my chest playfully.
“Because you are bad enough on your own. If you had someone to plot with, you’d be out of control.”
“You aren’t getting any younger, Antonio.”
“I think I got a while before I need to start worrying about my age affecting my ability to father children.”
“A while?” she repeats.
“A while,” I concur, laughing when her eyes fill with disappointment.
Yeah, Libby was right. I should have kept my mouth shut.
Taking the garbage out at the restaurant, I stop and then stare at the small kitten whose face is in the bowl of milk Libby put out earlier in the evening. When the kitten finally notices me, his head—I decide it’s a “he” for some reason—comes up out of the bowl. He blinks his bright-blue eyes. Even covered in grime, the little guy is cute.
“Hey, buddy.” I get down on my haunches, and he backs up a step. “It’s okay.” I slowly stick out my hand toward him. “I won’t hurt you.” He takes one step toward me, and then another and another until his cold wet nose is pressed against the tips of my fingers. “You’re kind of cute.” I let him sniff my fingertips before I run my index finger up the bridge of his nose to the top of his head. His back arches, and I grin and slide my fingers along his back. “Do you think you’d let me pick you up without biting the shit out of me?” I ask him as he rubs his face against my hand, forcing me to pet him. “You’re gonna make my girl happy. I think you might just gain me some ground with her.” I carefully scoop him up. I expect him to start hissing, biting, and scratching, but instead he looks up at me and blinks again. He tilts his head to the side. Smiling, I pick up the trash and drop it in the dumpster, then take him through the back door and head for the office—I know Libby is there. When I get there, I find her putting on her coat. “Got a surprise for you,” I say.
Her eyes are drawn to my chest, where the kitten is resting in one of my palms.
“Oh my god.” She comes toward me slowly. “How did you catch him?”
“He was drinking the milk you left out. He didn’t run when he saw me.”
She takes another step, then slowly reaches out her hand toward the kitten and touches one finger to the top of his head.
“Did he bite you or anything?” She looks up at me, but I shake my head no. “So he’s not wild.”
“I didn’t say that, Princess,” I murmur.
She grins, then drops her eyes back to the kitten and starts petting him once more.
“You are so cute, Mr. Blue Eyes,” she murmurs, rubbing him behind his tiny ears. “You’re also really dirty.” Her nose scrunches up.
“We’ll give him a bath at my place.”
“We need to get him some food.”
“We can stop at the corner store on the way.”
“Do you want me to hold him while you get on your coat?” she asks hopefully.
I laugh. “Yeah.” I transfer him over to her and smile when he doesn’t put up a fight. “What are you going to name him?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl.” She holds him up to her face so she can look into his eyes. “Are you a boy?” she asks. The kitten tips his head to the side. “Or are you a girl?” The kitten blinks, then lifts its paw and swipes at her nose.
“I think he’s a boy, baby.”
“Why do you think that?” she asks, looking at me.
“Because he’s got balls.”
“He does?” She lifts him up to look at the underside of his belly. “Oh. Well, then, how about we name him Catsanova?”
“Catsanova?” I repeat, zipping up my coat and smiling.
“Yeah.”
“Try again.” I shake my head.
“Catzilla?”
I shake my head again.
“JustKitten, Kit Kat, Purrfect, Santa Claws, Catsup, Catillac?”
“Have you been thinking of these names for a while?” I ask, laughing at her.
She grins at me. “I googled funny cat names a while back, when I was thinking about getting a cat for myself.”
“I see.” I lead her out of the office, then out the front door. I lock it behind us.
“What do you think we should name him?” she asks me as I put the key in the lockbox and close the shutters.
“Pool,” I answer. She looks at me, confused. “His eyes are blue—the color of a pool.”
“I like it.” She smiles, then holds up the cat again.
For a wild kitten, he’s pretty damn okay with all this attention.
“What do you think, Pool?” she asks. The cat takes another swipe at her nose. “Good. Glad you like it.” She tucks the cat back against her chest.
“Come on.” I lead her across the street to the corner store, where I pick up a few cans of wet cat food along with litter and some stuff for breakfast in the morning before getting us into a cab to go to my place. Libby doesn’t know it yet, but she will be spending the night with me tonight. I wanted to stay with her last night, but when I saw that she slept on a twin-size bed, I knew that would be impossible. I haven’t slept on a twin-size mattress since I was in middle school. I’m sure I could have found a few creative ways to make us both fit in her bed, but I also know she’s not ready for the ways I’d do that.
Honestly, I don’t know if I’m ready, either. Do I want Libby? Yes, but knowing she’s a virgin, I want to make sure we have a strong foundation before we take our relationship to the next level. I don’t want to sleep with her, take a gift that she can only give away once, then have things go bad between us. Then again, the idea of another man taking her virginity makes my stomach twist with vicious jealousy.
“Are you okay?”
Hearing her softly spoken question, I focus on her again. “Yeah, Princess.”
“You seemed far away.”
“Just thinking.” I slide a chunk of her hair off her shoulder and run my fingers through it.
“Are you sure?” she asks as the cab pulls to a stop in front of my building.
“I’m sure,” I say before I pay the cab and help her out of the back seat.
“This is nice.” She looks around, and I follow her gaze up and down my quiet block.
I’ve lived in the Riverdale section of the Bronx for the last two years. It’s a quiet area with a small-town feel, even though it’s just fifteen minutes from Manhattan. I chose this part of the city because I need calm after working in the city for days at a time. I love my job, but it’s high stress. Having the quiet of this place to come home to helps me unwind. Plus, people know me. Everyone knows everyone. If you go to breakfast at the local café, they will ask you your name and then call you by it each time you come in. It’s refreshing after living in the city for so long and just being another face.
“Come on. Let’s get Pool inside, cleaned up, and fed.” I lead her to the front door; it opens as if automatically when we reach it.
“How’s it going, Antonio?” Carson, the doorman, asks when Libby and I walk into the lobby of the building.
“Going all right. Did I get any packages?”
“Nope, not today,” he answers. His eyes go to Libby, and he smiles before turning his attention back to whatever it is he was doing before we walked in.
“This is a nice building,” Libby says as we get on the elevator.
I hit the button for my floor, then wrap my hand around her hip and bring her closer to me.
Petting the top of the kitten’s head that’s tucked between us, I agree. “It is. It’s also a lot cheaper living here than the city.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. I had a one-bedroom shithole on the West Side before moving here, and my rent was triple what it is now.”
“Living in the city is expensive.”
“It is.” I slide my hand down to rest on her lower back and lead her off the elevator.
My apartment is at the end of a long hall. Pulling out my key, I unlock the door and let us both inside. I set down the bag with the cat food and groceries on the kitchen counter.
“I didn’t even ask if you have stuff we can use to give him a bath,” she says as I empty the shopping bags and finish putting things away.
“I have some shampoo we can use tonight. Anything else he’ll need we can get tomorrow.” I gather an old towel from the linen closet and a bottle of shampoo from my shower, then go back to the kitchen. Libby is still standing with Pool in her arms—now without her coat on.
“I don’t think he’s going to like this very much,” Libby says as I turn on the water to fill the sink.
“Probably not,” I agree. “But he needs a bath all the same.”
“Okay, Pool. You’ve been a very good kitty, so please don’t bite us now,” Libby says, handing him over to me once I have the sink half-full.
I carefully take Pool from her and place him in the sink. He starts to freak out. He doesn’t bite, hiss, or scratch, but he does everything in his power to escape the sink—and us.
“This is fun,” Libby says.
I look at her and laugh when I see how wet she is. Her shirt is soaked through, and even some of her hair is wet.
“This isn’t exactly what I would call fun, baby,” I tell her as I haul Pool back under the water to rinse the second round of shampoo from his fur.
“Well, at least he didn’t bite us,” she murmurs, grabbing the towel from the counter and holding it out so I can hand her Pool.
He has a “pissed kitty” pout on his face.
“See? You’re all done. I bet you feel better, don’t you?” she asks Pool.
He untucks one of his paws from the towel and bats at her chin.
“Leave him to roam, baby. Let’s get you something dry to wear,” I tell her.
Her eyes meet mine, and she looks around the room.
“What if he gets lost?”
“This place is less than a thousand square feet. We’ll find him.”
I take Pool from her and set him on the ground, then take her hand. I lead her into my bedroom and flip on the light, then go to the dresser and grab T-shirts for both of us. When I turn around, I find her bent over and taking off her boots.
My eyes automatically zero in on her heart-shaped ass. Silently telling my cock to calm the fuck down, I hand her one of the T-shirts.
“My jeans are soaked, too,” she tells me with a smile.
I go back to my dresser and grab a pair of sweats that will be way too big for her and hand them to her as well. I expect her to ask to use the bathroom, so when she takes off her top right there and drops it to the floor, my mouth goes dry and my feet lead me right to her. The bra she has on is black lace, sexy as hell. I pull her toward me, meeting her gaze.
“Do you know how perfect you are?” I ask.
Her face gets soft while her hands move to rest against my chest.
“You’re pretty perfect, too, you know,” she says.
I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her softly. Her hands slide up under my shirt, and she pushes it up until it’s over my head. She presses her bra-covered chest into me as she gets up on tiptoe to deepen the kiss.
“We need to slow down,” I tell her as her nails scrape down over my pecs and abs.
“I know,” she agrees, shoving me backward.
I fall onto my bed, and she comes down on top of me.
Her mouth hits mine as soon as we land.
“Fuck, but I want you.” I flip her to her back, then lick and nip her neck, and then the edge of her breast. I enjoy listening to the sounds she’s making.
“Antonio, please touch me,” she begs, raising her hips.
My jaw clenches, and I fight an internal battle with myself as I stare into her beautiful need-filled eyes.
“Please.”
I deftly unhook her bra and slide it from her shoulders, then unsnap her jeans and pull down the zipper. She raises her hips off the bed and helps me pull her jeans down, then kicks them off. I waste no time positioning myself between her legs when she spreads them open for me. I slide my hands under her ass and lift her into my mouth. The first taste of her on my tongue is enough to send me into a frenzy. Licking, nipping, sucking, biting—I eat her like a man famished. Her nails dig into my scalp, and her fingers pull my hair as she grinds herself against me. Carefully, I slide one finger inside her. Her hips buck up off the bed, sending her deeper into my mouth. Feeling her start to convulse around my finger, I pull her clit into my mouth and suck. Her body stills and her back arches as she comes hard. Fuck, but hearing her and seeing her come is enough to push me close to the edge. Resting my forehead against her pelvic bone, I pull in a few much-needed deep breaths to try and get myself under control.
“I think I just saw the light,” she whispers.
I smile.
“Maybe I actually died,” she continues.
I laugh, looking up at her body. Her eyes are closed and her cheeks are flushed. She looks beautiful, so damn beautiful.
“You’re staying the night,” I inform her.
Her eyes open and her chin dips so she can look at me.
“You’re staying the night,” I repeat when our eyes lock.
“I . . .” Worry fills her eyes.
I slowly slide my finger out of her, listening to her gasp as I do, then move up her body until I’m over her and looking down into her sated eyes.
“Baby, we’re not going there. Not yet. You’ll tell me when you’re ready for that. I just want to hold you tonight.”
“Really?”
“Really.” I run my fingers down the side of her face.
“Okay,” she whispers. “I’ll stay the night.”
“Good.” I kiss her forehead, then lean back to look at her once more. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah.” She lifts her hand to touch my jaw.
“Good.” I lean down and kiss her softly once more. “That was beautiful, baby. Probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced.”
Her eyes warm.
Fuck, seeing that look of contentment in her eyes . . . I know I could easily fall in love with her.
“I don’t know if I should say thank you or not.”
I start to laugh. “No thanks necessary.” I smile. “It was my pleasure.” Her cheeks get dark, and I laugh again. “We should probably get up and check on Pool.”
“What about y—”
“I’m good.” I cut her off, knowing what she’s going to ask. I don’t have the ability to think about that right now. Not with her still naked, her cheeks still flushed, the scent of her sex still in my nostrils, and the taste of her on my tongue.
“But . . .”
“I’m good.” I squeeze her waist and then kiss her once more before I help her up off the bed. Looking down at her once she’s on her feet, I grin. “You’re short without your heels.”
“I’ll always be short compared to you,” she tells me as she smiles. “It’s nice not having to worry about how high my heels are when I’m with you.”
“You worried about that before?”
“Well, if I had a date with a guy who was short or just as tall as me, I couldn’t wear whatever heels I wanted to—I had to be considerate of his emotional vulnerability about his height,” she says.
I toss my head back, laughing.
“Glad you don’t have to think about that when you’re with me, baby.” I kiss the tip of her nose and then let her go so I can hand her the shirt I gave her earlier. As much as I love looking at her beautiful body, there is no way I will be able to keep control over myself if she doesn’t put something on. “You get dressed. I’m going to see if I can find Pool. I’ll give him some food, then I’ll find us something to eat while we watch a movie.”
“Do you have popcorn?” she asks.
I think for a minute, then shake my head no. “Darn. Okay, I’ll go out as soon as I get dressed.”
I grab my shirt and put it on, then leave her in my bedroom. When I reach the living room, I find Pool lying on the couch. When he sees me, he jumps down and follows me into the kitchen. I grab an old cake pan from the drawer under the stove and fill it with cat litter, then set it down. I make a mental note to get a litter box tomorrow. I then dump a can of cat food into a bowl and set it down, along with a bowl of water. Pool sniffs the cat litter and then goes to the food and starts to scarf it down.
Libby comes out of my room wearing my shirt and my sweats, which make her look adorable.
“You better come kiss me before you mess with Pool,” I tell her.
She grins at me, stopping in her tracks. Once she’s close, she touches her lips to mine.
“Better?”
I stare into her eyes. “Yeah, baby,” I tell her, knowing she has no idea just how much better I am.
“Good.” She goes to Pool while I search for something for us to snack on.
Finding some crackers in the cupboard—and not much else—I go to the freezer and grab a bag of fries made out of broccoli and potatoes, then turn on the oven.
“I take it you’re not a fan of junk food,” she says as she watches me dump some fries onto a baking pan and place it in the oven.
“With what I do, I try to stay in shape. Part of me staying in shape is putting good things in my body. So, no, I don’t eat a lot of junk food.”
She nods.
“What about you?”
“You saw my feast a few weeks ago when you came to my apartment.”
I did see her feast: chips, candy, takeout. I don’t mind eating crap food every now and then, but I don’t do it often.
“I like junk food.”
“Do you work out?” I ask.
She cringes. “No, I think I’m allergic.”
“Sorry, Princess, but no one’s allergic to working out.”
“That’s what you think. I sweat and get all red and blotchy—I’m pretty sure that’s an allergic reaction.”
Laughing hard, I hook her around the waist and pull her toward me. “That’s just what happens when you work out.”
“Okay . . . ,” she agrees, dropping her eyes to my mouth.
“You get sweaty and red during sex, too, baby. And even if you are allergic to that, you’re gonna have to get over it because I plan on getting you all sweaty and red a lot.”
“Oh . . . ,” she breathes.
I touch my mouth to hers, then lean back, smiling. “God, you’re cute.”
Her lips part, and her body melts into mine.
“I like that you think I’m cute,” she whispers, sliding her hands up my chest.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“You are cute—and you’re sweet.”
“I’m glad you think that, too,” she says.
I shake my head. Most women want to be told they’re beautiful, sexy, or hot. But then there’s Libby, happy with being told she’s cute. Not just happy—I can tell the way her face gets soft every time I say it that it means a lot more to her.
“What movie do you want to watch?”
“What do you have?”
I open the cupboard under the TV where I keep my DVDs.
“You like scary movies, too!” she says.
I grin at her as she gets down on her knees and starts to go through them.
“My dad took me to see the movie It when it was playing in Times Square when I was a kid. I was freaked out of my mind for a whole week after watching it, but I wanted to see it again and again. After that, I became obsessed with scary movies,” I tell her as her eyes meet mine.
“Seriously?” she asks.
“Seriously what?”
“That was my first scary movie, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I love that movie. I still watch it every now and then, but it’s not as scary as it was the first time I saw it.” She smiles, then goes back to looking through my collection.
She holds up a movie and picks up Pool when he wanders over to her. Tucking him under her chin, she kisses the top of his head while I put the movie into the DVR player. We settle in on the couch. When the fries are done, Libby adds cheese to the top of hers. We eat on my couch while we watch The Blair Witch Project.
When the movie comes to an end, we get Pool to use the litter, then we both brush our teeth in my bathroom, side by side, before getting into bed.
“Antonio?” Libby says quietly.
I give her hip a squeeze.
“Yeah, Princess?” I ask when she doesn’t say more.
“You work tomorrow night at the fire station, right?” she asks softly.
I look down at her in the dark, not really able to see her facial expression.
“Yeah, tomorrow and the night after. Then I’ll have a couple more nights off. What’s up?”
“Your job isn’t exactly safe,” she says quietly.
My gut tightens.
“I—”
“My job’s not safe, Libby.” I cut her off and pull her up my body until her face is closer to mine. “Life isn’t safe. Nothing is guaranteed, baby. That’s why you need to appreciate every single moment. That said, I work with good people who have my back. I might not be safe . . . but I’m as safe as I can be.”
“Okay,” she whispers, resting her hand on the side of my neck. “I . . . I just want you to know that you shouldn’t do anything crazy like run into a burning building to rescue a cat. I might miss you if something happened and you didn’t make it back out.”
Fuck.
My arms tighten around her. Aside from my parents, no one else has cared about me in a long fucking time. It feels good. Really fucking good.
“I won’t run into any burning buildings to rescue a cat,” I tell her gruffly.
“Good.” She settles into my side, then I feel her lips touch lightly against my pec. “Night, Antonio.”
“Night, Princess.”
I roll toward her so that we are facing each other, toss my leg over hers, and wrap her up in my arms. I feel Pool, who is lying on the bed at our feet, get up and move around before settling back in. I don’t know how long I stay awake holding her, but I do know it takes me a while to find sleep. All I can think is, I should have opened my fucking eyes sooner and seen what was right in front of me. If I had, I could have had this all along.