Fall For My Ex's Mafia Dad novel Chapter 235

But as I put my hand in his and let him pull me across his body, I also think that he usually finds ways to make it worth my while.

“Baby Fay,” he murmurs, smirking down at me, “making fun of this old man.” He considers me for a moment and then says, quite seriously, “I could have you killed for that.”

“Oh, come on,” I murmur, curling my body close against him. “You can think of a more creative punishment than that.”

“Damn right I can,” he growls as he tucks his face low against my hair, making me laugh now.

But before I can retort, Kent pulls away from me a little and looks at me seriously again. “How are you?” he asks. “And Daniel? Are you two all right? I know tonight was…” he lets his sentence trail off, just shaking his head. But I don’t mind – we both know precisely what he means.

“We’re okay,” I answer softly, looking up into his dark green eyes. “Well, Daniel is stupid drunk, but –“

“What?” Kent asks frowning, and then he looks towards the main door of his bedroom as if he might get up and check. “Why did you let him –“

“Excuse you,” I say, putting a hand up to his face and forcing him to turn back to me. “Why did I let him? Do you think I have any control over what your son does?”

“More control than me,” he replies, raising his eyebrow. “Especially since you two skittered out of there and went out partying, letting me deal with the fallout –“

“Well one,” I say, holding up a single finger against his lips, “the fallout was happening in Italian, so I am useless there. And two,” I say, adding another finger, “our escape plan had drinks. So, yeah. We were out.”

Kent kisses my fingers and shakes his head at me, letting the subject drop as he tightens his arms. “I’m glad you came down, Fay,” he murmurs, bringing his face close and nudging my nose with his. “We should talk about what happened – come up with a plan -”

“Liesss,” I whisper, and then I laugh as Kent slides himself out from beneath me, leaving me in a heap of sheets as he moves over to the wall across from us, one panel away from the secret coffee bar he showed me this morning. And then I bite my lip in anticipation of being proved correct as he looks back at me and, shaking his head, presses the panel.

I let out a little victorious squeal of delight and fall back against the pillows as the wall spins, revealing a very cute, very well-stocked mini bar. “I was right!” I cry, laughing.

“It was barely a gamble,” Kent murmurs, smirking and turning away from me and taking two glasses down from the little hanging rack at the top. He jerks his chin towards the closet as he gets started making two cocktails. “Go get changed, Fay,” he says with half a sigh. “I’m not letting you have cocktails in bed while you’re wearing Oscar de la Renta.”

“Oscar wouldn’t mind,” I say, pulling myself out of bed and passing behind Kent on my way to the closet, trailing a few fingers across his ass as I go.

And then I let myself into the closet, wondering what the hell a girl does wear to a cocktail date in bed.