Author: Alexa Land
Category: LGBT
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/alexa-land/page,20,529414-all_in.html
Unexpectedly, I found myself letting go of a lot of that hurt, that anger, and actually forgiving him. I could love my father unconditionally, even if he hadn’t been man enough to do the same for me.
“What you did to me wasn’t ok,” I said quietly. “But I love you, Dad. I always will, no matter what. I’m obviously not going to move back home, I’m a grown man and I stayed too long as it was. But if you want to try to be a part of my new life, well, I guess we could figure out how to make that work.”
“Yeah, ok.” His chin trembled for just a moment, and his eyes got a little moist. But he didn’t cry. It wasn’t something he was capable of.
This wasn’t going to be a big hug-it-out moment. That was another thing my father couldn’t do. I stood up and said, “Come into the kitchen. There are a couple people I’d like you to meet.” Ok, so maybe this was one last test. And obviously, he had to pass it if he was really going to be a part of my life.
Christopher was sitting on the kitchen counter, watching us closely when we came in. Of course he’d heard everything in this small apartment. And Dante was leaning against the opposite counter with his big arms crossed over his chest, muscles bulging in his tight t-shirt, a dark expression on his face and eyes blazing. I’d never seen Dante like this, in what must be full mob boss mode. Oh man, was that sexy! I had to fight back a grin.
“Dad,” I said, “this is my best friend Christopher.” My roommate held up a hand by way of greeting. “And this,” I said, coming up to Dante and resting my hand on his big bicep, “is my fiancé, Dante Dombruso.”
“Holy shit,” my father muttered. And then it occurred to me that maybe my Teamster father knew about organized crime in this city. Maybe he knew exactly who was staring him down, bringing to life the expression ‘if looks could kill.’
Dante pushed off the counter and came to stand right in front of my dad, arms still crossed over his chest. He was intimidating as hell when he wanted to be, and God was it hot. “You hurt Charlie. You hurt the person that means more to me than anyone else in this world,” Dante told him in a low voice. “You do that again, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
A little giggle escaped me, and I pressed my knuckles to my mouth and tried to cover it by clearing my throat. Everyone in the room turned to stare at me, and I said, “Damn. I’ve never seen you in action, Dante. That’s impressive.” I smiled at him, and he raised an eyebrow at me. “But you don’t have to threaten my dad. He knows he messed up. And I’m done letting him hurt me, he doesn’t have that kind of power over me anymore. So, instead of threatening to chuck him the bay after fitting him with a set of cement loafers, how about if you just shake hands with your future father-in-law?”
Dante grinned, just a little, and then got serious again as he turned back to my dad and stuck his hand out. My dad shook it quickly.
A slightly hysterical yip came from the end of the kitchen. Peaches was in his pen, vibrating with excitement, wagging his stumpy tail so hard that the back three quarters of the dog was wagging along with it.
“Peaches!” my father exclaimed and rushed up to the pen, snatching up the dog. Instead of trying to chew my father’s head off, the dog barked delightedly and licked his face.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Christopher murmured.
“I never thought I’d see this little fella again,” my father said happily. “I thought your mother took him along to Ohio. How did he get here?”
“She dropped him off on the way to the airport. She didn’t want to leave him at home with you, because she thought you’d take him to the pound,” I told him.
“I would never do that, not in a million years. Why would I?”
I shrugged and said, “Guess she was mistaken. So, do you want to take him with you? He’d enjoy being back in his home and his yard. He doesn’t like apartment life.” Or any of us.
And so Peaches the dog went home with my father, and Dante and Christopher and I let out a collective sigh of relief. My father and I had agreed to talk soon, maybe get together to watch a game. Football had always been our common ground. “So,” I said, falling back onto the couch, “my dad was happier to see the dog than he was to see me. And my mother had a much harder time saying goodbye to the dog than her own son. I think I’m developing an inferiority complex to a smelly zombie lap dog.”
“It’s kind of surprising that you’re as normal as you are, with those parents,” Christopher told me with a little grin, curling up on a chair.
“Cement loafers?” Dante said, coming into the room and sitting beside me. “Really?”
“Well, what do you want? I was never in the mafia. I don’t know a bunch of cool gangster euphemisms for offing someone,” I told him with a smile.
Dante was holding a plate of pumpkin pie and fed me a forkful, his dark eyes going even darker when I ended up with whipped cream on my mouth. He leaned in and slowly licked it off my lips, and Christopher sighed and said, “Man, anything will set you two off. I’ll go for a walk or something.”
He started to get up, but Dante said, “No, stay. There’s someplace I’m planning to take Charlie, so I’m not getting anything started.”
When we finished eating, we got in Dante’s BMW. It was a glorious fall day, the sky a cloudless blue, and I rested my hand on my fiancé’s knee as we drove across town.
His cell phone rang and I picked it up and put it on speaker. “Dante? You better not have me on a fucking speaker phone,” Mrs. Dombruso exclaimed.
“Hi Nana,” I said, “we’re in the car. And this way we can both talk to you at once.”
“Well, I guess that’s ok then. So listen, I just got off the phone with the Mark Hopkins. The bastards are totally booked for New Year’s. So then I had a flash of inspiration. We should have your wedding here, in my house! I mean, what’s the point in having a grand ballroom if nobody ever gets married in it?”
Dante looked at me, and I nodded. So he said, “Sure Nana, that’s a great idea.”
“Tell Christopher Robin to come over this weekend. I want him to help me transform that space. He’s got that, you know. Artistic eye.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said.
“Charlie, I’m going to need your guest list ASAP. We need to get invitations out in a hurry.”
“I’m only going to have about five friends there,” I told her. I tried to imagine my father attending my wedding. I’d invite him, but kind of doubted that was something he’d be able to handle. “I can probably just tell them when and where to show up.”
“Nonsense! Whoever heard of a wedding without formal invitations? We aren’t hobos, for Christ’s sake.”
I held back a laugh and agreed to get her my guest list right away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
We pulled up in front of a big white building in the Marina district right about the time Nana got off the phone with us, and I exclaimed, “Is this your new restaurant?”
“It will be. Come and take a look inside.” As he unlocked the big glass door, he said, “You have to use your imagination once we get in here. I had all the walls torn back to the studs and the entire building earthquake-reinforced with a new steel skeleton. The construction crew is still in the process of putting it all back together.”
The main body of the restaurant was spacious, with high ceilings and lots of natural light coming through tall leaded glass windows. The building dated from the 1920s, and Dante explained that he wanted to recreate a speakeasy feel. He showed me where the dining room would go, and the position of the bar, and said, “I’ve asked Christopher to paint a mural for me all along that wall over there. He’s intimidated by the project, but I think he’ll agree to do it.”
When he took me back to where the kitchen would be he really became animated, talking about equipment and how it should all be laid out and this, that, and the other thing. And I grinned and said, “Forget architecture. You should go to culinary school, become chef-owner of this place.”
“I don’
t know about that. But I am looking forward to putting the menu together. I know I want to serve Nana’s pasta with marinara. And since pizza’s your favorite food, I’m planning to put in a brick pizza oven.”
“So, you’re going Italian. That’ll be good. What’s the restaurant going to be called, anyway?”
“It won’t be strictly Italian, I want an eclectic menu. And as for the name, I’ll show you,” he said, leading me to the back of the building. “I hired a local metal artist to make the sign that’ll go over the front door. I was shocked that she got it done already.” He pulled back the flaps of a flat cardboard box that was maybe six feet long and three feet high. Inside was a bronze rectangle with the name of the restaurant spelled out in elegant raised script. It said Charlie Connolly.
“You’re kidding,” I said with a big smile. “You named it after me? And gave it both my first and last name?”
“I didn’t want to be presumptuous and name it Charlie’s. I don’t know if you’re going to want to have anything to do with this place. So this way, it’s named in honor of you, and you can take it or leave it. But if you’re interested, I really hope you’ll help me run it. I’m sick of you working for your ex-boyfriend. I’m planning to be really hands-on with this restaurant, and I hope you’ll work at my side.”
“I’d love to. And I’m honored that you gave it my name.”
He kissed me and said, “I have more to show you.” He took my hand and led me to a back staircase, and when we got to the second floor, he said, “There are two apartment units on this level. I want to give one to Christopher in exchange for painting the mural. I’m still thinking about how to offer that to him without making it sound in any way, shape or form like charity.”
Dante led me up one more flight of stairs and said, “This is what I really wanted to show you.” The third floor of the building was wide open and sunny, with banks of windows and high ceilings and exposed brick walls.
“I want to remodel this into a loft apartment. I’d like this to be our home, Charlie. What do you think? Try to envision it with hardwood floors, a stainless steel kitchen, a big open living area….”
It was empty except for a few pieces of construction equipment, some lumber, a couple piles of palettes. But it was so easy to imagine a beautiful apartment in this big, sunny space. I took him in my arms and said, “I can totally see it. This place is absolutely wonderful.”
“I’m so glad you like it.” He kissing me again, then pulled back and looked at me with a hint of nervousness. “Want to help me christen our new home?”
“How do we do that, exactly?”
He grinned and took my hand, and led me across the room. And there on the floor behind the stacks of palettes was a king size mattress with crisp white sheets and fluffy pillows, and a bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket with two glasses beside it.
I laughed at that and said playfully, “So you’ve brought me here to seduce me.”
“Well, not exactly.” He sank down on a corner of the mattress and looked up at me. “I’ve brought you here so you can seduce me.”
I went and knelt beside him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I want you to fuck me, Charlie.”
“But, you don’t do that.”
“I know. But I want to give this to you. I know you’ve never topped, and I want you to get to experience what it’s like to be inside another man.”
“What brought this on?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. The way we have sex is totally according to my rules, my formula. That may be the only way I can fuck, but that’s not the only way we can have sex.”
“Are you sure about this? You seem nervous.”
“Giving up control isn’t something I do easily. Or, you know – at all. But I love you and trust you, Charlie. And if you think you want this, I’m prepared to give myself to you.”
“Dante,” I murmured, and kissed him deeply.
I pushed him onto his back on the mattress, laying partly on top of him, and kept kissing him as I ran a hand down his hard, strong body. He remained uncharacteristically passive, resting his hands on my waist.
I pulled off my clothes and stripped him slowly, watching his reactions, trying to gauge whether he was enjoying this or merely enduring it. His cock was semi-hard, but his expression was wary.
I kissed him again, then sat back on my heels and looked down at him. “This isn’t you, Dante.”
“I really do want this. I want you to fuck me.”
“I want that, too. But you don’t have to be so passive. And this doesn’t have to be sweet and romantic, either. That’s not how we fuck.”
Dante sat up and considered this for a moment. And then he said, “You may have a point there.” He grabbed me and flung me on my back on the mattress, climbing on top of me and kissing me savagely.
Instantly, desire spiked within me, and I grabbed him in a rough embrace as he rolled over, pulling me on top of him. He grabbed my ass with both hands as I ground my cock against his and shoved my tongue down his throat, and he thrust up underneath me.
We rolled over again, and I bit his shoulder as he fumbled around under the edge of the mattress, finally coming up with a little bottle of lubricant. “You really planned ahead,” I grinned.
He chuckled a little and tossed the bottle to me. “I did. No fucking way was I doing this without lube.”
We sat up, kind of straddling each other, his thighs over mine and his legs spread. I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him to me and claimed his mouth with a hard kiss, then reached down and took hold of his cock just as he took hold of mine. As we began jerking each other off, I asked, “You ever been fucked, Dante?”
He laughed and said, “Hell no. Who besides you would I ever let do that to me?”
“You ever had anything in you?” I flipped the little bottle of lube open with one hand.
“No. But I think I’m about to.” He grinned at me as I drizzled the clear liquid over his cock and balls, making sure plenty was running between his legs. He let go of my cock for a moment and ran his palm over his slick shaft to pick up some lube, then went back to stroking me.
I grinned too, jerking his now slick cock with one hand while reaching between his legs with the other. I leaned down and took his nipple in my mouth and sucked it, then bit down a little as the tip of my finger found his opening and pushed inside.
He laughed again. “Interesting distraction technique, biting me so I don’t notice the – ahhhhh,” he moaned as I twisted my finger and pushed it deep inside him.
“Less talking, more moaning,” I said with a grin as I pumped his cock and crooked my finger inside him, looking for his prostate. It was pretty damn obvious when I found it, his back arching as he grabbed onto me with his free hand.
“Holy shit,” he gasped.
“Good?”
“So fucking good.”
I fingered him for a while as I licked and bit his earlobe, and then worked a second finger into him. “Oh fuck,” he murmured, thrusting his ass onto my hand, and I finger fucked him until I felt him open up.
I pulled out and tipped him back onto his elbows, his thighs still over mine, and grabbed the lube, kind of making a mess with it as I shook with anticipation. I lubed my cock and positioned the tip at his opening, and looked him in the eye.
Dante grinned at me and said, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
“It was your idea.” I was grinning too. “And this is your last chance to back out.”
“Hell no. Fuck me, Charlie.”
“Yes sir.” Eyes locked with his, I eased my cock into his body. He grunted and gritted his teeth, but he wasn’t about to cry out. Not this tough guy.
I slid into him with one long, slow push, and then held still for a moment. When I saw some of the tension in his shoulders ease, and once he let out a long exhale, I started moving in him. It felt amazing. His warm, tight hole milked my cock as I thrust into him. I trie
d to go slowly, tried to give him time to adjust. But then Dante dropped onto his back and grabbed my ass with both hands, pulling me into him. Message received. I started pounding him, hard, and he murmured, “Fuck yes,” as he reached between us and stroked his cock with one hand, the other hand still firmly gripping my ass.
As much as I wanted to make it last, it just felt too damn good to hold out for long, and after just a few minutes I announced, “Oh God, I’m gonna cum.” I pumped Dante’s hole almost violently, crying out as I shot into him.
“Fuck yes Charlie, cum in me,” he ground out, rocking his hips up off the mattress to meet my thrusts, drawing every last drop from my balls.
And when I was spent, Dante grabbed me in his arms and rolled us over so he was on top of me and kissed me hungrily. I was still inside him. My hands slid to his gorgeous ass as he began to lick and nibble my neck, my shoulder. He slid down my body, which pulled my cock out of his little hole, and sucked and bit my nipples until they were hard. He was wasting no time revving me right back up again.
Dante grabbed the lube and poured it over his fingers, then slid his middle finger inside me to the last knuckle, so he was cupping my ass with the rest of his hand. I made that embarrassing sound that happened sometimes, almost a purr, as I wiggled my ass on his hand, and Dante grinned and said, “Good kitty.” My laugh turned into a moan of pleasure when he started finger fucking me roughly.
He handed me the lube and said, “Here, hold this.” And then he jumped up and pulled me to my feet, and I yelped in surprise as he lifted me onto his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. I grinned as I said, “It never ceases to amaze me that you can actually lift me.”
“You’re not heavy, angel,” he told me as he crossed the big open loft with me.
“Maybe not to you.”
He’d brought me over to a construction site at one end of the space, and paused to survey the lumber and equipment. “So many options,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. He slapped my ass, and my cock jumped.