“Art, sole mio, I hate-love you more than anything in this fucking world, but I kneel for no man.”
He pouts again, crossing his arms in front of his chest like the brat he is. I grab his ass and lift him up, forcing his arms and legs to wrap around me and pressing our chests together.
“Don’t ever leave me or else you’ll feel my wrath,” he whispers brokenly on my lips.
“I wouldn’t want to be hit with an ashtray,” I murmur, making him shake his head.
“Does it mean you will adopt Nacho, too?” he suddenly asks me.
I look down at the horny beast having his way with one of my boots.
“The humping machine?” I point at the dog’s rocking pelvis.
“I saw you cooing at him before you left for Boston.” He raises a challenging brow at me.
“I was ordering him to stay away from my stuff.”
“You let him lick your chin,” he insists.
I glare at him, just like I glared at that satanic dog after he used his tongue on me.
“Nacho is just like me, you’ll hate-love him soon enough.” He gives me his best patronizing eyes.
Exasperation urges me to squeeze my eyes shut for a moment before I look back at his face again. “Are you serious? I’m telling you to marry me, and all you’re talking about is the humping creature.”
“No, I’m thinking about your big balls, too. I’ll legally own them if we get married.” He tries to grab them, but the koala position doesn’t allow it, so after a few seconds, he gives up.
Ifwe get married?Jesus fucking Christ! My blood is suddenly pumping too fast while I glower at him.
“We will get married. Who owns whom here, you little brat?” I bark.
“Wow, and the proposal gets better by the minute.”
“How about this? You owe me a wish,” I remind him of the time we were in the warehouse and he promised me a wish for my birthday. “I wish you’ll say yes to my marriage proposal.”
“Wha…? Honey keeps dripping from your lips,” he snaps sarcastically, sinking his teeth into my chin.
I hiss at the sting.
I’m driving myself off the cliff of insanity. Willingly. With a big fucking smile on my face.
Seb lights the joint and takes a drag, holding it in for a second before letting the smoke out.
“Is this the shit you do when you come to work?” Art asks, looking cautiously outside the window of Seb’s office.
“When there’s a new batch of weed, we sample it,” Seb explains, passing the blunt to Marco. He’s sitting behind his desk as usual, while we are on the armchairs on the other side. Two chairs have been added for Fly and Art.
It’s still sort of weird to see Seb in this office, behind Don Massimo’s desk, maybe because he didn’t change anything. It still looks like his father left it. Everything in this house does.
“Nice. Let me partake, I’m well acquainted with Mary Jane.” Art ignores his chair and drops his ass on my lap as Marco gives me the joint.
He goes for it, but I don’t let him take it from my fingers. I grab his chin, take a puff without moving my eyes from his, and blow it into his mouth. Fly giggles and Marco huffs. Seb doesn’t say anything, but he must feel uneasy about the lip touching. I pay no attention to anyone else but Art and his lust-filled expression.
“This is first-grade weed,” Art says. “I could clean my ass with the crap my…Jack Enzino deals.”
Seb nods. “I invested in the development of a new breed, and this is the result.”
The two college kids who created it are now living the high life in Barbados, sending him postcards now and then.