The Secret Guardian

Jealous Fabio

FABIO

ONE WEEK LATER

I ran at the lake for the majority of Saturday in an effort to clear my head and get some fresh air and distance. Even still, I had plenty of time during the hour-long journey with my parents who wanted to visit me to think about all of my issues, including Cassandra—or should I call her Cassy—how much I despised about the things I did with her and how much I for craved her, and the roses Conor sent, that totally made me jealous.

I attempted to let the calming sound of the motor engine soothe me as I leant back more in the seat. It wasn't functioning.

Yes. My brother Conor met her at my place last week, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he has some unethical thoughts about Cassy.

So, let's face it—and I'm going to acknowledge this—I felt possessive of her. In a way that involves "hitting her over the head, dragging her off by the hair, and f*****g her," not in a romantic sense.

As if I was keeping the other guys in the sandbox from playing with her because she was my toy. How dreadful was that? She would cut off my balls and feed them to me if she ever overheard me admitting that.

How to move forward was now in doubt. Yes, I brought her home with me, but after spending a week with her, I haven't mentioned dating her or setting up a relationship with her. We simply agreed to have s*x till dawn, regardless of whether or not I had empty balls afterwards.

I can claim for the time being that I almost forgot about my wife—my deceased wife.

Conor clearly had an interest with Cassy. Why wouldn't he be? He just had hearsay information from my caretakers, who adored her obviously, and I'm sure they had shown him at least one picture. I would also be intrigued if that were all I knew about her.

However, he knew he could never actually speak to her and still find her attractive.

Unless, of course, he only wanted to f**k her—and the thought of that slowly kills me.

I would be better off not thinking about it, I was informed by the sound of the leather steering wheel groaning under my hands.

If all he wanted was s*x, he wouldn't have consented to see her at my own house, would he? I thought about it.

Perhaps he genuinely did want to learn more about her. Hell, even I have to admit that I was a little curious even before we chatted. That, of course, had not lasted very long, and she had quickly established herself as one of the most annoying persons I had ever known. She was also the best s*x I'd ever had, which was unfortunate for me.

He better never advance that far, f**k. I wasn't sure where I would hide a body in this area.

______________________

So, my parents, Conor and our cousin, Mina came to visit me. When they met Cassy, I could tell they didn't like her, with the exception of Conor, who was giving her extra attention.

Quit making out with him...

They talked to each other as I tightened my hands. But after a while, I became frozen. Could it be so? | smiled into my drink. It was most obviously her foot moving up the leg of my pants.

Devious little minx stroking me while conversing with a man we both understood would never be able to please her. My c**k tightened as I watched her lips enclose around her fork and as her tongue moved slowly across them to scrape away the marinade that the fish had left behind.

Conor turned to face me and said, "Wow, top five percent of your class at Northwestern before? Nice!" "Bet you're delighted to have someone so wonderful working under you, huh?”

Yes, they believed I had brought a personal assistant or special nanny with me who could stay at home and eat meals with my family.

Cassy coughed a little and covered her mouth with her napkin by pulling it up from her lap. I grinned as I cast a quick glance her way before returning to Conor. Yes, Cassy is working under me is just incredible since she always completes the task… the task to satisfy my needs.

My mother gushed, "Aw, my dear Fabio. That is such a sweet thing of you to say," and I saw Cassandra's face start to flush. As soon as I felt her foot on my crotch, my smile disappeared. She then gently pressed up against my erection.

Holy crap. Now I was the one choking on my gimlet as I coughed.

She pretended worry, "Are you all right, Mr. Fabio Dera?" and I nodded while gazing at her with a dagger. She gave a shrug before turning back to face Conor.

"Are you from Sanchez Mira, by any chance?"

She continued to rub me gently with the toe of her shoe, and I made an effort to control my breathing and maintain a neutral expression. I observed her face change from one of false attention to one of genuine intrigue as Conor started telling her about his upbringing and attending our school until eventually discussing his prosperous accounting firm.

No way.

She jumped a little when my left hand made contact with her ankle skin as I slid it under the tablecloth. When she had to ask Joel to repeat himself, I made small finger movements and stroked my thumb up the arch of her foot, feeling increasingly arrogant.

But then he added that he'd want to have lunch with her this week. Her foot's top was now covered by my palm, which was now pressing harder against my c**k.

She laughed.

Conor smiled, his arm resting on the back of Cassy's chair, "You could spare her for a lunch break, couldn't you, Fabio?" It took everything I had not to rip that arm from his body by reaching across the table.

As she tapped my arm, Mina spoke, "Oh, speaking of lunch dates, Fabio. You met my friend Margaux last month at the house; she was in her mid-twenties, my height, with blond hair and blue eyes. She requested for your number; are you interested?”

I noticed Cassy's foot tendons tensing and turned to look at her while she waited for my response. I saw her swallow slowly. Yes, you're aware that I favour blondes, and it would be a great change of scenery.

Her heel buried itself into the ground, pinning my balls to the chair, and I had to hold myself from screaming. She removed the napkin from her lap and dabbed her mouth after holding them there for a while. "Excuse me, I have to use the restroom," you say.

My entire family scowled as soon as she entered the house.

at me.

Dad growled, "Fabio, my son,I believe we discussed this."

I reached for my glass and raised it to my mouth. I'm not sure what you're getting at.

My mother continued, "Fabio, I think you should go apologise."

I put my glass down a little too firmly and inquired, "For what?"

My father yelled angrily, "Fab!" cutting off discussion.

I pushed away from the table after tossing my napkin onto my plate. I quickly made my way through the home, examining the first two floors' restrooms before arriving at the third floor, where the bathroom door was locked.

I argued with myself while I was standing outside with my hand on the doorknob. What would happen if I entered that place?

I was only interested in one thing, and it most definitely wasn't making excuses. I considered knocking, but I was certain that she wouldn't open the door for me. I kept a close ear out for any sounds or signs of activity coming from inside. Nothing.

I turned the knob at last and was shocked to see that it was unlocked.

Since my mother had renovated it, I hadn't used this bathroom much. It was a stunning, contemporary space with a large mirror spanning one wall and a marble counter that was specially made. A tiny window above the vanity table provided a view of the grounds and patio below. She was gazing up at the sky while seated on the cushioned bench in front of the table.

"Here to grovel," she questioned. She removed the cap from her lipstick and applied it delicately to her lips.

I reached behind me to turn the lock on the bathroom door, the unmistakable click ringing in the still room, "I was sent to check on your delicate petal feelings."

She chuckled as we made eye contact in the mirror. She appeared absolutely calm, but I could see the rise and fall of her chest, indicating that she was just as agitated as I was.

She put the cap back on her lipstick and stuffed it into her purse, saying, "I assure you, I'm fine." She got up and walked by me towards the door. You've always been a pig to me.

Conor, however, appears friendly. I ought to go back downstairs, but I had my hand on the door and was leaning in to speak to her.

My lips barely touched her ear, and she shuddered, "I don't think so. You see, he wants some. He is not allowed to have something that belongs to me.”

“What time is it,” she scowled at me. “Two? I'll depart now.”

"You might think so, as if you can go far from here, babe.” I continued, ghosting my lips along the column of her neck, "but your body thinks otherwise," as I ran my hands beneath her skirt and pressed one palm against the soggy lace in between her legs.

My fingers made gentle, circular motions across her clit as her eyes closed and she spoke the words "Screw you."

I whispered against her neck, "Let me."

I grabbed each of her wrists and held them above her head, holding them prisoner in my own, bent to kiss her. I felt her fight weakly in my grip and I shook my head, tightening my hold. She gave out a faint chuckle, and I shoved her against the bathroom door.

"Let me," I said again, squeezing my c**k.

versus her.

"We can't do this here," she replied, tilting her head to the side so I could reach her neck.