Chapter 288: Be A Good Boy And Listen
Chapter 288: Be A Good Boy And Listen
Camilla
"I need your…. what did you call it again?" Gregorio said with a lopsided grin, his hand pausing just above my ass.
"Yes, your festivities in the kitchen please." He was mocking me with his dick.
"My festivity is what keeps things interesting in this house. Without me you wouldn't know the joys of watching Micheal Buble's. It is beginning to look a lot more like Christmas, I swear." I end with a dramatic scoff, playfully shoving him away from me.
"Hey, you would be proud, you didn't even ask why I am here by the way." He says as he plucks the book straight from my hand, not giving me a chance to take it back before he was up and off the bed.
Hiding it up high in the air like an absolute child, I sat up with a sigh, knowing I was going to give in no matter how hard I protested otherwise.
"Okay fine, what is that you need my spirit so desperately for?" I cave, Gregorio acting as though those few seconds had wasted so much of his time.
"Well, you see…. I bought Domenico a personalized apron a few years ago and he said the day he would wear it is the day I agreed to bake something with him again."
In other news, when pigs fly.
"So I figured since I took a bullet for you and all, you owe me enough to endure my suffering by baking by my side." I am shot a smug grin while all I can do is laugh.
"Why do I feel like you skipped over the personalized part too quickly?" His following look is all I needed to know.
"It may or may not say Daddy's Little Chef in bold white lettering across the front."
I shoot him a blank stare, he mirrors me. The deafening silence between us is more than enough, followed by my outburst of giggles at the thought of Domenico being Adriano's aka Daddy's Little sous-chef in the kitchen.
"You didn't," I gasp through my cackles, realizing this is the hardest I have laughed in months.
"Oh I did and if you don't save me with your presence, Domenico might actually skin me this time."
"Well how can I deny an offer as great as this?" I muse with a shake of my head before flicking him away with my hand.
"Now, give me my book and I will be down after this chapter."
Even after he left, though. I couldn't read a single sentence, I was busy grinning like a goddamned idiot.
******
Adriano POV.
Her sharp squeal of amusement brings a smile to my face, a second I haven't heard in all too long. With her hair tied up and her hands trying to cover her grin, Camilla has never looked more beautiful. With a proper diet and exercise, she has been able to gain back some of her weight, the dark circles under her eyes beginning to fade. Our girl was healing and I simply couldn't imagine a better sight.
"Ah, give us a twirl!" She smiled as Domenico shows off his specialized apron before concluding things with a bow, knowing he secretly loves it even if Gregorio was just trying to fuck with him.
"Good boy," I shot him a wink with a laugh creeping out of my throat, earning myself a smack and a shove against my chest before I could step out of his way.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Camilla walking over to the counter where the stools were, clearly mistaken that she was here to watch and observe. Just before her ass dropped into the chair, Gregorio's arms wrapped around her midsection and lifted her up, earning us all a shocked yet excited giggle.
"I told you you were going to suffer with me, silky girl." He shakes his head before dropping her between Domenico and I, an apron of her own being tossed over her head only second later.
She looked cute like this and ever so slightly disheveled, offering the perfect combination of adorable and fuckable.
"If you don't quit your drooling, we are never going to get to see Gregorio kill himself over these cookies." Domenico snaps me out of it even though the bastard was probably thinking the same damn thing.
He does have a point though. Gregorio was leaning against the counter behind us in his calm, pretty boy manner, hoping that Camilla could distract us enough to keep him from the pains of cracking an egg or some shit. If only he knew. Our mother's favorite recipe for native macarons is going to send him to hell and back and we were just going to ignore the fact that it brings back memories of our father's dead-undead mother.
I felt a finger brushed gently against mine, immediately pulling me back from some of the darker thoughts that began to travel through my vision. Camilla wasn't looking at me but she had picked up on my sudden shift anyways, subtly reminding me I wasn't on my own anymore. I had a family even if it wasn't officially complete yet.
Soon we all fell into the motion of baking together and it was easier than breathing. Gregorio grew miserable within seconds of Domenico making him crack all of the eggs, having him scope out each individual fallen eggshells while he swore at them for slipping through the fork.
Camilla and I stuck to laughing in the corner while we made actual Christmas cookies, having insisted on making sugar cookies so she could decorate them afterwards. She surprisingly wasn't all that bad with the proper instructions to guide her through, Gregorio unfortunately couldn't relate. I am pretty sure he was kicking up a big fuss just to make Camilla smile which he was regularly succeeding at but whatever his reasons were, it was an afternoon I wouldn't forget.
Just as Gregorio no- so-calmly moved on to make his second batch of meringue since he burned the first one, our cookies had just reached a cooling point where they were ready to be iced to her beautiful heart's desire.
"Come on," Camilla draws with her hips leaning against the counter, arms crossed over her chest.
I watched with a knowing look as Gregorio does his best to avoid her eyes, practically pouting in the corner at this point.
"No," he shakes his head but we all knew what he wanted didn't matter, especially when our whole world revolved around this one girl.
"Gregorio," she narrowed her eyes.
"Camilla," he copied.
I was actually surprised by how long he has lasted under her demanding stare, even as she pushed herself off the counter while I shot Domenico an amused look.
"Fifty," he mouthed before nodding to Camilla, betting that she was going to cave first in this unspoken battle and my scoffing followed.
"Hundred," I smirked before turning back to watch how things were going to play out, watching the way Gregorio's hand clenched with the need to either spank her or kiss her.
Domenico may have a knack at reading people but he didn't know about the time my princess told me to get on my knees before she rode me against the tiled floor of our shower. Our girl wasn't as innocent as she appeared.
My eyes traveled over to where Camilla's pointer finger was sweeping through the thin layer of flour across the counter, slowly making her way over to Gregorio and I couldn't help but notice the gentle smile on her face. It was teasing, sultry and wicked. Hooking her finger under Gregorio's chin and moving him to look at her, her expression grew sweet before she whispered.
"Be a good boy and listen to Domenico. Give baking a shot, for me?"
The puppy dog eyes that followed really weren't necessary but before Gregorio could even recover, she took that same pointer finger from before and booped his nose. She quite literally said boop out loud as the dusting of flour glided out over his cheeks and top lip, her smile growing by a million.
"Greg," I sighed as I saw him reach his hand into the bag of flour but all I could do was stare at the scene that was about to unfold.
Camilla got about a step away before a massive handful of powder landed on top of her head, dousing her in white while the bag itself tipped over from the chaoticness of it all. It took about five long seconds before retaliation hit and Domenico and I darted in to try and save some semblance of our once organized kitchen.
"Oh, you are dead." She growled in faux anger before tossing it back at him in a flurry, the most beautiful smile brightening her entire face.
I watched as Domenico hit with the residue of it landing across his chest and forearms. The disaster has already been made at this point and when Gregorio purposefully threw a handful of flour at the back of my head, the mess suddenly didn't matter anyways.
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