We stare at each other, a million unspoken words passing between us as the usual desire is replaced by something more intimate. An unbreakable bond that creates more warmth inside my soul.
He passes me the boba cup, waits until I drink a little, and then sets it back on the nightstand. Then he tosses a piece of fruit into his mouth and pulls me up near his face to kiss me. It tastes like apple and Luca and happiness. This is a new favorite.
When he pulls back, I want to lean into him and kiss more, but we have to go. I’d prefer to stay with him in bed all day, watching old movies and fighting about trivial stuff, but I want to go to Don Sebastiano’s house. It’s my first invitation, and I’m so freaking curious about the icycapo. I also need to tell him something. I’m still deciding about it, though.
Luca finds the pendant and gives it a kiss. Then he slaps my ass before rolling us both out of bed. He pushes me toward the walk-in closet.
“I need another shower,” I let him know.
“No, you don’t,” he rumbles in my ear. I look back, his eyes are flaring at whatever he sees on my face.
“Yeah? You going all caveman on me again?” I ask, not able to stifle my smile.
He grunts in response. “I want my scent on you today. I’ll keep yours, too.” He drops the sexy bomb and moves to the bathroom—followed by Nacho.
Bossy and possessive—me likey…until I don’t and we argue and I find myself stuffed with cock. I’m having the best life ever. My old man is still out there, the fucking roach, but I’ve never feltsafer. I’m okay. It will be okay, I can honestly believe it because I’m free. I’m finally free.
I look at my clothes neatly hung on one side of the closet and smile, remembering when I complained to Luca about them getting wrinkly in my bag. Now my shit is nicely folded next to his in the drawers, sometimes mixed. I’m still a slob—one of the things I’m repeatedly punished for.
I take my time and choose the perfect outfit for today. A pair of blood-red panties and a matching bra, dark jean shorts with a black cotton sweater that leaves my shoulders bare. I finish it all with ankle biker boots.
“Can you come here?” I call when I hear him back in the bedroom.
“Why?” he asks instead of doing as I say. Fucker. Nacho does, though, and I pat his small head.
“I want a smooch.” Yes, I’m being clingy. No, I don’t give a fuck. The sight of my clothes next to his just makes me giggle like a girl who has a crush on her English teacher—which, I actually did, and fucked him five years later when I met him at a bar.
“You’ll have one when you stop using my toothbrush,” he retorts.
Ugh! He could give me a wad of chewed gum, and I’d love it. But I can’t use his toothbrush?
“You’re the worst. Kiss rescinded!” I dress up and walk back into the bedroom. Luca suddenly blocks my path, giving me a severe look.
“You need to put on a pair of jeans.”
“My shorts are made of jeans.”
“Long jeans,” he growls.
“It’s hot outside,” I insist, not understanding his insistence. “I have smooth legs like butter, why would I cover them?” I snort.
He groans angrily. I’d like to tell him to change too, but he looks delicious in his dark gray jacket, anthracite shirt, and black jeans. And his hair tied back, locks falling on his temples? God, why is he so handsome?
“I don’t want people staring at them,” he snaps.
His jealousy makes me feel so wanted and sexy and loved. Wrong and unhealthy—again, don’t give a fuck.
“What people?” I look around, fucking with him.
A large hand wraps around my throat and pulls my body against his. Oh, yes! I almost melt, feeling his other hand sliding over my thigh and into my shorts. The movement is slow and purposely sensual. My sated dick seems to like it a bit too much. That won’t do since we have a place to go. But when his thumb moves under my panties and brushes my wet hole, I forget about everything.
“Cover them up, or I’ll tie you to the bed again and leave you here until I come back.”
My eyes pop open as I process his words. “Don’t you dare! I’m the guest of honor.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Then you know what you need to do.”
Seriously? Are we still on that? He stares, and I scoff.