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“Typical,” I remark.
“What?” Luca turns around.
“Typical man, leaving the toilet seat up.” I point my head to the evidence. “Now who is being unhygienic?” I raise my brows. “Did you know that waste particles get sprayed through the air when you flush without the lid, and the bacteria can live on surfaces for months?”
Luca stares at me like I've lost my mind before replying, “Good thing we are not staying here for long then.” With that comment, he starts to remove his shirt. I can’t help but gawk. His entire torso is littered with tattoos. Names, pictures, symbols. I recognize the one that is placed over his heart as the Valsetti family crest. I am not normally into guys with tats, but the unmistakable outline of well-toned muscles underneath the ink is a masterpiece in itself. I am so busy staring at the top half of him I don’t even notice him stripping off the bottom half until he moves to turn the shower on.
“Your cheeks are turning the same color as your hair, red.” He chuckles as he steps under the spray. “Haven't you seen a naked man before? Or is it my impressive cock that has you getting all wet?”
His comment has me snapping back to attention. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Liar, I look away, trying to hide my embarrassment but find myself slowly looking back up. I can’t help it; he is the most incredible specimen I have ever laid eyes on. Stunning olive skin, long slender legs, defined muscles in places I didn’t even know was possible. He has the perfect dusting of hair in all the right places, and those tattoos have my ovaries near exploding.
I watch him as he lathers himself in creamy suds and washes his hands over his body. I find myself sliding down the door to come to a sit, making myself more comfortable for the show. His eyes are closed, thank God, allowing me to soak up the beauty of this man as the water cascades over his face like he is a friggin demigod.
I lick my lips, watching the water trickle over his chest and down his stomach, tracing the lines of the perfect V of his groin muscle to his….Oh. My. God. Scarlet. Stop it!
Forcing myself to look away, I concentrate on the pattern of the hideous bathroom tiles. My mind, however, replays the image of his quiet remarkable-sized cock. I hear the water stop and look up.
“Enjoy the show?” Luca asks confidently.
Smug bastard. “Actually, I am not going to lie, you have an incredible body, but knowing who you are and the things you have done makes you ugly, right down to the bones.”
Luca wraps a towel around his lean waist, then runs a hand through his wet hair before leaning down to me. His expression is calm and neutral like I hadn’t even said a word. It’s scary as shit. I find myself holding my breath, waiting for the blow as he reaches forward. I close my eyes tightly, cowering, wishing to all the gods I had just kept my mouth shut. Then I feel his hands on me, untying the rope. A few seconds later, my hands fall loose. When I finally open my eyes, his rich carob eyes are staring back at me. They don’t look angry, insulted, or sad. They look tired and absent.
“Your turn.” He stands, offering me his hand to help me up from the floor. Once I am standing, he doesn’t linger or speak. I’d honestly expected him to demand I give him a show in my birthday suit, but instead, he just walks past me, opens the door, and closes it behind him.
Eleven
Luca
She has been in the shower for thirty goddamn minutes. I am so fucking tired; I just want to go to sleep. What the hell is she even doing? We are not exactly at a five-star hotel where free soaps and luscious shampoos are readily available.
“If you're in there much longer, red, you're going to grow gills,” I yell out, and a long minute later, the water stops. It is another twenty minutes before the door opens, and a damp-haired, fresh-faced Scarlet emerges. She has a clean t-shirt on and a pair of baggy pajama bottoms.
I’m in bed already, and I see the confusion and denial in her eyes as they dart back and forth between me and the empty space on the bed next to me.
“I am not sleeping in the same bed as you.” She huffs with her hands on her hips, making it a dramatic show. “Especially when you're naked.”
“Well, I am not sleeping on the floor,” I reply, not advising her that I have my boxers on.
“Fine, I will. She walks over to the bed, grabbing a pillow. I lean forward and snatch her arm, looping the rope I’d pre-tied earlier around her wrist and pull it tight. Her mouth opens wide as she sucks in a breath, realizing she is now tied to me.
“As I said before, I don’t trust you, so while I sleep in the bed, so do you.” I pull on the rope, causing her to fall forward and onto the bed. She tries to pull away, so I adjust the length of rope between us, and it pulls her closer to me.
“Hmm, cosy,” I mock, biting my lip, trying not to laugh. The pout on her face is comical.
Her breathing is rapid, and I can practically hear it thumping inside her chest cavity. “Do I frighten you, red?” I ask, feeling my cock stir at the thought of her on her hands and knees begging me to free her.
“Yes, you do. If you are capable of murder, kidnapping, and indecent exposure, I can only imagine what else you’re capable of.”
My back stiffens at her words. “I am no rapist, Scarlet. Let’s get that fucking clear! And now who’s the one flattering themselves? What the hell makes you think I’d want to fuck you? You are on my hit list, sweetheart, not the hit on list,” I snap back at her, watching her wince a little at the harshness of my words. She should learn how to take as well as she gives. “I am tired, red, and when I get tired, I get cranky. So, do us both a favor and shut up and go to fucking sleep.”
She abruptly turns her back to me. The rope pulls on my arm, forcing me to turn towards her.
“The curtains are open, so the sun is in my eyes.” She huffs.
“Well, whose fault is that?”
“You're such a prick.”
