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“You need to eat.”
He nodded, and I walked to the kitchen without looking back again.
18
Lane
I was falling hard for Giorgio, but he was never going to love me back. He would give me more of the hottest sex I’d ever had, but I wasn’t sure he could open up enough to love me or let me love him, and that fucking sucked.
He said you were his.
He had, but what did that mean to him? Did it mean I was his obligation? I knew he would protect me no matter what, but he surely hadn’t meant he wanted to be in a relationship with me. When he was inside me, when he was bringing me so much pleasure I thought I might die from it, I knew I didn’t want him to walk away when his job was done. I wouldn’t be his client anymore, but I knew that wasn’t his only hesitation.
I decided to take a quick shower before going to see what he was making for lunch. I wasn’t going to be able to listen to what he had to say if I smelled like his cum.
When I was clean, I dressed in fresh clothes, black jeans, and a hot pink shirt that looked really good with my skin tone. I’d considered putting on my painting clothes because I planned to work after we talked, but I needed to look my best for what I expected would be a confrontation.
When I stepped out of the bedroom, I saw Giorgio making sandwiches at the counter. He was still shirtless, and his jeans hugged his hips and molded to his ass. They were old and worn, and he looked hot as hell in them. I stepped back into the bedroom and grabbed his sweater.
“Put this on,” I said when I walked into the kitchen. “I can’t talk to you like that.”
He turned toward me, looking confused until he saw the shirt in my hand.
“You’re fucking hot, and it’s distracting.”
“And yet, I’m supposed to look at you in that?” He gave me a once-over before taking the sweater and pulling it over his head.
He turned back to the counter, and I didn’t say anything else. The tension in the room was so thick it was hard to breathe. Things had felt so right between us when he’d been fucking me, even when he’d spanked and tormented me. It was like our bodies knew how to behave with each other, but when we had to interact like rational adults who needed to talk through something serious, neither of us knew what to say.
I doubted he was used to talking about his feelings at all. And while I talked a lot, it was rarely about anything serious unless I was talking about art.
He brought two plates with sandwiches and chips to the table. “What do you want to drink? Beer? Water? Soda?”
“Beer. I feel like I’m going to need it.”
He grabbed two bottles from the fridge and joined me at the table. “Thank you for making lunch. I should have offered to help.”
He smiled. “I thought you were used to being catered to.”
“I live alone without a single servant to arrange my life for me.”
“I guess that means you don’t get regular meals since you don’t cook.”
He was right, my eating schedule was as fucked up as my sleeping. “Um… I get by. “
He huffed. “You need to take care of yourself.”
“Do you? Somehow I’m not convinced you live a healthy lifestyle.”
“I was in the army for years, and I’ve never managed to break the early-rising habit. I like routine to my days, but I can manage without it. I had to learn to be flexible. “
“How long were you in the army?”
He shook his head. “That’s not what we should be talking about.”
“I told you I was sorry. I’ll let you know where I’m going next time.”
He shook his head. “You will not walk away from me.”
“I only went to the shop next door.”
“Do you have any idea how quickly someone could grab you?”
“Have you had a client taken before?”
A pained expression crossed his face. “Not exactly.”
What did that mean? “Did you have to learn a lot about kidnapping to be a bodyguard?”
He seemed to be considering how to answer that.
“What did you do in the army?”
“You don’t need to know about that. If you need to search for art supplies again, tell me, and we’ll do it together. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not supposed to tell you this. Your mother and my boss don’t want to frighten you, but I need you to understand why this matters.”
My heart pounded. I knew I wasn’t going to like whatever he was about to say.
“Two men Alan dated before you are dead. Supposedly, both deaths were accidental, but the circumstances and timing are suspicious.”
My stomach churned, threatening to bring up the few bites of sandwich I’d eaten. “Do you think he killed them?”
