I just have one matter to take care of first.
Returning the confidence a soon-to-be dead man stole from her.
26
VALENTINA
Pure hell. Gut-wrenching torment. That’s how I’d describe the last fifteen minutes of my life. But if I’m honest, I’d also admit it was the most uplifting confidence boost I’ve ever had.
Giovanni’s tongue is wicked, and not solely when it’s lapping up the multiple arousals he forces out of me in a short period.
It should have been a stretch to make me come once, but I stopped counting at four.
I feel good, and not all the sparks are compliments to Giovanni’s amazing cock and wicked mouth. Some are because I didn’t succumb to his demands at the start of our exchange. I was horny, there’s no doubting that, and seemingly submissive, but I could have thrown Valeria under the bus to save myself.
I didn’t because I have values—unlike her.
“Thank you,” I murmur under my breath when Giovanni hands me the underwear I removed earlier. I slip them up my shuddering legs as our SUV slowly merges toward the curb of the downtown district.
When the creak of the swinging sign at the front of the pubprojects through the tinted windows, I wait for the familiar weight of exhaustion to settle in my bones. I appreciate having the capability to work and that not everyone is as fortunate, especially when you only have a foreign bank account, but this place is as draining to my energy as the hours I spent walking the halls of the surgical ward, waiting to hear if my mother’s operation had been a success.
Alessandro is a misogynist pig. It takes everything I have not to slap him each shift, but I have to do this. If Valeria is right and Giovanni is only with me because he’s desperate for an heir, I need something to fall back on when my world once again implodes.
I hate myself for distrusting Giovanni’s motives, even more so after our awe-inspiring commute, but doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will.
When I crank my neck to Giovanni, not hazed enough with lust to consider stepping out while his glistening cock is still hanging out of his pants—I’m sexually satiated, not cured of jealousy—I’m met with an empty seat.
Confused, I dart my eyes between the individuals milling in close to admire a car that would have had a hefty import fee. When a pink hue creeps up the necks of a handful of women, I realize they’re not envying a gleaming chunk of metal.
Giovanni is in their sights.
Because I raked my fingers through his hair, it’s tousled in a sexy I-woke-up-like-this way, and his pupils, dilated with lust, appear darker than usual. He screams of wealth and sexuality, and every woman eyeing him like a tiger would a steak knows he fucks like a god. His arrogant strut announces this, much less the scent pluming from him. It’s sweaty and sweet, a combination of us both.
Before I can process why I’m not gouging out the eyes of the women gawking with want, Giovanni opens the door for me. His gentlemanly act shocks the women surrounding him. I’m not at all surprised. Giovanni speaks fondly of his father, and my mother has always said to pick a man by the traits of his father.
If he’s a good, honest man, you’ve found yourself a good, honest man.
If he’s a snake in tall grass, run.
My grandfather on my father’s side was the latter.
When Giovanni holds out his hand to assist me out, I roll my eyes. It’s all an act. A smile is tugging at my lips, and I can feel my pulse raging through my body.
Confusion sideswipes my euphoria about his old-fashioned courtesy when he shuts the door behind me before he guides me under the pub’s alcove. Assuming he’s as traditional with his farewells as he is with common courtesies, I press my lips to his cheek and mouth,Bye.
Again, he doesn’t leave. He simply smirks, and the crowd flocks closer.
Although I’m seconds away from acting like a possessive jerk, I keep my tone impassive while saying, “You don’t have to stay. I can take it from here.”
He sees straight through my lie. “Do you need another detour,dolcezza?”
Detour?
My throat burns when I glance at his watch. A lot more time has passed than I believed.
Now I know why those fifteen minutes felt like the longest fifteen minutes of my life.
It was closer to an hour.
