“Right now ...” she trails off, suddenly hesitating, as if I didn’t already notice the desire in her eyes.
“Go ahead,mi reina,” I urge her to continue.
She sighs, as if mentally surrendering to me before she parts her lips to speak. “I want answers, but I’m not stupid. You aren’t going to give those to me, not yet anyway. But the answers I seek have somehow become less about you and more about me.”
“How so?” I ask, wanting her to spill her guts to me before giving me the opportunity I so desperately need to rearrange hers.
“I don’t know who you are or why you called me here. I should care, but I don’t.” She pauses, and I can sense the hesitation in her voice. She takes a deep breath in this time, giving off an aura of liberation instead of angst. “I want you to breathe me in like the smoke that filters into your mouth daily. Except, when you exhale, take the pain that has fractured my soul away with it,” she blurts, suddenly seeming relieved.
Oh, how I want nothing more.
Before I can muster up a response to her poetic lust, my attention is pulled when the familiar squeak of the hardwood presents itself before a dreaded knock at the door.
I have been so lost in Sienna’s presence that I keep forgetting Eric is still fucking here. At first, it was just to toy with him, let him see that what he once had is his no longer. But I am sure Sienna’s moans that echoed through the brownstone confirmed that already.
“Yes, Eric?” I answer.
Eric mumbles through the door. Irritated, I interrupt him.
“Open the door when you need to speak to me, Mr. Mendez,” I peck at him.
He slides open the pocket door with an irritation that matches mine. Except, while my eyes are peering at his, waiting to hear what it is that he needed to interrupt us for, I can’t help but notice his eyes immediately look at how the warm glow of the fire illuminates Sienna’s beauty.
Breaking him out of the trance Sienna unintentionally has him in, I snap, “Mr. Mendez, what is it?”
He waits for a second, as if he didn’t think this whole scenario through before interrupting us. Shaking his head, he snaps out of it, directing his gaze to mine. “You have a phone call.”
I’m perplexed because I didn’t hear the house phone ring. Truthfully, it barely ever rings, because not many people know of the brownstone, and landlines, really, in today’s age? It’s just a backup, one that I am regretting as of this moment.
It’s then that I search my pants pocket for my cell phone. I grasp it, immediately putting my businessman hat back on. I have been so swept up in the plans I have for Sienna I almost forgot the actual work that needs to be done.
I hit the side button of my cell phone, which illuminates the lock screen, displaying five missed calls from Alex. Shit. He must be pissed. I then turn my phone to the side and realize that I had my phone on silent by accident.
“Very well, thank you,” I say, backing down from the anger I feel toward him.
He nods but still hangs in the doorway. I look back at Sienna, who is looking down at her hands, which she can’t stop fidgeting with.
“Please, make yourself at home, I will be right back.” I head toward the doorway that Eric still stands in, waiting. For what he is waiting for, I don’t know, but I am no longer in need of him this evening. I will see to it that Ms. Ricci gets to where she needs to be this evening myself.
I walk past him as he turns, still there in the doorway, but with his attention fixed on me when I say, “You can come back in two hours to pick up Ms. Ricci. Your services are no longer needed inside the brownstone for Ms. Ricci, I will take care of her.”
Chapter28
Sienna
The heat radiating from the fireplace behind me is nothing compared to the inferno that I feel brewing inside, as made evident by my flushed cheeks. Anger swirls inside of me as I can literally feel the judgment oozing from Eric’s reprimanding glare. His eyes are locked on me as he remains just outside the door, even though Carmine dismissed him before running off to see whoever called him. Eric’s glare doesn’t dissipate, instead, it only intensifies as he stands there, waiting for me to say something.
Another moment passes in this strange stare-off we find ourselves in.
“I’m fine, Eric,” I say. Not exactly riveting and arguably vague, but it’s something. I, of course, don’t tell him that I am, in fact, more than fine, but I think he can put two and two together from the guttural sounds of pleasure that echoed off the rich, wood-bordered walls in Carmine’s brownstone.
Just the thought of the way Carmine had me in his mouth makes me grin as I feel a slight pulse resurface between my legs.
“I gathered that,” he scoffs. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he threatens.
“Warn me of what?” I ask as I cross my arms.
“Him. He wants something from you,” he says before rolling his eyes and heading out.
