He released a quiet chuckle. “I thought the same thing about you.”
“That I’m stubborn?” I asked incredulously.
“The most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”
“I’m notthatstubborn.”
“It’s okay. I like it,” he said. “I love a proud woman. Everything about you turns me the fuck on. The way you push me away one moment and then pull me hard into you when you’re about to come…I love it all.”
I couldn’t believe he said that in the middle of a restaurant, but I guessed I could believe it too. I felt a flush in my cheeks and took a drink of my wine to cover it.
“Not sure how I’m going to fuck you when we get home. Any ideas?”
God, he was so pompous and arrogant and full of himself…and I loved it. “Ass up and face down.”
He didn’t actually move, but his entire body stilled after a subtle clench. His eyes hardened too, like he was shocked, but then they relaxed once more. His surprise turned to something else, like he was enamored. “Whatever my baby wants.”
“I’m not your baby.”
“We’ll see.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at me with eyes full of unequivocal confidence. Cocked his head slightly as he looked at me, a ghost of a smile on his lips, like he wanted me to challenge him. Wanted a heated back-and-forth exchange that he wouldn’t lose.
“You don’t even know me.”
“Then tell me everything about you.” He cocked his head the other way. “I’m listening.”
“You still know more about me than I do you.”
“What do you want to know, Francesca?”
“The basics. How old are you? Where were you born? What got you into this business?”
“Thirty-three. Palermo. And I was born into it.”
“So your father was a crime boss?”
“No, that’s too generous a description. His brother got him into Cosa Nostra, so he was one of the fixers. Was with him since I could walk, so it’s literally all I know. Which is probably why I’m the best.”
“What about your mom?”
“She died before she had the opportunity to know me.”
“May I ask how?”
“She was murdered,” he said simply. “She was a prostitute.”
“Oh…I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked. “That she died or because she was a prostitute?”
“I’m just sorry about the whole thing.”
“There’s no shame in being a prostitute. The profession’s been around since the dawn of time. Most of the men who condemn it are paying customers. The problem is the assholes who think they can use them as punching bags or personal property just because they gave them a little bit of cash.”
It was obvious this was a touchy subject for him, so I decided not to say anything.
He grabbed his wineglass and took a drink. “Anything else?”
“Have you ever been married?”
