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"I’m all of those, and also, if we stay here talking, I’m going to bend you over again. And this time, I’m going to bury myself inside you. And then, I won’t be able to stop myself until I’ve had you over and over again."
“That sounds like a great idea.” Her eyes light up.
“No, you wanted to go out, and we’re going out.”
Her breathing grows erratic, and a shiver runs down her body. "Why is it, everything you say turns me on?"
I raise my gaze to the ceiling. "Now,she admits it." Turning her around, I point her in the direction of her bedroom. "Go on, get dressed. I'll meet you downstairs when you’re ready."
Half an hour later, I open the door of my Maserati, and usher her inside. I walk around and slide into the driver’s seat. "It’s still too cold to drive with the top down, but come summer, I promise you’re in for a treat."
"Oh, this is already a treat." She glances around the interior of the car with wide eyes. She runs her hand down the leather of the seat, across the console, andcazzo, I swear I can feel her touch on my skin. My cock thickens, and heat flushes my chest. I turn on the ignition, then back the car out of the garage and onto the driveway.
I drive out onto the road, and wave to Antonio, Michael’s bodyguard who’s been assigned to protect us. Michael, of course, has an entire team in place to protect him and Karma. He slides into his car, and is accompanied by another of our men. Behind him, another car starts up, with two more of our men.
"So, they’re going to follow us wherever we go?" She turns to me. "Where are we going, anyway?"
"To a place where they have the best pasta, the best gelato, and the best espresso on the Amalfi coast."
"You Italians measure everything in terms of food, don’t you?"
"What else is there to life, besides the three F’s—food, fucking, and family?"
"Of course," she says dryly.
"You don’t agree?"
"It’s hard to disagree with it," she admits as I guide the car down the road, and through the streets of Palermo. Another ten minutes and I swing onto the road taking us back toward the coast. I step on the accelerator, then turn to find her watching me. "What?" I smirk. "Admiring the view?"
"I’m not going to say yes, and add to your already inflated opinion of yourself."
"Just admit it; you find me irresistible. You can’t resist my charms. It’s why you married me, after all."
She snorts. "Don’t get ahead of yourself." She fiddles with the dials on the console, and strains of Puccini fill the space.
"Whoa." She straightens. "Opera? I'd never have guessed, but then, even on a day off, you are dressed in a suit, so I suppose it fits the entire Mafioso persona."
I glance down at myself, then raise a shoulder. "This is how I always dress."
"But today’s a day off. You could’ve worn jeans and a T-shirt."
"I do own jeans and a T-shirt." I scowl at her.
"When was the last time you wore them?"
"Huh." I navigate a turn, then stare at the road, considering her observation. "I did dress casually," I point out.
"You’re wearing a suit, Seb. That’s not casual."
"I didn’t wear a tie."
She snorts. "Are you serious?" She peers at my features. "Youareserious. OMG." She waves a hand toward her knee length skirt and blouse, which she has paired with a sweater. "Now, what I'm wearing is casual."
"Not to mention sexy."
She reddens a little. "Thanks, I guess," she murmurs.
"You could wear a sack and I’d still find it sexy," I admit.
