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I stare at him. "Are you actually empathizing with me?"
He frowns. "I did, didn’t I?" He snatches up the paper bag with the items he’s purchased, then turns and walks toward the exit.
I follow him as we head back out and toward the bike.
"How much longer are we going to ride?" I raise my arms and drop them toward my feet, stretching out. I hold the pose for a few seconds feeling every single muscle in my body separate. A groan escapes from my lips. I straighten to find him watching me with a strange expression on his features.
"What?" I scowl.
"You really are flexible, aren’t you?"
"So?"
"Brings to mind possibilities, if you change your mind about letting me fuck you—"
"I won’t, and even if I did, it would be me f'ing you."
"So, you did think about it?" His lips kick up and his eyes gleam. A gust of wind raises the hair on his forehead and my heart stutters. Whoa, what was that? I don’t know this guy at all. He may be good looking—okay, he’s bloody gorgeous to look at, has a body I’d do anything to get my hands on—but he’s part of the Mafia, for heaven’s sake. He and I have nothing in common. Also, he seems to think he can snap his fingers and I’ll fall into his arms. And when that creep Freddie told us what he expected of us before he’d set us free, the man didn’t blink an eyelid.
If I had encouraged him, he would have fucked me, too, not caring who was watching. He definitely did seem to get turned on by the idea. He’s kinky and filthy…and that’s so hot.No, it’s not. I don’t want to sleep with someone who gets off on the idea of being watched. I don’t want to be ogled in my most intimate moments. And let’s not forget, that weirdo Freddie might have even been planning to film us, and then what would have happened, eh?
"I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on this planet."
"Oh?" He looks me up and down. "I do believe that’s anofficialchallenge."
9
Luca
"You don’t expect us to share that, do you?" She narrows her gaze on the single bed in the room above the pub that I found. The place is far away from the nearest town, and so secluded that I’ll be able to spot anyone coming from a mile off. Thank god the Brits liked their countryside pubs, many of which kept the tradition of hiring out rooms by the night to travelers.
I was able to pay for it with the money stashed in the lining of my jacket, which thosestronziihad never found. An old Mafioso tradition which Michael had insisted on keeping alive. Thank fuck.
I shoot her a sideways glance. "Thought you’d have gotten used to the idea by now."
She scowls at me. "You’re taking this joke too far. And just to remind you, we haven’t spent a night together… so far."
"Easily rectifiable." I walk over to place the paper bag with the food supplies on the bed. Then I shove my jacket down my shoulders.
"What are you doing?" she squeaks as I shrug off my shirt and drape it with my jacket over the lone chair in the room, then reach for my pants.
"I don’t know about you, but I need a shower." I toe off my boots and my socks, then shove my pants down, along with my boxers. I fold my pants, drape them over the arm of the chair, drop my boxers on the chair, then turn toward the bathroom.
She pivots around to glance the other way, but not before I notice the flush on her cheeks. Oh, she’s attracted to me, all right; she’s just going to keep fighting it. Fine by me. She’s not the kind of girl I’d want to bed anyway. Too many hang-ups; too many romantic notions. She’s probably the type who expects a man to put a ring on her finger if he sleeps with her twice.
Too bad, she has the most luscious body I’ve ever come across. Those curves bely the litheness with which she can stretch. And when she dances?Gesù Cristo, I can’t look away. She is something special, no doubt about it. Too bad she rubs me the wrong way. Nope, she’s too much work.
Oh, I’d fuck her, all right. Problem is, if I did, chances are, I wouldn’t be content with doing it just once. And that’d only complicate matters. Also, she’s exactly the kind of woman my Nonna would have encouraged me to be with. Which is exactly why I need to steer clear of any entanglements with her.
Ideally, I’ll get her to London, then back to her troupe in Palermo— Shit, that’ll only put her in danger again. There’s nothing stopping Freddie from coming after her again, so unfortunately, I can’t part ways with her yet. I need to make sure she’s safe first, so for the moment, she’s stuck with me, like it or not. I’m not going to change my ways. She’ll have to put up with me; no choice.
I stalk into the bathroom and step under the shower. It’s a tiny space, but at least the water is hot.
I reach for the soap and begin to wash myself, when a draft of air hits me. The door bangs shut and I turn to find her walking into the bathroom. Naked. Not a stitch of clothing on her body. And what a body she has.
I knew she was curvaceous, obviously, but Angel without clothes is… My favorite wet dream, come true... Firm breasts, tipped with plum-colored nipples that are erect, a narrow waist that flares into hips which are wide enough to tempt me to grip them when I position her just so as I breach her opening with my cock. As I squeeze those creamy thighs and mark them, before I bend her knee to the side and next to her chest and bury myself balls deep inside her heat.
I take in the flesh between her legs… Plump pussy lips that fold in toward her clit. She slides into the space in front of me and cuts off the flow of water. She raises her head as the water flows over her shoulders, down her back, and over the swell of her butt cheeks. The blood drains to my groin and my thigh muscles tighten. A pulse flares to life in my balls as I take in the spectacle. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I clear my throat.
