AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Isabel, that’s not—”
There are footsteps behind me, hurrying closer, and Isabel perks up when whoever it is appears over my shoulder. “Rieta. I guess you’re the pretty one now, for a few weeks, anyway.”
I stand up and step away from them as Rieta exclaims and Isabel once again describes the accident.
Right behind Rieta is Laz with Mom at his side. She’s holding a cup of coffee and though she’s deathly white, she’s stopped crying.
I lock eyes with Laz. He makes a beeline for me, and we stand silently together with our backs against the wall as Mom and Rieta take the seats on either side of Isabel’s bed, discussing insurance policies, lawsuits, and possible plastic surgery for Isabel’s broken nose.
No one notices we’re here. It’s like we’re a couple of intruders in another family’s room.
“You’re the pretty one,” he mutters under his breath. A moment later, he shifts on his feet so that his arm is pressed against mine. “You always were.”
Five inches of my arm touching his, soaking up his heat and presence. Out in the open for anyone to see. I can’t make myself step away.
After fifteen minutes of standing in silence, Laz straightens up and puts his hand on my shoulder, announcing, “I’ll take Mia home. Isabel, is there anything I can get for you from your apartment?”
The three of them look around in surprise. They forgot about us.
“Mom will do that. She arranged my wardrobe, and she knows where everything is. But thanks, Lazzaro.”
“No problem,” he mutters, and we head for the door.
As we’re walking through the underground parking garage, I say, “You don’t correct the others when they call you Lazzaro.”
“I don’t give a fuck what those people call me.”
When we get home, Laz throws his keys on the counter and pulls his phone from his pocket. “Want to order a pizza?”
I shake my head. “I’m not hungry.”
His eyes narrow and his gaze sharpens, and I know something horrible is about to come out of his mouth. “What a performance Giulia made over a broken leg. I don’t think she’d carry on the same way about you, do you?”
“Thanks for pointing that out,” I seethe.
“So do something about it.”
“Like what? I’m not going to pour red wine on Mom’s favorite dress because she loves Isabel more.”
He shrugs, but there’s a dark glimmer in his eyes. “There are better ways to take revenge.”
“I’m not going to suck your dick because my family hates me.”
A wicked smile hooks Laz’s mouth. My eyes are drawn to his scar as he saunters toward me. “You are going to suck my dick, but because you crave the feel of me bottoming out in your throat.”
Desire takes a blazing swan dive through my body. I picture myself on my knees before him, his fist gripping my ponytail while he slowly and firmly fucks my face. Heat slams through me again and again.
Laz lets out a soft groan and pushes his hand through his hair. “That’s torture, Bambi. I can see you thinking about it.”
I’m more than thinking about it. I can vividly imagine it.
I can feel it.
One thing my ex-boyfriend knows about me is that I really like giving head.
Like,reallylike it.
Some nights I have vivid dreams about some rough, unknown man filling my mouth and throat. I can’t see anything. I can’t hear anything except for his groans. I don’t know who he is, but he has a voice like melted chocolate as he coaxes me to take him deeper. The dream is pure sensation, but I always wake up wet and gasping.
