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I shake my head. “Let’s not do this, Bambi.”
Mia whimpers and covers her face. “Why can’t you lie to me? I was really enjoying lying to myself.”
I reach out and take her hand. “I didn’t like it, okay? It sucked, actually.”
She shudders. “Has it happened recently? Since we...” She makes ayou knowgesture with her hand and mumbles, “Since we did the thing.”
“You want to know the last time I fucked your m—”
She covers my mouth with her hand and gives me a desperate look. I can’t help smiling against her fingers because she’s so cute like this. She cares so much about things. It makes me remember how good it feels to care.
I take her hand away. “Mia, baby, I haven’t touched your mom since before you came all over my fingers.”
She blinks at me in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah. And I won’t. On one condition.”
“What?”
I give her a wicked smile. “I entered this house as a married man determined to be faithful to the Bianchi family. If I’m not screwing the mom, I better be fucking the daughter.”
She punches my shoulder. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation here. Are you sleeping with other women? Any women at all.”
Normally I would be sleeping with two or three, but I haven’t even thought about another woman lately. “No one but you, Bambi. You’re the only one I want.”
“You went to a stripper bar,” she points out.
“Yeah, well, I felt like shit and needed a pretty woman to smile at me. Specifically, you. Guess my fairy godmother was on my side that day because there you were.” I thread my fingers through her hair and gently push it back from her face. “I would have gone to a regular bar if I wanted to pick up. I only wanted you, even then. You have me, Bambi. Youhaveme. As in, I belong to no one else but you.”
“But what about M—”
I cup the back of her neck and draw her lips up to mine.
“You have me,” I say again, holding her face between my hands. “Always.”
She takes a shuddering breath. “That’s even scarier than not having you. I can’t predict what’s going to happen next.”
I settle my arms around her and draw her closer to me. “What if I have a plan for us?”
“What kind of plan?”
“A crazy plan. A delicious plan.”
“What is it?”
“I couldn’t possibly tell you.”
Mia narrows her eyes. “Why? Would I not approve?”
A grin spreads over my face. “Probably not.”
“Will it work?”
“Pretty sure it will. Or it might blow up in our faces.”
Mia presses her face into my chest and moans.
“But the alternative is I go home and knock your mom up and you marry Drago Lastra.”
