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“You want this?” Big looked at me and chucked his chin at the club.
Point for you, Big. He was giving it back to Vinny in the same way. He was asking me if I still wanted to work there.
“Yeah. I’m good.” It would be nice not to have the pressure to work, but I liked the girls and felt they needed me. Georgia stuck around for the same reason.
We left after the air was clear. Gio and the other men, who were probably just muscle, followed us out. Gio and Big shook hands, and we all separated.
Umberto was standing against a convertible Ferrari smoking a cigarette. His long black hair was slicked back, and his tan skin glimmered under the lights of Dynamic. I had a feeling he’d been watching the car for Big because the top was down.
Umberto handed him the keys and nodded at both of us. He headed toward another expensive car.
Big opened the door for me, and I slid in. This was a fucking rockstar of a car. The engine roared to life, and it purred underneath my legs like a powerful cat. I was still sensitive from what we’d done—and I was getting turned on again.
Once he’d opened the floodgates, it was like I’d been swept up inside them. If he decided to punish me by withholding sex, I really might hurt him.
I tried to focus on something else. “What kind of Ferrari is this?” I dug in my bag and found a hair tie so I could pull my hair up in a messy bun. It was going to be a windy ride.
Big looked both ways and then tore out of the parking lot, the beast of a motor coming to life and using Vegas as its hunting grown.
“Portofino M.”
“This is one of the sexiest cars I’ve ever seen.” I tapped the dash.
“This one was a gift from the Fausti family.”
“The Fausti family?”
“Specifically, Rocco Fausti. Once upon a time, I was a racer in Italy for them. His father, Luca, is one of the greatest racers to ever live.”
I pulled my phone out and Googled: Tullio Bigatti Italian Race Car Driver. His face was plastered across the results, along with one of those little boxes that gave official information on him.
My eyes flew up. “Why did you quit? This says you’re one of the best.”
“Keep reading.”
Oh… My next breath went down like a lump of coal. His mom had died—complications of cirrhosis—and at first, they had accused his dad of killing her. Apparently, his parent’s relationship was violent, and they were both heavy drinkers. There was a fight between the two the night before she was found. His dad died two years after his mom and two years before his grandfather.
I glanced up at Big. His eyes were hard on the road. I knew what addiction could do to a family, and I knew my apology would only seem like I was feeling sorry for him. I did, but I felt the same for all families who had to go through it.
Scrolling further, I found something that made me burn a little. I’d never been jealous in my life, even when I had the energy to care. Maybe that wasn’t what this was, but…I was having a hard time putting a name to the feeling.
I lifted the phone. The screen showed a picture of him and a slightly built Italian beauty. Abree Caffi. She reminded me of a bird. “I’m her replacement?” Seemed like Big was engaged to her while he was in Italy doing his racing thing. She and her family were considered opera royalty.
“Do you care?”
“Why would I?”
“Just making sure.” He grinned.
Hot air blew through my nostrils. “Just because you gave me good sex doesn’t mean anything. I’m immune to feelings, and my heart is fireproof. I can’t be burned. Not anymore.”
“At least you can admit it’s—” he paused, like he was searching for the right word “—good between us.”
“Good” was a lame term for it, and he knew it. He just didn’t want to admit it. Like I didn’t. Probably because it took some of his control too. It was the kind of thing people would become shackled for.
“If it’s the one pleasure I can take from this—” I motioned between us “—that works for me.”
“It’s that moment in Paradiso.”
