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I know exactly where she is without looking. My body is acutely aware of her presence, and it’s driving me insane. I’ve been on edge since I saw her step into the gym this morning, then watching her literally slay our men before our very eyes only made my dick harder.
The clouds drift by, but my mind isn’t satisfied with the view. Not when she’s so close.
Fuck.
Despite my efforts, my gaze turns back to her, just like it has for the past two hours we’ve been traveling. I’m seated at the table of four, the plush leather seats surrounding me, while she’s lying across two chairs on the other side of the aisle as she sleeps.
I’m drawn to the way her eyelashes lie perfectly still against her pale skin, her chest rising and falling slowly with each breath she takes as a serene air floats around her. She’s such a mystery yet raw and real with her heart on her sleeve.
No one should be this complex and intoxicating all at once.
Crossing my legs at the ankle, I turn away, looking at the rows further back where Matteo is sitting, going over everything with our men in New York waiting for our arrival. Enzo is across the aisle from him, making sure Italy will continue to run smoothly in our absence. It doesn’t help that there’s no Torres, no one in charge, but he came to New York with us last time and we entrusted Gio to take care of things at Torres recommendation. Let’s hope this doesn’t bite us in the ass.
Sighing, I mentally roll my eyes at myself as my gaze falls back to Wren. Stretching my legs out in front of me, I adjust my semi that’s making itself known in my pants. Thankfully, everyone is either busy on their cell phones or sleeping, so they can’t call me out on it. Instead giving me the opportunity to let my thoughts of Wren consume me.
I’m as obsessed with her now as I was when we first met her in New York. If not, more. I should have known she was under my skin in a way I’ve never experienced when I left that meeting to check on her. Theninsistingshe come to another meeting because I couldn't bear to have her out of my sight.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. I’ve worked so hard on keeping my distance from her, barely talking to her at all. Not because I feel betrayed or enraged at what went down shortly after I fucked her against the hotel room door.
No.
It’s because I didn’t feel any of those things that I’m supposed to.
I blink my eyes open, shaking my head slightly at myself as a realization washes over me. This woman could tear my heart from my chest, throw it to the ground, and stomp all over it before tossing it in the trash, and I still wouldn’t give a shit. I would rather come back for more.
I’ve kept every thought and feeling completely to myself, locked away in a small part of my brain, refusing to let the words even play in my mind, but there’s no stopping it now.
Not now that I’ve observed my brothers melting around her too. I don’t know what it is about her that has us magnetized despite our efforts, but I’m done fighting it. It’s not worth the effort, not when Iwantto win the fucking prize at the end.
Wren Dietrichson was mine before I even knew who she truly was, and she’s mine just as much now. We didn’t choose this, and I don’t think she did either, but it is the most honest, raw, and real thing I’ve ever felt in my life.
I see the way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not looking. She ogles my scars time and time again, but there’s never a hint of fear or disgust in her stunning blue eyes, only intrigue with a hint of desire.
Fuck.
Wiping a hand down my face, I try to calm myself, but now I’ve opened the door in my mind, there’s no stopping it.
“I can feel your brain turning from over here.”
I freeze at her voice filtering through the air and making my cock jerk as I turn my attention back to her. She runs her hands over her loose white tank top, before wiping invisible lint off her leggings as she remains lying down, eyes fixed on mine.
“It’s where I’m the loudest,Bellissima,” I admit, aware that I prefer to be a man of few words.
A knowing smile graces her lips and my hands grip the ends of the armrests as I try to restrain myself from barreling over and laying claim to her like my dick, soul, and goddamn fucking heart want to.
No one should be this phenomenal. It shouldn’t be possible. Not with a history like hers that only makes her even more of a survivor. A warrior.
I’m in awe of her.
Shit, I wear my scars with pride, there’s no other option for me. Scars I gained at the hands of one of my father’s challenges he liked to organize tostrengthenus. But while mine are visible, hers are hidden away amid layers and layers of trauma she doesn’t deserve. Trauma I want to wipe away, save her the pain and heartache, yet it makes her exactly who she is.
My cock juts in my pants, all too eager to show her just how much I respect her and her strengths.
Wren tilts her head to the side, assessing me as she slowly sits up, running her fingers through her hair. She looks behind her to find both Matteo and Enzo deep in quiet conversations before turning her attention back to me.
Her tongue sweeps out, tracing over her bottom lip as her eyes burn into mine. “What are you thinking about?”
It’s not even a question that needs consideration. The truth spills easily from my lips.
