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“Hmm.” I turn and look at him. The energy is kind of… electric between us. A little awkward too. We haven’t been alone together like this since he left town. “We should uh… probably talk.”
“About?”
I sigh, “I don’t know. Everything that’s happened.”
“I suppose.” He points towards the sofa, and I walk over to sit down. “What can I get you?” he goes to the fridge and peers inside, “There’s not much here since I haven’t been here for a while.”
“Water is fine.”
He brings me a bottle of sparkling water and a glass. I thank him and pour it, just for something to do.
“First of all, I want to apologize about what happened with Tiziano. I killed him in anger, without thinking about the consequences. He had to pay for Mark’s murder, but I should have left that to the justice of Cosa Nostra.”
I reach out and squeeze his hand. “Mark was your friend.”
“My condolences anyway.”
“And my condolences about Mark. He seemed like a good guy.”
“He was the best.”
We stare at each other, having come to a natural plateau in the conversation. We're still holding hands, or rather my hand is atop his, our fingers clasped.
“I couldn't believe it when my father agreed to the truce. He's been wanting to take your father down for as long as I've known him.”
“Yeah, Giuseppe doesn't speak of Silvio fondly either. This is actually a huge thing to have happened.” I cock my head to the side. “Do you feel like now there's pressure for us to work out?”
He purses his lips, thinking. “I think that whether or not all this drama had taken place, there would be pressure on us to not fall out in an acrimonious way.”
“Yeah, I think there is the expectation that we have to treat each other with utmost consideration.” I grin at him, “Having known how good you are at aftercare I have no doubt that you can do it with ease.”
He smiles at me, “Why, thank you, that's very kind of you to say.”
I shrug, one-shouldered, “It's just the truth.”
He leans towards me, “Speaking of…” he murmurs, “It’s been a while since…”
“Since…?”
“Since we…” he waggles his eyebrows making me laugh.
“If you can’t say it, you shouldn’t do it.”
“Oh, I can say it. I can say it so well,” he slides his hand up my thigh, taking my dress with him, “But I’d rather show it.” He leans in and presses his lips to mine, ever so gently like a question.
I answer by surging towards him, wrapping my arms around his neck and parting my lips so his tongue can tangle with mine. I moan into his mouth, begging with my actions for more. We kiss frantically, arms just flying all over each other’s bodies, as if mapping each other out.
I’ve missed you.
He pulls away from me and I whimper in protest. Then he gets to his feet and holds his hand out to me. I stare at it for a full minute, uncomprehending, my mind cloudy with lust before I get it.
I reached for his hand and let him pull me to my feet. He leads me to his room and spins me around, unzipping my dress. “Take off your shoes,” he rasps as if he’s been shouting for ages.
I reach down and undo my sandals before kicking them off. He spins me around and lifts me up, holding me effortlessly in his arms and making me breathless at such a display of strength.
Our lips slam together, I bite his bottom lip and he sucks mine into his mouth. We are practically eating each other alive, and it feels so good.
Romano sets me down and then pulls my dress off, leaving me in nothing but a bra and panties. He grabs a wooden chair that’s sitting by the window and tells me to sit down in it. I hasten to obey.
