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She rests her head against my chest, wrapping her arms around my neck and squeezing. “I’m so glad I’m here with you for the winter break.”
I smile as I’ve been thinking the same thing. “What do you want to do tonight?” I ask.
She sits up straighter and searches my eyes. “I don’t know. What do you normally do on Christmas Eve?”
“Honestly, nothing,” I say, shrugging. “Never been big on Christmas.”
Her brow furrows. “What happened to your family?”
I swallow hard, knowing that I can’t answer that. Nothing happened to my family, and when I told her they were dead, it was a lie. As far as I’m aware, they’re all happily living their lives across the Atlantic in Naples, maiming, killing, and growing an empire from blood and heartache.
I worked hard to rid myself of my Italian accent and blend into American society as well as I could. “I don’t wish to dwell on that right now.” I smile at her and squeeze her thigh. “How about I cook us a pizza, and we can watch a movie?”
Eva tilts her head to the side. “You’re going to make pizza from scratch?”
I smile. “I got some dough I’d made out of the freezer earlier. So yeah.”
“Another one of your mother’s recipes?” She asks.
I nod and silently stand, walking toward the kitchen. It was my grandmother’s recipe on my father’s side, as he was originally from Naples, the home of the best pizza in the world.
Despite erasing practically every link I have with my homeland, the food is something I still enjoy. I haven’t uttered a word of Italian in fifteen years, yet sometimes I still have phrases rattling around in my mind.
“Did your mother teach you Italian?” Eva asks, surprising me as I hadn’t realized she had followed me to the kitchen.
I turn around and lean against the counter. “Yes, I’m fluent.”
Eva’s brows hitch up. “Really, say something.”
I swallow hard as I realize I’m letting this girl know parts of me I’ve kept hidden for a long time. “Da quando ti conosco la mia vita è un paradiso. Dammi un bacio.”
Eva walks toward me and sets her hand on my chest. “What does it mean?”
I lean close to her ear and whisper, “Since I met you, my life is a paradise. Kiss me.”
Eva’s chest heaves as she pulls back to look into my eyes. “I like you speaking Italian.” She rises on her tip-toes and presses her lips to mine, pulling me down to meet her.
The kiss quickly deepens as I lift her onto the kitchen island, parting her thighs. My cock is hard and throbbing between us as I lift the hem of her skirt. “I don’t think I can stop myself from devouring you.” I kiss her lips. “But the pizza won’t make itself.”
Eva groans, pulling me closer as I thrust my tongue into her mouth like a sex-starved, ravenous monster. It doesn’t matter how many times I take Eva; the desire, the need, only heightens the next time around. She makes me insatiable, and that’s a dangerous feeling.
I force myself to stop kissing her and set her back down on her feet. “Go back into the living room and read. I need to focus on dinner.” I smile at the pouty look of disappointment on her face. “We have plenty of time to fool around afterward.” I kiss her lips softly, brushing my nose against hers. “Now do as I say.”
She sighs heavily and turns around. “Yes, sir.”
I groan, knowing she used that word just to wind me up. Instead of rising to the taunt, I turn my attention to the pizza dough on the counter. I already heated my oven to the highest temperature possible along with the pizza stone, so I get to work stretching the dough.
Once stretched, I layer it with toppings and place it on my pizza peel. I then transfer the pizza into the oven. While I wait for it to cook, I open a bottle of Catalanesca white wine from the region of Italy I grew up in, pouring two glasses.
I carry them into the living room and clear my throat. “Wine?” I ask.
She smiles and nods, sitting up straighter. “Yes, thank you.”
I pass the glass into her hand and sit down next to her. “Pizza will be ready in a few minutes.” I grab the remote for the TV and turn it on, switching straight to Netflix. “What kind of movie shall we watch?”
Eva shrugs. “Anything but a chick flick.”
My brow furrows. “Why’s that?”
