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She complies, closing her mouth and swallowing, the action sending another jolt of arousal coursing through my veins. The power she allows me to hold over her, even in this intimate moment, is intoxicating.
"Jasmine," I whisper, my fingers tracing her cheek as I lean down to press a searing kiss on her lips. "You have no idea what you do to me."
"Neither do you, Dario," she murmurs against my lips, her own desire mirrored in her eyes. "Neither do you."
Our bodies, slick with sweat and desire, intertwine as we settle beneath the soft sheets of my bed. The scent of sex still lingers in the air. Jasmine's head rests on my chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over my skin.
"Sleep well, Dario," she whispers, her voice heavy with exhaustion and satisfaction.
"You too, Bella," I reply, pressing a kiss to her forehead. As we drift towards sleep, basking in the warmth of each other's embrace, a sharp sound jolts us back to reality—the doorbell.
"Who could that be at this hour?" Jasmine asks, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"Stay here," I instruct, untangling myself from her limbs and pulling on a pair of pants. My heart races with unease; unexpected visitors are rarely a good sign in my line of work.
I crack open the front door, revealing an empty hallway. No one is there, but a package sits on the doorstep, wrapped in nondescript brown paper. A gold embossed note, signed G, is attached to the parcel, addressed to me by name.
"Who is it?" Jasmine calls out from the bedroom, her voice laced with curiosity and concern.
"Give me a moment," I respond, bringing the package inside and setting it down on the living room table. My hands tremble slightly as I tear off the paper, revealing a box filled with high-tech surveillance and self-defense equipment.
"What the hell?" I mutter under my breath, my confusion mounting. I pick up the note, scanning the neat handwriting.
"Stay safe, Dario and Jasmine," it reads, signed only with the mysterious moniker 'Ghost.'
"Jasmine," I call out, my voice tight. "I think you need to see this."
"See what?" she asks, emerging from the bedroom wrapped in a sheet, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"Someone left us a package," I explain, gesturing to the box on the table. "Surveillance and self-defense gear."
"Who sent it?" she asks.
"Take a guess?"
"The Ghost?" she whispers.
I nod.
"That means, danger is coming," she says, her voice almost breaking.
Chapter 13
Lines in the Sand
Jasmine
The sunlight streaming through the curtains of Dario's apartment is warm on my face, pulling me gently from my slumber. I stretch lazily, feeling the soft sheets against my skin and a hint of comfort that I haven't experienced in a while.
As I sit up, I catch a whiff of coffee brewing along with the aroma of bacon sizzling in the pan. My stomach growls involuntarily, but my heart clenches at the thought of Dario cooking breakfast for me.
Fuck. I've been compromised.
"Good morning, Bella," Dario greets as he catches my eye from the kitchen. His dark hair is messy from sleep, and his shirtless torso makes it difficult to focus on anything else.
"Morning," I respond softly, trying not to let my conflict show. This man, this mafia boss, has inexplicably found a way past my defenses.
I can't afford to let my guard down now, not when everything I've worked for is at stake and I don't yet know of Dario's innocence or guilt.
