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“Are you always this curious after sex?” I thought that he would’ve sent me on my way by now.
“Hey, I’m just trying to plan ahead for when you’re going to take me to meet your folks. Should I bring your dad wine? Does your mom like roses?” He smiled at me and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
“If I was in touch with my foster family,” I replied with a smirk, “they’d be the last people you’d want to meet. Trust me.”
“Foster family?” He frowned and I saw a faint line forming between his brows. Give it a couple more years at Columbia Law and that would become permanent. I’ve seen it happen before to the poor students that came to study at the coffee house. “I’m sorry. It couldn’t have been easy.”
No, it wasn’t. My foster home was the closest thing to inferno that God allowed to exist outside the gates of hell, but I refused to think about that time.
“It’s in the past.”
“What got you into the system?”
Oh, I haven’t talked about that in years. Ever since the state psychiatrist they sent to check on me once in a while decided that I was fine. It wasn’t a secret, I just discovered that most people didn’t care. Would Roman Stefani care if I told him, and most importantly, why did I want him to, so badly? If the answer to this question would be no, it would really sadden me, so I decided to just play it safe.
“It’s a sad story, brown eyes. Don’t bother your pretty little head.”
I wanted to get up and go to the bathroom to get dressed, but he stopped me with an arm around my waist, and pulled me to his chest.
“It’s your story and I want to hear it. You intrigue me. It’s not just your beauty, or body, or the crazy way you rode my cock. It’s you. Enlighten me, amore mio.”
What woman could say no to that?
“I was born somewhere in Italy, but I couldn’t tell you where. My father died when I was three months old and my mom remarried by the time I was two. We moved here because my stepfather – Silvester Carter – was from New York.”
“You have his name.”
“Yeah, he wanted to raise me as his own and he was a good man. My mom and stepfather were happy, for a while at least. She liked to bake and he was a chef, so they compromised and opened a bakery. Everything went to hell really fast from there.”
“The business.” I was surprised to see that he was following my every word.
“No, it was the opposite, in fact. Mom was very talented and she had all kinds of recipes for sweets that no one knows about. Polish sweet cheese pies, and Persian love cakes; she gathered them from people all over the world. Don’t ask me how because I have no idea.”
“I have to admit, I never had a love cake before. I guess, the closest I got to tasting that was earlier,” he whispered in my ear, making all my hairs go up, “when I feasted between your legs.”
“Yeah, too bad I don’t taste like saffron. That’s what the love cakes are; saffron cupcakes. I used to love them.”
He kissed my shoulder and my skin remained burning after he broke the contact.
“What happened next?”
“The bakery started making money, and money brings problems. I don’t remember much, I was seven when it happened, but I remember screaming. I remember a fight, two people asking for money, and seven gun shots. They were both killed right there.” I took a deep breath, grateful that my mind refused to remember the images, “I was hiding under a table and remained there until a police officer pulled me out.”
Roman’s embrace tightened around me and his shoulders raised over my body, almost like he was trying to protect me and in that moment I felt protected. Better not get used to the feeling, though.
“They tried to rob the bakery when all of you were there?”
“No, Roman.” I exhaled. This was the part that terrified me – the fact that the danger that took out my parents still existed. This city was full of it. “My stepdad refused to pay a bunch of gangsters that claimed the streets. My parents were killed by the mob.” In cold blood, in their own place. It could happen to anyone, it could happen any day, and in New York, it happened more often than not.
Roman turned into a statue, frozen, pinning me with his glorious chestnut eyes. He shook off the shock eventually, but this time he didn’t want to talk anymore. He just tucked me under his arm and held me until I fell asleep breathing in his cologne.
