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“How often will he be expecting it? You know, for us to have sex?”
“Ah, that varies from couple to couple. When you both want to, it could be several times a day or a week. It’s up to you. Just remember that, okay? Any and every part of sex is always your decision, not just his. It may not seem like it, but you will have all the power.”
“I will?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yes, you will. You should always be the one to agree on when and how, Sophie. Don’t go along with things you don’t like just to make him happy.”
“Okay,” I agree, wondering if it will really be that easy to deny Lochlan. I highly doubt it. And I can’t wait to find out.
“And if he ever does anything you don’t want to do, or if he hurts you, promise me you’ll tell me or your father.”
“You think he’ll hurt me?” Again, there’s that excited jolt surging through my body at the idea. Definitely something wrong with me.
With a heavy sigh, Vanessa says, “I hope he won’t, Sophie. I hope he cares for you and treats you like a queen, because that is how you deserve to always be treated.”
Her words make me feel ashamed of those dark thoughts I’ve had, the ones Lochlan elicited too. So, I keep them to myself, and hope that if I ignore them long enough, they’ll eventually go away.
And when we get home, I know what I’ll be doing for the rest of the night—homework. I need to study up on the parts of human anatomy that I know the least about.
8
Lochlan
The past three weeks I’ve spent on more phone calls than I can count with Dante or his no-non-sense wife making wedding arrangements. Never with Sophie though. Dante refused to give me his daughter’s phone number yet, which is fucking ridiculous.
And while I wouldn’t have minded talking to her, teasing her, I didn’t push the issue. There’s always the chance that I could talk her out of the wedding if I run my mouth to her. We’re too close to the finish line to fuck it up.
Still, I’m more fucking thrilled than I care to admit about being able to see her tonight during our engagement dinner at Dante’s casino. He flat out refused to have the wedding or even dinner tonight at my estate or casino after the bombing. And I don’t blame him.
Some people have a rehearsal and dinner the night before the wedding, but this is more of an engagement party for the two families since I don’t need to practice standing, and I doubt Sophie needs practice walking down an aisle.
As for family, well, Owen and Flynn are my only blood relatives. I brought them both along with a handful of guards. When we reach the door of a smaller-sized ballroom, I warn them both to behave. “Watch your mouths and don’t screw this up for me.”
“Got it,” Owen says with a wink before he walks off to the bar.
When Flynn starts to follow him, I grab his elbow to pull him to a stop. “Go easy on the booze. There’s too much on the line for you to get drunk and act a fool in front of Salvato’s daughters.”
“I’m cool,” he says, even though his brown eyes are bloodshot. At least he showered and put on a button down and slacks tonight rather than insist on coming along in his usual ratty clothes.
“Sure you are,” I mutter.
“Go find your child bride and get off my dick,” he huffs before pulling his arm out of his grip.
Speaking of my virginal Snow White, I finally spot her across the room talking to Dante’s wife. Since her entire back is bare other than her long, flowing black waves, I begin to wonder how much of the front of her body is covered. But then she turns, revealing the entirety of the white pleated halter-top dress. The hem brushes midway up her thighs, and the material is so sheer it would be see-through, if not for the second layer underneath. And goddamn, her black strappy high-heel sandals accentuate her long, toned legs, adding three inches of height. I had no idea she was so damn tall since she was sitting down the other night. And in the still photos the housekeeper provided, I was too captivated by her short tennis skirts to notice she’s nearly six feet tall with heels.
When she sees me, her eyes do a sweep up and down my entire suit twice before they reach my face. Her cheeks redden when she realizes I caught her checking me out. She turns back to her stepmother who gives her a gentle shove in my direction as I begin to approach. Sophie doesn’t budge, as if she’s hesitant to speak to me. She’s a sexy deer in headlights, rightly afraid of what’s coming for her, but unable to run.
“Hi, Vanessa.”
“Lochlan,” Dante’s wife replies. “Everything is all set for tomorrow.”
“Great, thank you for your help,” I tell her. Then the three of us stand silently until Vanessa eventually murmurs, “I should go find Dante,” and wonders off.
“Hello again, princess,” I say once we’re alone.
“Hello, Lochlan.” Damn, I love the way she says my name. Her voice is quiet, a little shaky too, because she’s scared of me. I shouldn’t want her to be, and yet, here we are.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?”
