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“Bella,” I whisper as I look her up and down. “So beautiful.”
She performs a twirl for me. “You like?”
I take her in my arms as my cock hardens. “I love.”
I can’t stop myself; I lean in and kiss her softly. Not kissing her feels unnatural. It’s the weirdest thing. I want to talk her out of going out, but I won’t because I know she wants this. “Let’s go.”
She grabs her purse and shawl, and I take her hand and lead her downstairs. My car is waiting in the parking lot, and I glance over to see the four cars parked with my bodyguards inside them.
My every instinct is to drop her hand, but I know I’m already skating on thin ice. I grit my teeth and let her hold my hand. Just this once.
“What’s this car?” she asks as she takes in the black Audi.
“This is my sensible car.” I wink as I open the door for her.
“Are you going to be sensible tonight, Mr. Ferrara?” she teases.
“Yes.” I smirk as I slam the door shut. I go around and get into the driver’s seat. “I’m only going to make love to you once in the missionary position instead of fucking you six times on your knees.”
“That’s presumptuous.” She smirks as we pull out into the traffic.
I take her hand and put it on my thigh. I want her hands on me when she sits next to me… wherever she is. I have to be touching her. It’s an urge I cannot control.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“To my favorite restaurant.”
“Tell me they have pasta.”
I pick up her hand and kiss her fingertips. Her joy is contagious. “They have the best pasta in all of Italy.”
“It’s a wonder we got in on a Friday night then.”
I smile. She’s oblivious to the pull that I have. “Yes, very lucky,” I reply as I keep my eyes on the road. I glance in the rearview mirror at the security cars trailing us. There’s trouble brewing at work with threats coming in left right and center now. Security around me has never been so high. It’s not exactly the right time to start a torrid affair of the heart.
I pull into the parking lot, open her door, and we walk into the restaurant.
“Mr. Ferrara.” Mario smiles. “Come in, come in, sir.”
We weave through the tables until we get to my favorite spot. He pulls out Olivia’s chair and she takes a seat. He hands us our menus.
“We will have a Margarita and a Amaro please,” I ask.
“Of course, sir. I’ll leave you alone and come and take your food order soon.”
Olivia smiles as she looks around at the glamorous space. “Well, this is special.”
“Like you.” I kiss her hand. “What are you eating, my love?”
Her eyes linger on my face.
“What?” I ask.
“I like it when you call me your love.”
You are.
Stop it.
