Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
“I haven’t been with anyone since John.”
His shoulders relax. Reaching to cradle my face, he touches his forehead to mine. “No hard feelings?”
I’m not sure if he means about insinuating I’m a slut, taking advantage, or the punishment itself, but it doesn’t matter. Even if I were steaming mad, it would be impossible to stay angry, centimeters away from Carlo’s glittering hazel gaze.
“No hard feelings.” Hurt feelings, maybe, but I’ll get over it.
He pulls the covers out from underneath us, then pats the bed. I crawl under them. “Buona notte, bambi.” Dropping a kiss on my forehead, he tucks my bedspread up to my waist. “I’ll drop your car back in the morning, okay? Do you have anywhere you need to be?”
I shake my head, pushing away the sharp disappointment at his departure.
He cups my chin and lifts my face. “Are you okay?”
A flush travels up my neck. Does he mean is my ass okay? Because, well, it still stings. Or does he mean is my pride intact? Not really. But yeah...the orgasm went a long way to help.
“Look at me, bambina.”
Damn, that Italian accent always melts me. If possible, I flush even more. With great effort, I lift my gaze.
His dark-lashed eyes hold warmth. He strokes my cheek with his thumb. “Are you?”
It doesn’t matter, suddenly, that he bent me over the sofa and spanked me like a naughty schoolgirl. Or even that he believes he took advantage of me, which really means he has no interest in pursuing a relationship. Because the way he’s looking at me shows he cares, and that makes up for everything else.
I turn my cheek into his hand and close my eyes. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
I get another forehead kiss–which I relish–and he leaves.
Holy hell. I can’t believe what just happened. How much I enjoyed it. That I want more.
Of course, this may be a one and done thing for Carlo. If I hadn’t already known he was a player, his kinky expertise tonight proved it. I shouldn’t hope for a repeat.
Shouldn’t want to keep the spotlight of his attention aimed on me.
But now that I’ve had a taste, I’m addicted.
I need more from Carlo.
More dominance.
More attention.
More everything.
Too bad he’s forbidden to touch me. Too bad my dad would kill him if he found out what we did tonight.
And worst of all–too bad I’m willing to risk that if it means I get more of Carlo.
Chapter Three
Carlo
The cold metal of a gun muzzle presses against my temple.
“You fucked her, didn’t you?”
I blink up at my brother in the dim room, cold sweat trickling down my ribs. “Who?”
“My girl. Summer. You fucked her.”
I move to sit up, but Mario pushes the gun against my head with bruising force, pinning me in place. “I didn’t,” I croak. “I didn’t mean to…” I reach out to touch the gun, and then I’m grabbing it away, pointing it at a terrified Ferdi, whose face I already bloodied.
“I was just following orders, kid.” Ferdi has the gall to call me kid. Well, he had the gall to attempt to kill his own cousin, too.
“Whose orders?”
“Mario’s.”
I shoot up out of bed, the gun I keep beside the bed already in my hand. I peer into the darkness, my shirt drenched in sweat.
Gesù Cristo.
Four years, and the dreams still haunt me. Not that I had any doubt about what inspired this one.
I betrayed Don Alberto by fooling around with Summer. No matter how I try to frame it that I was doing her a favor, I debased her. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I walk to the shower and turn the water on cold. I’ll be taking cold showers from now on until I get the image of Summer LaTorre’s face during orgasm out of my head. Which may be never.
I towel off and dress in a pair of jeans and black t-shirt. Picking up my phone, I call Sonny. “I need you to meet me at Summer’s.”
“No problem, boss.”
“I’ll text you the address when I’m ready, and then I’ll expect you there in twenty minutes. Got it?”
“Sure thing.”
“Listen, Sonny. You tell anyone who we saw last night?”
“Absolutely not, boss.”
“Keep it that way. You hear? Not a word to anyone, not even in the Family, capisce?”
“Loud and clear.”
“Thanks, Sonny. I’ll see you in a bit.” I hang up and text Summer. On my way.
She doesn’t reply. Well, if she’s still asleep, I can always wake her when I get there. I head out of my brownstone and get into Summer’s BMW. The car smells like her—a rich, vanilla scent, exotic and feminine. Unbidden, images of Summer bent over the arm of the couch flood my brain. The memory of the way she squirmed, moaning in my arms as I plunged my fingers in and out of her makes my cock harden, so I have to adjust myself in my seat.