Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Just a guy who worked for my dad.” There was no way I was going to name him, not if there was any chance that Massimo might seek him out and hurt him.
“And that was your only orgasm before today?”
“Yes.”
“And your only experience with a man?”
“Yes.” It seemed like he believed me. Somehow, that made the devil take me over. “Only experience with a washing machine, too.”
I waited for him to explode at my impertinence, but he just sat down on the bed across from me. “Sometimes, I don’t know what the hell to make of you, Allegra.” He shook his head. “A fucking washing machine made you come.”
“Come?” Come where?
“It means to have an orgasm. God, you really are naïve.”
His words were true—and they hurt. “I don’t want to be.”
Massimo leaned back, his hand on the bed behind him for support. “What do you mean?”
“I want to do the things other girls my age do. There are so many things I want to do.”
“Like what?”
“Does it matter?” The wording came out harsher than I meant it to, but he didn’t seem to take offense. “I can only do what you let me do anyway.”
He nodded. We both knew it was true. “Tell me what you want to do.”
“Everything.” I sighed. “Something. Anything. Anything but just sitting around here all day with nothing to do.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Weren’t you the one who professed a deep desire to garden? I noticed you haven’t started on that.”
“That’s not exactly the key to a fulfilling life.” Not that I’d ever really tried it. “I’m twenty. Most girls my age have traveled. Studied at a university. Kissed more than one man.”
“We haven’t kissed—” he began, but then his expression darkened as he realized I wasn’t talking about him.
He pushed off of the bed and strode over to me. I forced myself not to pull back as he placed his hands on the armrests again. Then he leaned in and I tilted my head up, my eyes closing automatically.
A soft breath of air swept over my face and then I caught his intoxicating, masculine scent. It was the one I’d smelled before when I had my face buried in his shirt. His warm lips pressed against mine, and I sighed softly as he kissed me.
The pressure was gentle and light, and I relaxed. I felt the urge to reach up and stroke his hair, but I kept my hands at my side. Somehow, I knew that this was just the beginning. A brief introduction to what it would be like to kiss him. Or a way to lay claim to me.
Either way, it was over too soon. He pulled back, but I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the lingering sensation. When I opened them, he was sitting on the bed again. “Now you’ve been kissed by two men.”
My hand moved to my mouth, and I traced a finger along my lower lip. It was almost like feeling the pressure of his mouth against mine. “And I’ll never kiss another one.”
“Did you want to kiss that man at the bar? The nice man who bought you a drink and planned to assault you later?”
I winced. “No.”
“Because now you know what kind of a monster he was.”
“No. I mean, yeah, I do know that now. But I didn’t want to kiss him. What I wanted was to use his phone so that I could call the restaurant and tell Carmine where I was.”
Massimo studied me, his head cocked, as if trying to ascertain the truth. Suddenly, it was important to me to explain more. “I didn’t want that man. But I liked what he represented.” I held up my hand, hoping Massimo wouldn’t make another cutting comment. “I liked the fact that I was able to choose who I wanted to talk to. Or drink with. Or spend time with. I’m never going to get to choose those kinds of things again.”
“Did you ever?” I hunched back in my chair. “I’m not saying that as a dig. I’m just pointing out that the circumstances you’re in aren’t new.”
“It’s different though. Or I hoped it would be different. Being engaged ... moving to a new place ... I’d hoped it would be different. There are so many things I’ll never experience.”
“Girls have married young for centuries. Do you think our great-great-grandmothers ever bemoaned the fact that they only ever got to be with one man?”
“I’m not talking about sex.” That last word just slipped out, as if I used it in casual conversation all the time, which I certainly did not. “I just ... there are things I’ll never experience.”
“Good and bad,” he said. “You’ll never be hungry. Never be poor. Never be in danger again—not if you actually listen to me, or my brothers when I’m not around.”