“That was, uh, I mean, I didn’t think—” I’m stammering, trying to form a coherent sentence, but my head’s still buzzing with pleasure. “Thanks?”
What the hell is wrong with me?
Did I seriously justthankhim?
I expect him to get the hell away from me like I’m made from toxic waste, but instead, he bends down and lightly kisses me. He strokes my hair, flattening the flyaways.
“You’re something special, Fiorella Serrano.”
“Easy for you to say since you just had sex with me.” I lean my palm against his chest, thinking I’ll shove him back. But I don’t want him to move away. Not yet at least. My armor is still thrown aside and broken from the sudden trauma of earlier, and I feel so vulnerable after what just happened.
If he turns his back on me now, I don’t know how I’ll ever recover.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he gently kisses me again and helps me get dressed. He’s surprisingly tender and confident as he does it.When I’m fully clothed, I gather his things and pull away, arms crossed over my chest to protect myself.
I can still feel him between my legs though, throbbing like a memory.
“I don’t normally do that, you know.” I feel the need to explain and justify. “I mean, I think it’s just, you know, the adrenaline and stuff.”
“I understand.” He buckles his belt and starts on his shirt. “I don’t do that either.”
My eyebrows raise. “Yeah? You don’t? You seemed pretty comfortable with it.”
“Adrenaline.”
“The dirty talk?”
“Also adrenaline.” His lips press together like he’s trying to swallow a smirk. “And I liked the look on your face. Like you were scandalized but also into it.”
“I wasn’t—I mean, I was, but—” I shut my mouth, angry with myself and flustered. I should never have gotten vulnerable with this guy. I swear I’ll never hear the end of it. Not from a guy like Luca.
I know mafia men. I grew up with them. I learned a long time ago to keep my walls firmly in place and to never, ever,everlet them get close.
Because guys like Luca only care about themselves.
That was a hard lesson I’ll never forget.
“I meant what I said, you know.” He finishes dressing and looks at me. “You are something special.”
My cheeks turn bright red. I’m flushed with the sudden urge to throw myself at him and kiss him until his lips bleed.
But there’s a knock at the door. It opens, and the older man from earlier pokes his head inside.
“Luca, got a girl here to see you.” He looks from me down to the mess on the floor and back again. Embarrassment slams into me like a truck. But if he knows what we were just doing, his face doesn’t show it.
“Thanks, Gio. Send her in.”
Gio steps aside, and a bubbly little ball of energy comes rushing into the room. “Fiorella! Oh my god, I was so freakingworriedabout you!”
Elisa flings herself into the room, her dark ringlets bouncing around her angelic little face, and she slams into me with the energy and power of a Yorkshire Terrier.
“I’m okay, it’s okay, Elisa. It’s all fine.”
She squeezes me with all her strength. “Raffa told me something bad happened, and I rushed here right away to get you. Oh my god, are you hurt? Are you okay?” She pulls back, finally looking at me, then at the room, then back to me again. “What the heck happened in here?”
“Nothing,” I say, grabbing her hand. “Let’s go home, okay? I’m totally fine.”
Elisa’s face scrunches up as I try to pull her away. “Hold on, were you two fighting? Or wait—” Then my sweet, naive little sisterfinally understands. She covers her mouth with her other hand, looking from Luca to me and back again, her eyes going big enough to drive a truck straight through them. “Fiorella!”
