Page 21 of De Luca: The Saint

I’m not an idiot, though, I know I can’t have her when things are so strained between us. Fuck me, it doesn’t make my cock any less hard.

I reach my hands out to her, “Come here, Angel.”

She hesitates, she wants to tell me no, but she doesn’t. Slowly, she makes her way to me.

I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her onto my lap. Pressing my face to her neck, I inhale her scent, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby. I won’t lie to you. I had a past before you.”

Turning her face away, she whispers, “I know.”

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

Her eyes connect with mine, and I swear I could drown in her big blue ones, “Why were you upset?”

A tear rolls down her cheek, “For a moment I thought I was special, meant something. I’ve got it now, Damian. It won’t happen again.”

I shake my head, “I don’t think you do, Angel. You are special. You do mean something. Already you mean fucking everything to me. Fuck me, Kitty Kat. I didn’t plan any of this, but I’m obsessed with you. There is no one else, there couldn’t be when my every thought revolves around you.”

More tears fall down her cheeks, “Damian,” she gasps.

“There have been many others, Angel, but no one like you. I’ve never needed a woman like I do you. You’re the only woman who has ever had my heart. I have never told a woman about my family. I’ve given you a piece of me nobody has ever had. Hopefully, that will be enough for you, because I’ll never fucking let you go. I can’t. I live in a dark world filled with pain. You are the only thing I’ve found that numbs it. Makes it bearable.”

She throws her arms around my neck, moves so she’s straddling me, and presses her soft lips to mine. This is the first time she’s ever initiated any physical contact, so I guess that’s her way of saying it’s enough.

I know Kat feels something for me, even though it’s early. I’m crazy about her, but it’s not love. It’s too soon for that, isn’t it? I know the thought of her leaving town and never seeing her again hurt. I decided the second Domenic told me her plans I was not going to allow that to happen. There’s something about her that I’m not willing to live without. My cold, dead heart started beating again with one touch from her. I may not be a saint, but I can give her what she needs. I will never be a good man, but I will be to her. Max was right. She’s my one exception.

I pull back, and she giggles, “Is that a banana in your pocket?”

I groan and stand before setting her on her feet, “Not a banana, Angel. Come with me, I want to show you something.”

She gazes into my eyes, “Okay.”

I take her tiny hand in mine and walk with her to the second floor. We walk down the hallway, and I catch her looking at the photographs on the wall. Stopping momentarily, I point to the photograph she’s staring at, “That’s Dante and my mom. I think he was around three months old in that picture.”

Kat turns to me, reaching up, she tenderly touches my lips, “You have her smile.”

I kiss her fingertips, “She was always smiling.”

Pointing to another photograph, I say, “This is Dalia, my sister. She’s mom’s spitting image.”

In this picture, Dalia was three. They are both laughing hysterically at all four of us boys wrestling. My brothers and I were in our teenage years, so I clearly remember this day. I remember looking from where Domenic had me pinned to the floor and the laughter filling the room. Drake took the photograph, he’s the camera bug in the family. I love having images of our time together, but I’d give anything for five more minutes. Another laugh, her beaming smile, the way she used to glare at me when she disagreed with something I had done, which was often. My mother managed to walk the perfect balance of a mob wife and a good, god-fearing woman. She knew the types of things my father was involved in, but never judged him. Yet, she was constantly making him help the underprivileged. Frequently, she made him donate his time to various soup kitchens. It was funny to us boys, my father, the all-powerful mafia don that he was, cooking and cleaning for homeless people. There was only one reason he did it, because his love for my mother knew no bounds. Whatever she wanted, she had it. When he wanted us to work for him, my mother said no. They argued about it, I’m sure. The end result was that none of us were allowed to work in the family business until we graduated school. Education was important to her. My father proved time and time again that if it was important to her, then it was also for him. My father was a dangerous man, but he was also a great example of how a man should treat his woman.

I want to be that for Kat. I never imagined meeting a woman I’d want to keep. That’s exactly the situation. I’m tempted to lock her up, so I don’t have to share her with the world.

“Damian? Are you okay?”

Leaning down, I kiss her on the forehead, “Yes Angel. Sorry, I was lost in the memories. Come.”

Opening the door to my media room, she gasps as she takes in my favorite place.

I’m a movie buff, and this is my favorite room in my home. I chuckle as she gawks at the screen. It covers the entire wall from floor to ceiling. About three years ago, I had it custom-made, as well as the eight double movie theater loveseats. They are a shade of evening blue, each side adorned with gunmetal cup holders.

“This is special to me, Angel. No woman has ever been here except for my sister. And now you. Who I am in business, is not who I am in my private life. Do you want to watch a movie with me, baby?”

She grins at me, “Let me guess. The Godfather?”

I chuckle and grab her on either side of her hips, “Nope.”

Kat taps her finger to her head, “Ahh. Got it. Goodfellas.”

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