Page 28 of Protecting Charity

“You said ‘us,’ but have I ever disappointedyou?”

“You’ve shocked the shit out of me, pissed me off, and drove me insane, but no, you’ve never disappointed me.”

I glanced away and put my finger on my lips to conceal the smile of elation on my lips. Fire lit in my belly, and I needed to get out of this car because I’d combust if I couldn’t outrun this feeling.

He pulled into an underground car park and found a space beside the elevator, and the nerves from being next to him morphed into fear. I wasn’t going in a fucking elevator; I had my fill yesterday.

No sooner did he put it in park, than I opened the door and headed for the stairs, taking two at a time before he could say a word. I hit the ground floor and opened the door to find myself in a store with glamorous ball gowns, expensive jewelry, and ankle-breaking high heels. The scene before me was straight out of a movie, and I would not play the part. I spun on my heel, walked right out, and smashed my face into Luca’s chest. He was quick.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m not going in there. I’d rather wrestle a fucking kangaroo than be glitzy and fake.”

He chuckled and put his hand on my lower back next to my pistol. I really needed to find a new location for it. I can’t have him touching my gun anymore. Although, the first time he pulled a gun on me, I damn near came in my panties. That wasn’t the case the second time.

“Kangaroos box, Charity. They don’t wrestle.” His smile was enough to make me want to go in there and try on every dress he picked out without complaint, but I just couldn’t. “You’ll be fine. Vito is already in there waiting for us.”

“Oh. My. God,” I said, emphasizing each word. “Not only do I have to do this against my will, but I have to do it in front of Vito?”

He smirked as if it was part of some evil plan. “You aren’t doing it against your will. You are doing it for the little girl you now have to save because of your actions. Do I need to remind you of this?”

Sneering, I crossed my arms and tried not to inhale his orgasmic cologne. “You already did. Message received.”

I turned around and took a deep breath, then released it before walking inside. The urge to tuck tail and run hit my gut again until Luca pushed me inside farther, not allowing the wimp in me to come out.

How is it I can induce fear in others, yet a stupid dress shop rattles my nerves?

His hand stayed on my back as he ushered me forward to a private area with white couches and a large white coffee table filled with fashion magazines and a bottle of champagne. Tall stemmed glasses sat at the ready for filling, and I already foresaw me drinking one down... maybe two.

A prude woman stepped up to assist us, and I immediately detested her. She reminded me of my mother, but with an expensive taste. Her French twist was that of perfection where not a single hair was out of place—most likely from the entire can of hairspray she used to keep it in place. Starch stiffened her clothes to where I was sure they’d shatter if she were to fall. Now that was something I’d love to test out.

Luca looked the part of belonging to an upper class with his expensive business casual style. His white button-down dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, allowing a small preview of his tattoo, with a navy-blue suit jacket to cover. He had me salivating.

He took a seat in the center of the couch and took up a position that said ‘I own this place. Come challenge me.’ He settled his elbows on his spread knees with his hands clasped together. Vito sat in a chair against the wall that overlooked the entire store, including the front and side entrance, looking irritated and like he didn’t get paid enough to watch this shit. I agree, buddy, no one could pay me enough to watch this debacle.

“How can we help you today?” Miss. Prude asked.

“She needs a full ensemble.”

I curled my upper lip as the woman studied my frame, silently measuring me with her judgmental eyes.

Let me gouge them out Luca, I promise to behave after that.

Okay, maybepromisewas a strong word.

“Let’s see what we have, shall we?”

Sitting down on the coffee table across from him, his hands gripped the back of my knees and knocked my legs together. “Yes, let’s see, shall we? You know she’s going to come out with something five times my size because that’s what these bitches do.”

“How would you know? You’ve never interacted with one of these ‘bitches.’”

“Ever see Pretty Woman? I’m sure that’s how they all are.”

He dug his fingers into my legs, eliciting a delicious pain that had me wanting to see what we could get away with in public. I bit my lip to keep from moaning when the woman came back with two thoroughly contrasting dresses. Luca slid his hands from my legs and sat back. I chastised myself for missing his touch as I stood and followed her to the dressing room. Could I treat this like my torture sessions? Hurry and get it over with or draw it out and make it as agonizing as possible.

I rushed into the changing room, shoving the posh woman out, saying, “I’ve got this,” as I stole the dresses from her arms and threw them on the floor before me. I shucked off my boots, gun, and the rest before sliding into a form-fitting red open back cocktail dress that went down mid-thigh.

Was she out of her fucking mind? How was I supposed to conceal anything in this? I stepped out, knowing he’d make me put them back on if I didn’t show him, and scowled.

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