Page 27 of Spice and Revenge

This isn't the first time Susan and I have been together, and she knows the rules—no one stays overnight at my place. Ever. The fact that she just tried to initiate that means that this will be my last time having sex with her.

Without further protest, she begins to hastily dress, collecting her scattered clothes from the floor.

Running a hand through my hair, I step outside onto the terrace adjoining my room. The breathtaking scene unfolds before me: the moon shines brightly in the night sky, casting its ethereal glow over the expansive compound below. I inhale deeply before stepping towards the railing. As I grip the iron railing, my attention is immediately drawn to the garden beneath my bedroom.

But it’s not just the garden, it’s the person in it.

There, amidst the neatly manicured greenery, is Lorena. The corner of the garden where she stands is a bit dark, but I can recognize those blonde, long and curly strands anywhere. My eyes trail slowly over her figure which is illuminated by the soft moonlight. Her silk nightgown stops mid-thigh, exposing the creamy, smooth skin of her legs. The material drapes over her curves—her perky breasts, slim waist and round ass.

A gentle breeze rustles through her hair, causing a frown to appear on her face. A few stray hairs fall onto her face, and in a fit of frustration, she harshly pushes the strands away from her face.

She has her back to me now as she paces back and forth, frantically speaking to someone over the phone, and as she turns again to face my direction, I see the worry and distress etched onto her features.

For a brief moment, I wonder who she’s talking to.

The result of the background check from Vito I asked to be run on her came back okay. She comes from a small, nice family in Florida, moved to Sicily five years ago to attend the Academy of Culinary Arts, a culinary school here in Palermo, Sicily and has lived here ever since, right up till the moment she got this job.

Everything about her seems normal and innocent. She appears to have a pleasant family background, and everything seems to be in order.

Yet, I can’t help the unsettling feeling that lingers within me. As I watch her, a sense of unease grips my heart, whispering that there's more to her than meets the eye.

Why is she out here, away from prying eyes, making a frantic call in the hidden depths of the garden? Is she hiding anything, or rather, is she hiding from anyone? I can't help but wonder what secrets lie beneath the surface. Is there a past she wishes to be kept hidden?

The uncertainty gnaws at me, igniting a fire of suspicion that grows by the minute. Yet, despite my doubts, I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from her. It’s like a strange allure, a magnetic pull that keeps my attention solely on her, that keeps her in my mind all day long.

The moonlight dances upon her face, accentuating the lines of concern etched upon her brow. Curiosity mixed with desire surges within me, and I feel an intense desire to rush down and…

And do what exactly?

“Fucking hell,” I curse low in my throat, running a hand through my hair again.

I am hard and aroused, just by staring at her, after having sex with someone else just minutes ago.

She turns at that exact moment as if she heard me, and her eyes meet mine.

We stare at each other. It is intense, almost primal, and there are no words for it. I have never been so… soaffectedby anyone before. I haven’t thought about a woman the way I think about Lorena. And it’s almost amusing because I haven’t even touched her yet. But now, my blood thrums, my heart beats, and my skin seems charged with electricity as my eyes remain fixed on her. I am completely focused on her.

From my height above, I see her lips part slightly, and my gaze can’t help but drift to look at it. They look soft, full and plump. Her pink tongue darts out to moisten them, and a thrill races across me, heating my groin.

I don’t even kiss. What the hell is wrong with me? What is she doing to me?

I want to take her to my bedroom and fuck her senseless on my bed.

But I can’t. I won’t.

She blinks, and the moment is immediately gone.

Dragging her eyes away from me, she walks towards the house, until I can no longer see her from beneath me.

I am incredibly hard as I walk back into my room. I need to release my pent-up arousal, and I almost regret sending Susan away.

I never regret sending women away from my house.

I groan again before collapsing onto my bed. Folding my hands behind my head, I stare up into the ceiling, willing the sleep to come. Of course, it doesn’t. I’m too turned on to sleep. Normally, I would go to my office to distract myself or go grab a bottle of whiskey.

Today, I don’t. I fear that if I step outside my room, my legs might take me over to Lorena’s bedroom, and I’ll do something I will definitely regret.

After hours of staring mindlessly at the ceiling, my eyes finally begin to drift shut. Sleep consumes me, and I sink into a comfortable void.

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