Page 13 of Taboo Flames

“You’re not bothering me. This is literally music to my ears.”

She laughs. “You may have set out to just teach them how to dance, but I have to say you’ve achieved much more. Thank you.”

My heart warms at her resounding praise, but it’s quickly replaced by ice at the thought of whoever it was that left me this clear warning coming after me and messing with one of the children.

I don’t want any of the children to be caught in the crosshairs of whatever this is. They have to be my first priority right now.

“Well, I may actually have to shut the studio down for a while,” I say nervously.

“Oh God,” she exclaims. “Is there a problem? Is it a financial problem? We can help you. You charge almost nothing for the lessons, Rory. You should make it worth your time.”

I smile. “Seeing the children happy is worth more than money. And don’t worry. I’m not shutting it down forever. Maybe just a week.” Or two. Or more. Who knows how long it’ll take to catch the bastards?

“But why?”

I don’t want her to panic, but I have to give her at least something, so I say, “It’s nothing too serious. I’ll draft an official email for everyone as soon as possible.”

“I hope you’re not in any trouble. Sienna absolutely adores you.”

“I’m fine, I promise.” Or at least I’ll be.

“Okay. Take care then.”

“Bye.” I hang up with a sigh and tuck my phone into my back pocket. I know Gio’s office is upstairs, so I head up there.

His office is impeccably clean and well-organized but empty. I don’t exactly want to barge into his bedroom, but this is very urgent, so I head deeper into the house. There are three bedrooms on the top level, and I guess the one at the end of the hall belongs to him.

I knock on the door and wait. When no response comes, even after a minute, I knock again. Finally, I push down on the handleof the door and walk right in. My eyes land on the bed. It’s huge enough to fit seven of me, but then again, Gio is a large man.

I frown in confusion at the apparent absence of the man. Where the hell is he?

Just as I turn to leave, my eyes land on the open door of his bathroom, and I freeze in my tracks. My mouth drops open at the sight before me.

The sight of a very naked and wet Giovanni Lombardi with his hand wrapped around his cock.

My mouth goes dry while some other part of me goes damp. Oh, Lord.

I’ve always known he was a fine man. I just didn’t properly understand how glorious he was. His wet hair is plastered around his face, and water drips down from it and trails from his pronounced pecs down the ridges of his abs and further down.

I find myself getting jealous of water droplets. I also don’t realize I’ve moved so close and am standing right at the doorway until his head snaps up and his brilliant brown eyes meet mine.

Without a change in expression, almost like he was expecting me to be there, he continues tugging at his dick, the tattooed muscles of his arms bunched and tense.

I lick my dry lips and fight the urge to reach down into my pants and give my pussy the friction it demands. That will be crossing a line. It’s one thing to gawk at a naked man in the privacy of his own bathroom, but it’s another thing to touch yourself while doing it.

His hands become faster and rougher as his hips push into the hole of his fist. His ass muscles also clench and unclench as his thick and veined length violently slips in and out of his grip. Damn, I wish those hands could be mine.

“Gio,” I whisper, barely loud enough for even my own ears, but somehow, his eyes sharpen imperceptibly on mine.

I drop my gaze down to his thick cock. I had seen the outline of him the other day at his office, but it didn’t prepare me for his size. My pussy pulses at the thought of that monstrous organ pushing into me.

When I meet his eyes again, the intensity I find there makes me shiver.

His lips peel back from his teeth, and he lets out a rough growl. “Mine,” he grunts, and then he comes with a shout, ropes of cum painting the walls of the bathroom.

I’m hornier than I’ve ever been in my life, and I’m this close to joining him in there and showing him how soaked I am, but at the last second, I come to my senses and take one careful step backward.

Then another and another. “I’m s—s—sorry.” Next thing I know, I’m flying down the stairs and zooming off in my car like a bat out of hell, all thoughts of the threat to my life relegated to the back of my mind.

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