“Adult? Hardly,” he replies with another scoff. “You’re a naive little thing, and you should be locked up in your bedroom with twenty-four-seven security.”
“And you’re a big, mean bully who’s trying a little hard to be a hero,” I snap.
The car screeches to a halt, and I look at him in surprise. He’s eyeing me with a look I can’t place. “I’m no hero. I’ve never claimed to be one.” His eyes hold a dark glint as he continues, “In fact, I think being a hero is overrated. It’s wasting your time trying to please everyone and not getting rewarded for it.”
“Is that what you think you are? The terrifying villain?” I scoff. “Well, I’m not scared of you.”
“You should be. I’m not one of the men you can wrap around your pinky finger and run circles around.”
I’m not foolish enough to think Gio’s hands were clean. In our world, hardly any man’s hands were clean. Many men had taken their first life when they were barely ten, sealing their fate as part of this dangerous existence.
“I may not have you wrapped around my finger, but I do have one thing on you.”
“Please, indulge me, princess,” he murmurs with a smirk.
“You want me,” I say confidently.
Now it’s his turn to scoff again. “Don’t be ridiculous. If you go around thinking every man who’s protective of you wants you, you’re going to get your heart broken.”
“Do you think I’m running around the country giving my heart out right, left, and center? My heart’s taken already. The only thing I have left to give is my body,” I say brazenly, hoping he won’t ask by whom. I won’t admit my embarrassing crush on him, but I don’t want to have to lie, either.
Giovanni was crazy and unpredictable enough that I could lie about who has my heart by giving him a random name onlyto wake up tomorrow to news of every man in the city with that name winding up dead.
I see his jaw clench and his eyes flash angrily, and at that moment, I’ll give everything I own just to know which part of my statement is making him angry.
Is it the part about my heart or the part about my body?
At the same time, I’m afraid of the implications of what the answer might be.
“I know you want me,” I continue. “I see the way you look at me.”
He leans back in his seat, his lips ticking up in amusement. “Oh, really?”
“Yes.” I shrug boldly. “There’s no shame in it.”
He throws his head back and lets out a bellow of laughter. “Of course, I want you, princess. You have the face of a doll and the body of a vixen. I wouldn’t be a red-blooded male if I didn’t want you writhing under me. The difference between me and all those other losers you fall into bed with is that I’m a grown man with infinite amounts of discipline and self-control. I’m not running around with a hard-on, begging for someone to let me stick it in them.”
I lick my lips and watch him trace the movement with his eyes. He can deny it all he wants, make excuses for it, and try to reduce it to nothing, but his hunger for me was very apparent.
“I can make your self-control go right out of the window.” My heart is beating at a frantic rhythm, and warning signs are going off in my head, telling me to put a brake on where this is leading, but the image of a naked Giovanni with his dark eyes on mine and his teeth bared as his orgasm racks through his body is at the forefront of my mind, egging me on.
He doesn’t deign me with a reply. Instead, he reaches for the dashboard to turn the car back on before continuing on our way.
“You think I can’t? Fine then. How about a little dare?” I’m desperate at this point.
“I’m not playing your stupid games with you.”
“Scared?” I tease, wearing a smug, taunting look.
It’s the oldest trick in the book, and for a second, I don’t think he’ll fall for it. I’m trying to taunt him into playing my game, and I’m hoping curiosity will prompt him to agree to it.
“What game?” he finally asks.
Gotcha.
I try to hide the feeling of victory from my eyes with a mask of nonchalance, but I’m not sure I do a very good job of it. “I can make you rock hard in just a minute.”
He raises a brow at me. “Explain.”