Page 10 of Merciless Attraction

Her soft fingertips tickle as she runs them down my abs and to my cock, where suddenly nothing is funny. The grip around my shaft is tight enough for me to tip my head back onto the tiled wall with my eyes closing in sexual anticipation.

Gemma moans as she slides her hand up and down, ensuring my erection is as hard as it can possibly get. I can feel the blood pulsing behind my eyes. A sharp inhale stills me as Gemma drops to her knees. The warmth of her mouth covering every inch threatens to end this before it truly starts.

The way she moves back and forth, up and down, picking up speed between licks, slurps, and sucks ensures the run to a quick finish. The way her tongue follows the vein under my cock has me clenching my teeth trying to hold back my release.

When Gemma cups my balls and massages them as she sucks, I know I don’t stand a chance. I close my eyes and let my seed spill into her mouth and down her throat. She swallows, letting the tip of the head feel every gulp as it loses its steel.

When I open my eyes, Gemma’s gone, my cock is in my hand, and my seed is swirling down the drain. My pulse races as I try to catch my breath in the stifling heat of the shower which induced this cruel wet dream. It only takes me a few minutes to wash away the evidence of my fantasy and this long day.

Once I finish and turn off the water, I peek outside the bathroom door to see Gemma still fast asleep in my bed. My eyes can’t stop etching her petite frame into my mind like I’m never going to see her again. There are some bruises forming along her calves. Most likely from her tussling with Frankie in that back room.

My shoulder aches from busting the door down, but it was worth it to save her. Even with us pretending to be engaged, I don’t want her to be uncomfortable around me. It doesn’t matter we’re familiar with each other, I’m still a stranger. It’s been five years since we were in a room together and I don’t have any intentions of sharing a bed.

I grab a thin blanket from the linen closet and head down the stairs to stretch out on my sofa. It’s not the first time and it most likely won’t be the last. Many nights, this sofa’s the perfect bed between my shifts at the hospital. Sleep doesn’t wait long to find me.

By the time the sun peeks through the clouds of dawn, strong aromas of coffee and maple syrup pull me out of my sleep. My cock is fully awake too as it pitches a tent under the blanket. My body is too sore to even think about sex. But when I see Gemma walking toward me with coffee and breakfast in her hand, wearing nothing but one of my t-shirts, I’m more than happy to reconsider.

“How are you feeling?” I ask her, my voice a bit raspy from the few hours of sleep.

“Much better, thank you.” She offers me a shy smile as she sets the mug and plate of food onto the smokey gray glass coffee table. “I hope you don’t mind. I helped myself to a shower and some of your clothes.”

“And breakfast?” I grin and push myself to sit up, swaddling the blanket around my morning erection.

“What I want in my mouth isn’t in the kitchen.” She licks those gorgeous lips, leans over to give me a peek under the neckline to reveal her cleavage and runs her fingers through my hair. “Do you know you talk in your sleep, doc?”

“Yeah,” I groan, sipping the coffee. It’s strong, black, and could use some sugar, but I don’t say anything about it. I’m grateful not to have to make anything this morning. I glance at her as I make my way to the smaller bathroom beside the office that’s nestled under the loft space of my bedroom.

When I return to the living room, Gemma’s sitting on the couch, sipping a cup of coffee and scarfing down pancakes. I don’t hesitate to join her now that my cock is no longer rising to the occasion.

The food is delicious and we sit in silence until I can’t stop myself from asking her, “Did I say anything interesting?”

“Something about not going back into the fire.”

Her words jar me as my past blazes through my memories just like the fire I was likely referencing as I tossed and turned during the night.

“That’s not all that interesting,” I tell her.

“Were you talking about the fire you and Bash set?” she asks.

“Why don’t we talk about how we’re going to pull off being an engaged couple instead? I’m not exactly a recluse who stays in the house. I’m good friends with Julian and Luca. People will have the same questions as Verducci.”

“And you can give them the same answer when they ask, it’s none of their business.” Her blonde hair flops to one side as she shuffles the rest of her food around her plate.

“This was your idea, Gemma. Bash wants us to lean into it until he handles the Frankie situation. I should have finished him off myself in that room.” I flex my fingers, making a fist and releasing it. My knuckles aren’t too bad, but I should apply something to minimize the swelling.

I bring our empty plates into the kitchen and take out a first aid kit from one of the cabinets. Gemma follows me, rummaging through the kit for me, and pulling out some gauze and antiseptic spray. She silently tends to my hands while we share fleeting glances as she focuses on my wounds.

“Thank you again, Antonio.”

“That’s the last time you say that about last night. There’s no way I would ever let anything happen to you, Gemma. When we’re in public, a couple isn’t as gracious to one another. You don’t need to thank me every time we have a conversation.”

“These scrapes aren’t too bad. They shouldn’t leave too bad of a scar. Is that going to stop you from working?” she asks, putting the items back inside the kit.

“No, I'm not a surgeon.” Although there have been times working for the Marzano family where I’ve had to do some patch work. I tell her, “I’m in the emergency room most days and work in the clinic on others. I have a shift at the hospital in a few hours. We should grab some stuff from your place and then you can come with me.”

Gemma shakes her head. “I have a life. We can’t just stop living the way we used to—”

I cut her off. “But we do. Our lives have to change if we want Verducci to believe we’re engaged. The word has to get around, so he doesn’t come after us before Bash has a chance to do whatever he’s doing about Frankie.”

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