Page 30 of Sweet Retribution

Right.

There are moments when I think he might actually be attracted to me, then I think about the woman waiting for him back at the estate. Her boobs are bigger and she’s by far more experienced when it comes to sex.

What we’ve had together, I’m sure Stone would describe as vanilla, and Stone is not a vanilla guy. He’s sexy, bold, and dangerous. None of those words apply to me. The door opens and he steps out, then offers his hand. I take it and step out into the warm evening.

Photographers push up against the barrier snapping shots of us. I’m not expecting this. Not wanting to cower in front of them, I step past Stone instead of waiting for him to lead. I’m only one step in front of him when I hear him curse under his breath.

“Holy fuck.”

A smile escapes my lips.

He noticed.

CHAPTER SIX

How the hell did Inot notice the back of Gia’s dress before? Or rather, the lack of it? When Marco escorted her out of the house tonight I had to look away. I was grateful for the distraction of my phone call. I couldn’t afford to score a rock hard erection.

I’d only glanced at her for a second, and a second was long enough to notice the way the green satin hugged her curves yet flowed tastefully as well. The thin straps holding the dress up could easily be moved with a flick of my finger. Or my tongue.

Cazzo. I’d imagined my tongue making a trail down her exposed neck, landing between her most perfect breasts. And those legs. Long, tan, and begging to be wrapped around my waist as I fucked her.

I had to turn away and put some distance between us while I finished my call. And in the limo on the way to the air strip, I ignored her or I’d be tempted to cover her body with mine and shove my dick in her sweet, wet pussy.

It was always wet anytime I touched her. She’d be wet for me, I knew it. Or maybe she wouldn’t. She’d been acting odd the past few days, not that I blamed her. I shoved Sebastiana in her face with no explanation. I let her imagination run wild while I pushed her away.

Of course she’s pissed at me. I need her pissed at me. It’s the only way to accomplish my goal. Only now she’s turned the tables on me. Instead of being pissed, she’s understanding, not only of Sebastiana–even though she doesn’t know the deal–and of tonight.

How can I not care for Gia? Or at least respect her. But,fuck. That dress makes me want me to do anything but respect her. I’m aware of the cameras catching our arrival. She’s moved ahead of me, which isn’t good.

We need to appear to be a united front not only because of her father’s ridiculous stipulation, but to piss off Rossi. Seeing us happy, together, and not afraid of him is sure to put him over the edge. And the closer to the edge he gets, the more likely he is to make mistakes.

I snake my arm around Gia’s hip and hug her close to my side. I didn’t mean for my hand to slip between her skin and the thin dress, but my fingers have a mind of their own. Gia casts me a surprised look over her shoulder.

In her fuck-me heels she’s only a few inches shorter than me. Our gazes lock, and I hold her attention as we walk down the blue carpet to the entrance of the exhibit.

When we are inside, she pulls away a few inches, just enough to move my hand from her waist, and picks up two flutes of champagne.

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