Page 69 of Sweet Retribution

And honestly, my feet are so sore I don’t think I can stand very long anyway. I step into the shower and wash and condition my hair as quickly as I can, which isn’t too fast. My arms are weak, as is the rest of my body.

When I’ve rinsed off, I turn off the jets and dry off, then wrap a thick robe around my body. The bedroom is empty, and I have a moment of panic that he’s left me, when I spot Stone on his balcony, sitting at a small round table.

I join him outside, the ocean air cool and refreshing. An array of vegetables and dip, pasta, cheese, and meats are on a charcuterie board, and a steaming loaf of Maria’s freshly baked bread sits in a basket.

I’m touched not only at the array of food, but more so that he set it up on the balcony. A balcony he’d told me he never used, never cared to use before. Before me.

He’s wearing a new pair of sweatpants and a black T-shirt, and he’s never looked sexier. “This is new.” I dip my chin at the table and chairs.

“I thought you might want to eat outside.”

Cold hearted Stone Parlatore thought I’d enjoy eating outside and arranged for a table and chairs on his private balcony he’s never used before. Yeah. I’m totally in love with this man.

“Is this seat taken?” I ask before sitting across from him.

He puts his phone down and gives me a soft smile. “How are your feet?” He picks one up, resting it on his lap, and studying the cuts. “The doctor didn’t think you needed any stitches, or that you broke anything.”

“They’re sore. I guess I’ll need to stay in bed for a few more days to recover.” I nudge my toe along the inseam of his pants toward his crotch.

His erection is hard to hide in the sweatpants.

“Fuck, Gia.”

“Exactly.”

He sighs out a semi-laugh. “I’m trying to be good here.”

“What if I don’t want you to be good?”

“Merda.” He runs his hand through his hair. “You were kidnapped. Again. I assume held at gunpoint, by a man who wanted to rape you and make you have his child, you’re covered from head to toe in scrapes and bruises, and you’re talking dirty to me?”

Stone is the master of talking dirty. My comment was relatively clean compared to his. “If you don’t find me attractive anymore...” I plan on teasing and pushing him as far as possible. Anything to wash the guilt and shame off his face.

“I’m pretty sure you can see that’s not the case,” he says as my toes brush up against his erection. “You need food. It’s been thirty-six hours since you’ve had a bite to eat.” He pushes the plate of vegetables toward me.

“I’ll tell you what I’d like to take a bite of,” I mutter loud enough for him to hear, then pick up a baby carrot, scoop it through the dip, and bite aggressively.

He curses again and picks up a glass of what I presume to be bourbon, tossing it back like it’s only a couple sips of water. I notice my glass of water and drink half of it, still feeling quite dehydrated, despite the IV Stone said I received last night.

I nibble on some vegetables, then a few strawberries, and finally smoke gouda, salami, and a chunk of rosemary garlic Artisan bread. It’s my favorite. I’m so engrossed in my food that I don’t notice Stone’s attention on me.

I haven’t forgotten he’s there, my foot on his lap, in his hands. I’ve been savoring the sweet and savory food, which has given me a new source of energy. I lower my foot to the ground and stand, glancing through the open slider doors to his bed.

“Damn, Gia.” He bolts out of his chair and cups my face in his hands, kissing me hard.

I wrap my arms around his back and lean into him, opening for his kiss. His hands lower to my ass, then slide to the front, untying my robe.Hisrobe. It opens, exposing my naked skin, and Stone curses again.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, his eyes trained on mine.

He’s told me that a handful of times now, and every time there’s a strain in his throat like he wants to say more. There’s meaning behind those words, and one day I hope he feels comfortable enough to share them with me.

My knees tremble, and I can feel the moisture between my legs. I want him. I want him more than I ever have before. Hard. Fast. Now.

I run my fingers through his hair then drop them to his sides, slipping them under the elastic of his pants. I find his erection. Hot. Hard. Ready. “Stone,” I beg, taking a nip of his lower lip. “I want you.”

I release one hand and let the robe fall off my shoulder, then put it back in his pants, and release my other until my robe pools at our feet. I squeeze his dick with one hand and his ass with my other, then slide his sweatpants down his legs, making a trail of kisses down his chest as I lower to my knees.

“Gia.” His hands fist my hair, guiding me to his cock.

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