Page 40 of The Last Call
“Yes.”
Fuck if she doesn’t squeeze me tighter with those magnificent toned thighs, and my cock answers with a twitch of its own. Rising in unison with her heavy breaths. “I think so too.”
I love her close. But I need her closer. So damn much closer. I tug her shirt tucked neatly into her jeans until I can feel the slight bones of her back under my fingers. I don’t think I’ve ever touched skin so soft. I swear she fucking purrs when I rub my palms up her spine.
“Everything is taken care of…”
My head jerks up from her shoulder at the sound of Paolo’s voice. Fucking really? Twice I’m about to fuck her, and twice I’m fucking interrupted. I’m going to have to fucking barricade her in my damn bedroom.
“I am sorry Mr. Sabatini. I did not mean to barge in…I am not used to a young lady…”
His words fade away but I know what he implies. Yeah, I’m not fucking used to it either, never having brought a woman here before. But I sure as hell like it. I wink at her as she smirks and slides down. She’ll pay for her amusement later. Nothing funny at all about her thinking I’m never going to have the opportunity to fuck her.
Contrite and embarrassed, Paolo bows his head in apology. Still deadly in his actions when warranted despite his age yet also respectful in his deference to me. Especially when he’s at fault.
I keep her slightly tucked behind me so he can’t reach out to her. Refusing to allow even a handshake. Fucking irrational for me to doubt a man I trust implicitly enough to manage my home and provide security for my grandmother but I really don’t give a damn. No one touches my lion except for me. “Paolo, this is my fiancée Sydney Martin.”
“The pleasure is all mine signorina.”
I shove down her arm when she offers him her hand. She jerks away from my touch but doesn’t fight me in any other way. Which is good because she will quickly learn I won’t tolerate her insubordination in front of my employees.
“I’m not his fiancée. But the Sydney part is accurate. It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”
I should fucking kill him where he stands for the smile he’s trying to stop twitching on his lips. But then Nonna would cry and carry on, and I don’t have time for her to be on my ass any more than she already is.
Instead, I grasp Sydney’s fingers and lead her outside and into the waiting vehicle. I’ve got a few things to take care of before the fight, and then I’m finally going to fuck her whether she’s ready for me or not.
Ican’t sleep.
Not without him. Uncertain as to when I got comfortable in his bed. Or, even worse, how I’ve gotten used to having him in here with me. No sense in lying to myself. I don’t want to drift off alone. I don’t want to be alone.
The clock reads only eight minutes since I last checked. Might as well give up and go find him. Going downstairs by myself in the middle of the night feels weird. I grab my robe. Tying the black silk belt tight around my waist lest I run into Nonna. Or even worse one of his men. None of them would dare touch me but I hate feeling like some kind of prize or prisoner. Even though I guess I technically am.
Peaceful silence greets me on the steps and in the foyer. Only moonlight flooding the empty rooms except for the small den next to Julius’s office. I guess he’s finished working and watching the boxing match he seemed so interested in earlier. I pad quietly in my sock feet not wanting to disturb anyone. Or more accurately not call attention to myself. I stifle a giggle. I’m probably kidding myself with that thought too. He’s probably following my trail on his phone and already waiting for me.
I peek in the open door. My heart flip flops. He’s so damn handsome. And so fucking dominant. His thick arms draped across the back of the couch, pulling his shirt taut across his delicious bulging muscles. His long legs sprawled out in front of him. Owning the sofa. Owning the room. Owning me.
Dark eyes meet mine when he looks away from the TV. His quick gaze skimming down my bare legs before returning to my face. Pleasure and desire searing me from the same emotions flaming in his expression. He wants me as much as I hate to admit I want him.
“Come here.”
More of a growl than actual words. My head says fuck you. My heart says hurry the hell up. I hate the turmoil. The doubt. The fear.
Apparently, he does too from the displeasure lining his forehead. Impatient with me for disobeying him. For denying myself. So I stop fighting what I feel. For the first time in six years, I follow my heart instead of my head. Swallowing my stubborn pride, and allowing myself go to him.
I can’t give in too much though. Refusing to run or show how much I want him. I edge the perimeter, trying to discretely scooch onto the cushion next to him. Asserting my independence and claiming my side of the furniture. Of course, that’s not good enough, and he yanks me next to him. Tucking me against his rigid body. Forcing me to curl myself around him with my head on his shoulder. Which feels weird and warm and wonderful.
I guess not to Phillip who hops up and strides out of the study without a glance back. If what Julius says is true, and he’s never brought a woman here before, then the bodyguard probably feels just as awkward. Nothing personal toward him at all, but I’m glad he’s gone. Already self-conscious enough without an audience, I don’t need him watching Julius manhandle me.
Julius’s lips on my forehead ease some of my discomfort. Whereas I don’t think he had any embarrassment to begin with. He never does. Making me wish I could be as confident as him. Especially when his hand roams over my hip. His chuckle from my involuntary twitch heating my face. I need to get back in control. Of myself and of him. “When does this thing start?”
I ignore his huge hand caressing my leg. Fingertips brushing the hem that he could easily peel away to reveal my panties underneath. Yet surprisingly he doesn’t broach beyond the edge. Keeping his touch mostly pg-13.
“Thisthingstarts in about two minutes. You’re just in time.”
Humor floods his voice but he doesn’t stop stroking my thigh. Almost comforting to him as stimulating as his touch is to me.
“Do you really like boxing this much? To stay up past two am to watch it?”
