Page 36 of Bittersweet Endings
There was a pause and then:
Peacock!
I should’ve left it at that. Should’ve tossed my phone aside, gone back to ignoring the noise around me. Should’ve let herstew in whatever drunken irritation had her texting me in the first place.
Instead, I called her. Because the fact that she was digging into me made my dick hard. Stepping away from the table, I closed myself off to drown out the music.
She picked up on the third ring, her voice soft, slurred with sleep. “What?”
“That’s how you answer your phone? Nohello? NoCarmine, I was just thinking about you?”
She exhaled, slow, her breath brushing against the speaker. “Why’d you call?”
I let my head tilt back and stared at the ceiling. “You’re drunk, half-asleep, and thinking about me. Are you gonna dream about me too?”
A pause. A shift in the way she breathed. Then a quiet, hesitant: “Was it all a lie?”
Something inside me went sharp, something I didn’t like. I leaned forward, pressing my elbows to my knees. “No. You know that, little doll. It was all real. Every fuckin’ depraved part of you crumbling underneath me. How you wanted me. The sex was dirty. And you… fuckin’ ravenous.”
I could almost see her, curled up in bed, the way her fingers probably dug into the sheets. The way she was probably biting her lip, fighting whatever war was going on inside her.
“Get some sleep,” I murmured. “Tomorrow is one day closer to us both getting what we want.”
Her breath hitched. Then, just barely above a whisper, so quiet I almost missed it, she said, “…What if I want you?”
My fingers tightened around the phone. I let the silence stretch between us, let the words settle, let her feel it. Her sharp gasp echoed as Matteo opened the door, the phone filling with the background noise of the club.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” she barked into the phone. “Go have fun with your little blonde?—”
I chuckled. “Go to sleep, Octavia.”
I ended the call before she could say anything else. Because if I didn’t, I might’ve told her the truth. That I wanted her too. That I was going to come to New York. And I always took what I wanted.
“We’ve got issues,” Matteo said, and I scowled. “He’s still in New York. Lucky is flipping out.”
With that, my phone rang. I glanced down at the screen, but it wasn’t the Agostino I wanted to talk to. To fuck with. To put my hands on. It was her annoying older brother.
My voicemail almost answered before I picked up, Lucky’s voice already edged with irritation. I mocked him, laughing at his cursing.
“You really think this is funny?” He tried using the tone that probably made New York fall into line. But not me.
I smirked, leaning back in silence just long enough to piss him off. “A little.”
Lucky exhaled sharply. “You’re a fucking idiot, Carmine.”
“That’s Mr. Fucking Idiot to you, baby devil.” God, I hated his stupidil diavoloshit. I didn’t need a nickname to destroy cities.
There was a pause, then a low growl from the other end. “Keep calling me that and see what happens.”
I grinned at Matteo. “What? You’ll get all fired up? Burst into flames?” Itsked. “Send me to the fiery pits of hell you were born from? The fuck do you want wasting my time,Lucy?”
Fucker didn’t take the bait, just turned to business. “Listen to me. If JP shows up at the gala, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”
“Hmm.” I pretended to think. “And? Sounds like a New York problem.”
“You let him make a move in my city, there’s going to be bodies, Carmine. You think I want a war?” He paused. “I got my sister back and want your fucked-up family to stay on their own coast.”
I let out a low chuckle, bracing my elbow on the armrest. “You don’t want a war? That’s funny. Because last I checked, your family doesn’t control their own city.” I dropped my voice just enough to make my point sting. “Any more than you control mine.”
