Page 28 of Vincenzo
What the fuck?
I lie there in shock as the warm liquid shoots out all over my chest. When he’s done, I draw my attention up to him, and he has that shit-eating grin on his face while he pulls his pants back up and buckles them.
“What the hell was that?” I snap.
“That, Amalia, was a real orgasm.”
“Obviously, but why the fuck did you make me stop?”
He laughs while staring down at me. “You didn’t think after that little fucking stunt you pulled with Carlos that I’d ever fucking let you finish, did you?” He pauses for a second before continuing. “After all, you’re a sex trafficker—a kidnapper—and I don’t fuck with people like you.”
Without another word, he grabs his jacket and exits my room, leaving me stunned into silence with his cum dripping off my chest and my vibrator nowhere to be seen.
14
AMALIA
While pouring myself a cup of coffee, Carlos walks into the kitchen, giving me a tense smile, and says, “Morning.”
Nodding, I say, “Morning … Want one?”
“Please.”
I pour the steaming liquid into a cup and pass him the creamer and sugar. After a few uncomfortable moments of silence, Carlos says, “So… about last night.”
I shake my head and let out a sigh. “Look, I really need to apologize. I know it’s not fair how I treated you, it’s just?—”
“It’s okay, Amalia. I get it.”
I wrap my hands around my warm porcelain mug.
“You’ve made the terms of this… relationship pretty clear. I just…”
I wait to see if he’s going to finish that sentence, but all he does is give me a shrug.
“I’m sorry, Carlos. This is going to sound cliché, but it’s me, not you. I’m not interested in any kind of relationship, and I shouldn’t have used you like that last night.”
Carlos chuckles, and the sound lifts some of the tension in the room. “Oh, you can use me like that anytime.”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head, and blow out a humorous breath.
“So,” he says, his tone getting more serious, “what are we going to do about the DiMaggios?”
Right. The DiMaggios. I have to come clean about Vincenzo knowing about the plan. There’s no way we can follow through with this now.
Instead of sleeping last night, I went through the entire suite—except Carlos’s room—and got rid of all the security cameras. So I’m able to have this conversation and move around freely without being watched by that asshole.
“We actually need to talk about that,” I say, my tone matching his.
Carlos raises a bushy brow from over the brim of his mug. “What’s going on?” he asks, setting it on the counter.
“We have a bit of a problem.”
He narrows his gaze on mine.
“The DiMaggios know about the plan to kidnap the wife and sister.”
Carlos doesn’t react, which surprises me. When shit’s about to hit the fan, he’s usually one to talk.
