Page 88 of Giovanna

Slowly one corner of her mouth curls upward into a smirk and she winks before turning her back on me.

That wink will haunt me forever, I’m sure of it. It is torturously sexy and reminds me how entirely out of my reach she is.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Giovanna

“Thanks, Doc,” I say as I walk her toward the door. Francesca only needed a few stitches and her wound is now protected by a big white dressing.

“I’ll just check back in on Bluey and then I’ll be off,” she responds briskly.

I close the door to my office slowly, I need time to think. Kissing Francesca was completely inappropriate. She is engaged to Elio for a start, plus she is only 24. I also feel bad for instigating it when she was fuckin’ traumatised and in shock. I need to apologise.

It feels so wrong to apologise for something that felt so right, though. It was the sweetest, softest kiss I’ve ever had and god do I want more. It has been so hard to push away the attraction I feel for her, ever since she came back from the UK. Everything about her sings to me. She hits every one of my turn-ons and tonight the way she sought protection in my arms just felt so goddamn right.

Her big brown eyes widen slightly as I approach, full of expectation and a little bit of worry. I sit next to her, leaving a bit of distance so we aren’t touching. Disappointment draws like curtains across her beautiful face and it hurts me to see the hurt in those expressive eyes.

“You okay?” I ask tentatively, running a hand through my hair.

She shrugs and leans away from me as if to start building a protective force around herself. “Mostly, I guess. I’m not looking forward to hearing you tell me you regret kissing me though.” Tears well in her eyes and she swallows hard.

I swallow the lump in my own throat. “It’s not that I regret it. It was fuckin’ perfect, darlin’. I just need to apologise to you for laying it on when you’ve just been bloody traumatised. It was wrong of me -”

She interrupts me with uncharacteristic snappiness. “Don’t apologise to me. I don’t want to hear it. It was everything I wanted and wouldn’t take it back. Don’t ruin it for me.”

“You’re engaged to my brother,” I whisper, reaching out for her hand. She lets me take it but doesn’t respond to the thumb I stroke over her knuckles.

“I don’t want to be and he doesn’t want to marry me either. I’ve-I’ve wanted you, forever,” her voice cracks and she won’t meet my eye. “Ugh, why do I keep allowing myself to be humiliated by Marinos,” she whispers more to herself than to me.

“There is nothing for you to be humiliated about, Francesca. This isn’t about me not wanting you. I’m aching for you, honestly. Everything in me is screaming just to kiss you again, but I’m trying to do the right thing by you and by theFamiglia.”

She looks up and stares for a moment and then before I know it she has closed the distance between us and is climbing onto my lap to straddle me. I lean back and rest my head on the back of the sofa, looking up at her determined face. She places her hands on my chest and her hair slides over one of her shoulders to cascade over me. I can’t help reaching out to touch it.

“I don’t care about what we should or shouldn’t do or what is best for theFamiglia,” she whispers fiercely. “I need you.”

Fuck. Those three words. Her neediness speaks to my deep-set desire to protect and dominate. I groan and before I can second guess myself, I grasp the back of her head and pull her mouth down onto mine.

Our second kiss is more urgent than our first. It’s needier, hungrier. My tongue sweeps around her sweet mouth, desperately exploring her taste. Her delicate fingers touch my face and she slides down my legs more so that our pelvises are pressed as closely together as possible.

She tugs my bottom lip into her mouth and nibbles at it, her hands cupping my jaw. I try to reason with myself to stop this, but I know I am too far gone. If I don’t have her tonight, I feel like I’ll combust.

But, I need to get her out of these bloody clothes, so I pull back and take her hands off my face. She frowns and it is the most adorably furious expression I’ve ever seen.

“No,” she states. “Don’t ruin it,” she pulls a hand back and presses her index finger to my lips.

I chuckle. “I won’t. I need you too,” I admit. “But we need to get you cleaned up.”

Scooting forward on the sofa, I wrap my arms around her and stand up. Her legs squeeze around my hips and her arms loop my neck. I carry her through the door that joins my office to my bedroom suite and she dots little kisses over my face and neck. Her sweetness will be the fucking death of me.

I set Francesca down on the counter in my en suite and get a bubble bath running. She watches my every move and unzips the side of her dress so she can tug it over her head. A groan escapes me at the sight of her tan slender body wearing only a matching black lace lingerie set.

The groan gives her confidence. She smiles sexily and reaches behind her to unclasp her bra. I’m frozen as her perfect handfuls spring out of their cups. I move to stand between her legs and immediately cup both of her breasts, running my thumbs over her little dark nipples. Lifting and squeezing them together, I drop my head to kiss each one. “Fuck,” I rasp, pushing my face in between them. She giggles and drags me back up for a kiss.

“Are you going to get in with me?” she asks coyly.

“If I'm invited, yeah. But, we have to be careful not to get your bandage wet.”

She starts unbuttoning my shirt. “Oh, you’re definitely invited.”

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