Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
As we drive, I sneak glances at him, remembering our sex the night before. I think of him naked--all chiseled muscle, dark, manly curls dusting his chest. Using him out of financial desperation isn’t really a sacrifice. He doesn’t seem like the kind who has to buy a lover. In fact, I’m surprised he doesn’t have women throwing themselves at his feet. Of course, maybe he does…
Either way, it doesn’t matter. This is a temporary situation, obviously. I won’t get emotionally involved because it’s not a real relationship. It’s more like a job or a position. A position that might be easy because of the great boss.
He drives to his apartment and parks in an underground parking lot, leading me to the elevator with his hand at my low back. He kisses me on the way up, and I melt with each persistent stroke of his tongue. By the time we reach his floor, my skin tingles for his touch.
“So this is the place.” Bobby tosses me the keys after he opens the door to his apartment. “The washer and dryer are in that closet over there. Garbage gets dumped in the bin in the parking garage. The cleaners come in every other Tuesday, around noon.”
Cleaners? Um, wow. Hell, yes, I will live in a luxe apartment that comes with a bi-monthly cleaning service!
“The gym is on the top floor, and the pool is on the roof. Your door key opens both.”
This is too good to be true. The high-rise apartment shines with posh polished hardwood floors, granite countertops, and gleaming stainless appliances. I never lived in any sort of luxury—my lower-middle-class Jersey upbringing and making ends meet as a hair stylist hasn’t afforded such opulence.
I look around, imagining what it would be like to make this arrangement with Bobby long-term. To have this be my place. To settle into something semi-permanent with him.
Of course, that will never happen. But I’ll receive right now.
I twist the keys around my thumb. “So I can stay here? You’re giving me the keys, just like that?”
He steps closer, his hand settling on my waist. “Yeah. I like you, Lexi.” He lowers his head. “You’re hot as fuck. You’re responsive as hell in bed. And my gut says you’re a good person.”
I wrinkle my brow. “But you don’t even know me. Aren’t you afraid I’ll walk off with your television or something?”
He scoffs. “Nobody steals from Bobby Manghini.”
The reality of his statement hits home. Of course not. No one robs a mafia boss if they want to live. The blood drains from my face.
He must notice because he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me against the hard planes of his body. My hands come to his chiseled chest. “Hey,” he says softly. “That wasn’t a threat. I know you wouldn’t steal from me.”
My pulse quickens at his nearness. The simultaneous danger and reassurance of this man who feels so much larger-than-life than any guy I’ve dated before. “How do you know?” I persist.
“I know people. You have moral standards.”
“What else do you think you know about me?”
“I know the fact that you need this place is the only reason you’re getting involved with a guy like me. I know it goes against your better instincts. But I also know you liked the sex, and you’re ready for more.”
I stare at him, shocked at how easily he reads me. My nipples go hard at the mention of sex—he’s right on all accounts. I do want him again. I liked the sheer animalism of the way he handled me. The confidence. The dominant but attentive way he touched my body. And how he was in tune with me. Licking my lips, I ask, “So, what do I need to know about, um, our arrangement?”
“Here’s the deal. You make yourself available to me. If you’re not working at the hair salon, your time is mine. You don’t have to sit around and wait for me—I’ll text you in advance, but you don’t tell me you’re busy, yeah? If you have plans, you change them.”
“Okay.”
“No men here, ever. You don’t sleep with or date other men.”
“Capisce,” I say, trying out my Italian.
His lips twitch. “Capito,” he corrects.
“Capito. Sorry. I’m a quick learner, I promise.”
“Yeah, you’re a smart girl, I know that. You listen more than you talk, and you don’t make dumb remarks.”
“Is that your definition of smart?”
He looks amused, his brown eyes all-knowing, the thick dark lashes giving him a permanently sultry look. “Yeah.”
A lick of heat sets my nether region on fire when our eyes catch and hold.
“This is an arrangement. I’m not your boyfriend. Don’t make demands of me. I’ll take good care of you, but I call the shots.”
“Understood,” I agree. I chew on the inside of my cheek. “You’re definitely not married?”