Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Ah. So all the containers of sauce in the freezer that Gia showed me…” I trailed off.
He narrowed his eyes. “You saw that, did you?”
I laughed. “Yes. But Gia told me you cook as well.”
“I prefer to grill, but I was hungry and pasta is fast.” He dropped some noodles into the boiling water. “Three minutes, dinner will be ready. You like shrimp, right?”
“Love it.”
“Okay. I thought we’d eat on the patio. It was supposed to rain but looks as if it passed us. We’ll eat there.”
“What can I do?”
“Take the wine and salad outside. I’ll bring the pasta.”
“No garlic bread?”
He shook his head. “That is such an Americanized thing. I have some focaccia Gia made earlier if you want.”
“Please.”
I carried the tray outside, setting it on the table. The sky was dull, but it was still pleasant. Roomba lay on the warm stone, looking content. I bent and rubbed her tummy. She opened one eye and rolled over, ignoring me. Typical. I returned inside and got the focaccia from Dante, and he followed me with the steaming bowls. I sat down, eyeing the shrimp and fettuccine with admiration. It smelled divine.
“Lemon cream and white wine sauce,” Dante offered. “One of Gia’s specialties. I love it with the shrimp and some fresh cheese on top.”
I took a bite, unable to hold in my groan. It was incredible. Dante’s hand froze as he poured the wine, and he shook his head slightly as if to clear it, then he finished filling the glasses and began to eat. We were mostly quiet as we chewed, although I complimented him on the food. He finished first, sitting back and sipping his wine.
“What you said in the car earlier, about why Winters hates you.”
“It’s a long story. Another time.” His tone brooked no argument. I was burning with curiosity, but I knew not to push it. I tried his favorite subject.
“Is there anything you like aside from cakes?” I asked.
“I love all sweets. Cakes are my favorite, but I like pies. Cookies.”
“What kinds of cookies?” I wiped my mouth. “I don’t see you as a chocolate chip kind of guy.”
“They’re fine. But I like peanut butter. My favorite is a kind my mom used to make when I was little. I haven’t had them for a long time.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t remember the name. They were really simple. Just a good cookie. Soft and chewy. They had cinnamon on them.”
“Snickerdoodles?”
“Yes!” he exclaimed, smacking the table. “I used to eat them by the handful with milk. My mom kept raw dough in the freezer to bake all the time when I was young.”
“Ah. So you were crazy for desserts even then?” I kept a straight face. “They had ovens in the old days? Did those exist in prehistoric times?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You think you’re funny?”
“Yes.”
“One day,” he threatened. “One day, I won’t let that pass.”
I picked up the dishes and stacked them on the tray. “So you keep saying.”
He caught me in the kitchen, pressing against me, his chest to my back. “As soon as you beg, I’ll show you, Little Bee. I’ll take you so good and so hard, you won’t remember your name. And every time you call me old man, I’ll fuck you again. Until you’re screaming my name. And I’ll keep going. I’ll fuck you until one of us passes out from exhaustion.” He bit down on my earlobe, brushing my nipples with his thumbs as he cupped my breasts. “And my stamina is strong, little girl. So strong.” He bent and ghosted his lips over my neck.
I whimpered.
“You keep it up,” he added.
“Isn’t that your job?” I quipped.
“Don’t worry, baby. It’s up every time you’re around. And one day, you’ll tip me over the edge, and I won’t be able to wait.”
He spun me in his arms, our faces so close together our breath mingled. “That time gets shorter every time you mouth off and call me an old man. Revenge is going to be sweet—for both of us.”
He cupped my face and bit my bottom lip, running his tongue over it. Then he stood back, releasing me. I stumbled a little, and he caught me, making sure I was steady before letting me go.
Our eyes locked.
“Soon,” he said. “Very soon.”
Unable to relax, I dug through the cupboards, finding everything I needed. I had heard Dante climb the steps to the third floor, and I knew he’d be in his office for a while. Gia had shown me how to use the oven, and I turned it on to heat and got busy. I measured and mixed, hoping I recalled the recipe correctly. Roomba came in, wound around my ankles, then headed back outside. She loved being able to roam in and out. She stayed in the area around the pool, wandering to the grass and among the bushes, but seemed content to stay close.