Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
When he presses his lips against mine, I repeat the mantra over and over. Business, business … Then he makes a groaning noise of pure hunger and wraps his arms around me. He pulls me close, and then I feel his manhood pushing against me through his workout shorts. He can’t fake that, surely. Even if he could, why would he?
I let out a stifled moan as he opens his mouth, his tongue finding mine in a flurry of pure, natural desire. I try to do some internal self-talk to chill myself out, but I can’t think about anything other than the kiss. It’s all I can focus on as he grinds against me.
He growls and grips my hips like he’s been waiting his whole life for this. Is he an even better actor than I am? Lifting me up, he puts me on the table. What am I doing? I wrap my legs around him. He pushes his manhood against my sex. Thank God I’m wearing jeans, but I can still feel him, his huge solidness grinding against me as he shifts back and forth.
There’s another growl from him, another moan from me. He breaks the kiss off but keeps his face close to mine, our noses tickling each other.
“We can’t do this at the party, Mafia man,” I say.
He smiles. Not a lip twitch. Not a distant and calculating smirk. An actual full-fledged smile. “You might have a point there.” He lets out a shuddering breath. “In your expert opinion, can an actor ever rehearse too much?”
“No,” I say, knowing what he’s getting at.
He crashes his lips against mine again. This time, I drag my hands up his arms, savoring the feel of his hard muscles. His arms bulge as much as his manhood like his body is telling me how badly he truly wants me.
I’m not sure how far this would go. My body is steaming up like I’m inside a sauna. My heart is beating so forcefully that it might burst, and I can’t think—not about anything other than us, this closeness, this heat. It’s so new to me. It’s so hot. I almost scream just to let out some of the tension.
Then Clara walks into the room. She turns immediately, but it shatters the moment.
“Excuse me,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Clara,” I say, as Dario moves away and I hop down from the table. I’m breathless, my head spinning. I have to be careful. This can never work for real. Aunt Rosa wouldn’t let it. His parents wouldn’t allow it. He’s too violent. He’s a criminal. I need to remember why I’m here.
“Yes,” Dario says. “No apology needed. I need to go. See you this evening, Elena.”
“See you later,” I murmur.
Clara steps aside as he leaves, then moves toward the table without looking at me. I spot her eyeing up some dish I couldn’t even guess its name.
“Are you hungry, Clara?” I ask.
“Uh … no, miss.”
“Hey, look at me.” She does, seeming nervous. “You can tell the truth.”
“It’s not my place …”
“It’s better than wasting this food. Let’s eat breakfast together. I’ve worked up an appetite.”
I’m smiling like an idiot, like a girl who doesn’t understand her situation, but I do understand. That’s the thing. I know he’s a criminal. I know, logically, I shouldn’t let myself want him, but that kissing was way more than acting.
As Clara and I eat, I try to remember how dark he looked when he said he was going to do bad things today. I try to imagine what they are, but picturing Dario doing anything morally wrong feels difficult after what we just shared.
Just business …
However, that didn’t feel like a transaction.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DARIO
Isit in the shadows in the storage room of the bar. Beneath a naked lightbulb, a Romano soldier is tied to a chair, blood running from his nose and leaking from his scalp, dripping down his cheeks like tears. In my mind, I wonder what Elena would say if she could see me now. I know she’d hate it. I know she’d be disgusted. No civilian is ever prepared for what mafiosi life is really like.
“Are you trying to tell us that the vandalism of the charity is completely unrelated to my meeting with your boss?” I ask.
The man shudders, his lips trembling. “I don’t know nothing.”
I sigh, gesturing at Allessio. He slaps the man across the face so hard that the chair falls to the floor. Paolo quickly rights it, and then Allessio hits him again.
“Nobody is getting any enjoyment out of this. You’re well known to us as a lead soldier in this area. You’re wasting our time by keeping your mouth shut. It’s just going to cause you more pain.”
Again, I feel Elena watching me in the back of my head. It makes me feel too damn vulnerable. When I said we should kiss for practice, part of me meant it. Though part of me just wanted to taste her sassy lips, wanted to feel the curves of her body. I got carried away big time. My dick still aches every time I think about it.