Like I’m going to argue.
But as he pulls off my clothes right there on the couch, I say tentatively, “You want me to put out any feelers onCute Crims? Julian doesn’t exactly shy away from the limelight. Someone might have seen him.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea,” he says, tugging down his pants. “You are worth your weight in gold to me,tesoro mio. You and yourCute Crims.”
“I have the cutest of them all,” I tell him with a grin, as I push him over and climb on top. “I hope you know that, Alessandro.”
He still has his phone in his hand, and as I strip off my tee, he snaps a photo of me. “Bellissimo,” he sighs, looking at it, and then me.
Then he surprises me.
“Come here,” he says, pulling me down into a hug. “We don’t have any pictures of us together.” He holds his phone over the both of us, frowning a little as he tries to center the framing. A click sounds, and he inspects the photograph, his frown intensifying. “You weren’t looking at the camera,” he says, showing me. “And I forgot to smile.”
I don’t trust myself to speak, so I take the phone from him and study the picture while I swallow down the lump in my throat. “You look amazing,” I say at last.
And he does. His dark eyes burn like fire, stark and intense as he frowns at the viewer. His hair is perfectly styled as always, his jaw strong and set, his expression inscrutable. The jagged scar tells a compelling story. He looks mysterious. Dangerous.Powerful.
And in the picture, like he said, I’m looking at him, my expression clear for all to read.
Love.
“This is—it’s amazing, Alessandro. You lookincredible. Will you send it to me?”
“We should take another one,” he says. “I should be smiling.”
“No.” I roll over on top of him and kiss his nose. “This one is perfect.Perfetto.”
“Perfetto,” he repeats for me, rolling the ‘r,’ tapping on the ‘t.’ He’s been trying to teach me Italian, but he says my accent is terrible. He looks at the phone again. “Is it really?”
I plant a kiss at the side of his mouth. “Yes.Perfetto. Send it to me.”
He gives a little hum of resignation. “If you’re sure. I was going to say, why not put it up onCute Crims?”
I go very still. “You mean it?”
He looks into my eyes. “If you will answer one question honestly,topolino. Is it cute enough?”
“Are youkiddingme?” I choke out, trying to squish down the weird sobbing sensation in my chest. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s cute. It’s gorgeous.”
He gives a pleased little half-smile. “Then put it up,” he says, like it’s no big deal.
“Seriously?” A thought strikes me. “Oh. I’ll have to blur me out of it, though—I’m not a made man. That’s the rule.”
He mock-pouts. “But that’s not fair for your users. You’re the cute part of the photo. I’m just the crim.”
I chuckle, already increasing the blur filter over my face. “Oh, believe me. They’re going to be creaming in their jeans over you.”
“I doubt that. But go on, I suppose; post it.”
I send it to the site as he watches, captioned:New photo: Exclusive! Alessandro Castellani. I’m about to put my phone down and get back to making out, when my notifications begin to explode.
Stunning!
WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU GET THIS OMG
So HOTTTget in my bed
My eyes have been blessed
