She snorts, rolling her eyes. “Just because you came-”
“I was happy fingering you. I would have stopped there ...” I wince. Honesty is too damn important to her. “Tonight.”
Her lips press into a thin line. “Yeah. Tonight. So I’ll go and say I’m not fit to watch you, and I’m sure you’ll get whoever you want to replace me and?—”
I cup her face, firm, tilting her chin until she has to meet my gaze. I kiss her forehead softly. “You’re not leaving.”
“Oh, yes, I am.”
So much for not using sex as a weapon. I scoop her up, ignoring her gasp, and stride straight to my room.
She’s not leaving.
Not when I can prove just how much better staying with me is going to be.
EIGHT
Luisa
Why didI let him fuck meagain? I keep thinking I’m better than others because Angelo should be easy to resist, but here I am, falling for him again. How could I possibly have agreed to have sex with him not once, but twice? I gave some of the arresting officers shit for talking about how he was worth a slap on the wrist if it meant getting laid.
They were joking, but now I’m the one cleaning myself in his shower after ...
Closing my eyes, I lean back against the marble wall. Kissing him was a mistake. It opened me up to all this. He said he wouldn’t hurt people because of me and that’s the bare minimum ... for most.
It’s the most a Rossi can offer, an annoying little voice in my head says. It doesn’t matter who he is, it’s the bare minimum. My thoughts ping-pong, my morals beating me down, over and over, until I can barely breathe.
I feel cornered. Powerless. I had more control when Angelo had me pinned in the ring. Because then, I could say no. I could push back, fight, make him move.
And he was just as lost, just as wild, as I felt. Now I’m down to two choices—and I hate them both.
Either I’m under Rossi’s thumb or I transfer to another precinct to run from him. Neither feels like winning. I close my eyes, turning the water hotter. Maybe I can burn the memory of his touch off me.
“You’re too strong to make faces like that,” Angelo murmurs.
I glance at him, still naked from our last round. He watches me, his gaze trailing every movement as I work soap over my skin. His eyes darken.
I notice his cock stirring—hardening.
I point at him. “Not again.”
“Prude,” he mutters, the corner of his mouth lifting.
I know he’s teasing—because he got what he wanted. He wanted me. And he got me. Less than two weeks. That’s all it took.
I’m sure he’s patting himself on the back, smug as hell.
Why the fuck did I say yes? Why did I encourage it?
I even ordered him to fuck me.
I shake my head, rinsing off again, trying to wash off the mistake.
“Are you planning to stay in here until I’m asleep?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I scoff. “Because we’re not sleeping together.”
I turn, meeting his gaze. “I have lines. And I’ll be gone tomorrow, anyway.”
