Rosa stopped struggling and tilted her head back, allowing me deeper contact. Her hands slid from my six-pack to my shoulders and finally reached my neck. As she wrapped her arms around it, she pressed harder against me while my hard-on dug in to her stomach. A moan escaped her while my hands clenched her ass and brought her off the ground, essentially making her wrap her legs around my waist. God, I was dying to place her on the nearest surface and fuck her brains out until she forgot about everything else but us. Maybe that would speed up her temporary memory loss, or whatever fucked-up name her diagnosis was called. Unable to resist, I glided my palm under her shirt, needing to feel her bare skin and fuck me, it was as soft as I remembered. My lungs burned from the desire to breathe, but I couldn't let go. Not now, maybe not fucking ever.
But her needs always came first, and palming my face, she removed her mouth from mine, gulping the air while my lips shifted to her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses on her skin. My fists clenched on her back from the inability to mark her, as I couldn't expose our connection for now. Running my tongue through the silver chain of my cross, I grinned at the fact she still had it and never took off. Thank fuck for that.
Resting my forehead on hers, we breathed heavily, and I was ready to push her against the wall and do the deed, especially knowing how much she wanted me. She kept grinding against me, wanting to find the friction, which I guessed probably confused the hell out of her.
“Hey, Connie, have you seen Angelica? They told me she should be in the ER.” Oliver’s voice echoed in the room, despite the usual hospital noise, and we both stilled for a second. Then, she quickly demanded with her body language for me to put her down. We barely had time to separate and smooth out our clothes, when he stepped inside, his eyes widening as his gaze moved between us.
“Dominic.” He frowned, but still extended his free hand to me and I shook it. Be it the example of my fucking patience that I didn't crush it in my grip, hating Oliver just for the sake of being my Rosa’s fiancé. Guilty or not, in that moment, I wished to kill him. “What an unexpected meeting.” Shifting his attention to Rose, he smiled softly and brushed his knuckles over her cheek, while she forced happiness onto her face—as if the appearance of this fucker brought her any joy.
“Hi. He was… hurt.”
Oliver nodded and gave her the bag he was holding. “Here’s some dinner for you. I thought I’d stop by tonight, since tomorrow you have a bachelorette party with the girls.” She even had a celebration of this union?
I’d slap her ass so hard once I finally got her in my bed; she wouldn't be able to sit for a whole week without it stinging. Mykrasavicadidn't have to be so into this marriage, even if she didn't know she wasn't Angelica.
Rational at this moment I was not.
“We’ll you see you later, Oliver.” Squeezing his shoulder a bit harder than necessary, I decided to leave before I succumbed to the desire to snatch her away from here.
Reaching the front desk, I noticed Michael and Vitya in a heated argument over some personal stuff, and by the grim expression on Vitya’s face, he didn't like what Michael said. Whatever the fuck happened to our happy couple?
They stopped once I stood in front of them, and Michael gave me a run down on the situation. “He’s still in surgery. It might take several hours. I can stay here. You guys can go and do your stuff.”
I didn't miss how Vitya disliked the plan, but kept myself neutral in this. Their personal life was none of my business until it interfered with their work. Michael raised his brow up and down suggestively. “You have some girls’ night out to get ready for, huh?” I flipped him off as he laughed loudly. Ignoring them both, I took out my phone and walked to the entrance, deciding to finally have the conversation I had put off for so long. Even though Damian went back to Russia, while Connor brought Sapphire and Kristina with him, I couldn't let him be the one to deliver the news. I owed my twin enough already; sometimes I felt like I could never repay him for all the help he’d given me.
On the fifth ring, Don picked up the phone, answering with a raspy voice. “Hello?”
Clearing my throat, I replied, “Don, we need to talk.”
Rosa
“Thank you so much,” I said to Oliver, dumbstruck still from the earlier scene, while he shrugged with a boyish grin.
“Just happy to help my little nurse,” he joked. “Busy night, huh?”
Nodding, I sat down on the bed, hoping it would calm my rapidly beating heart. My fingers touched my burning lips, while for a second, I closed my eyes, remembering our passionate kiss. His tight embrace, hot body, and overwhelming feeling of belonging.
Cheating, Angelica. It was freaking cheating! Three days before your wedding!
Even though my mind screamed those reasons at me, I couldn't feel guilty, no matter how much I tried. Maybe because, in this kiss, I somehow found myself and didn't question anything. How could it be possible? Dominic Konstantinov was a stranger, yet it did nothing to reduce my desire or curiosity for him.
“Angelica?” Oliver asked, while raising my chin with his index finger and thumb, gazing straight into my eyes. For a second, I noticed guilt and pity in them, but for what, I didn't know. “Are you all right?”
Licking my lips, I nodded, although I felt anything but.
One thing was clear.
Dominic Konstantinov was a dangerous drug that my body craved, but I had to stay away from him. Otherwise, he threatened to bring chaos in my life, as insane as it sounded.
Rosa
“To hard-ons and orgasms!” Ciara shouted, while the girls around us hooted approvingly as we licked the salt, threw back tequila shots and then sucked on lemons quickly.
The liquid burned my throat then immediately warmed me up inside as a giggle escaped my lips. “I think we should stop for a while,” I said, wiping my sticky hands on a tissue, my head dizzy from the four shots we’d done.
“Are you kidding me? You have a bachelorette party only once! No way in freaking hell, missy!” she exclaimed, and motioned the bartender for another round while I studied the bar around us. The establishment opened here recently. The main restaurant was in New York, but the owner wanted to explore the Italian market. So he recreated the bar here, down to the small details, and based on the pictures on the web, the places were identical. The menu here had more Italian stuff, but that was as far as the differences went.
My feet swung back and forth, as I sat on the tall chair, one leg thrown over the other as I rested my chin on my palm.
