“No, of course not. Being nice to people is part of the job. I make a ton of money from brand collaborations and shit, but if I want to build my own brand, I need to diversify. Nolene says acting would be a good fit for me.”
“But why? You’re a Di Rossi. You’re fucking loaded.”
“I am a Di Rossi, yes, but I’m not loaded, Chiara. My father may have acknowledged me as his biological son, but I’m not part of the family.”
“But you’re here, in Angelo’s mansion.” His words make no sense.
“Only because my half brother sees me as a loose cannon. He’s not stupid. He knows I could cause problems if I started talking to the press, which means I can come and go while we all pretend I’m a legitimate family member.”
The bitterness and hurt he so clearly feels seep into his words, but I ignore that revelation.
“Let’s go back to the actress. Why is this Nolene telling you to make the bitch happy? Does she want you to fuck her?”
“Because Angelina says she’ll put in a good word for me with her casting director if I’m nice to her.” The casual way he shrugs riles me. Does he think the only way he can persuade someone to hire him is by leveraging his sexuality?
“Fuck that, Luka,” I snarl. His eyebrows shoot up again, like he’s genuinely surprised by my reaction. “You are worth more than that.”
“Am I?” He chuckles disparagingly.
Before he can say another word, I move so I’m sitting astride him, my hands cupping his face. The solar lights have dimmed,but I can still see Luka’s face in the green glow from the swimming pool. His pretty blue eyes remind me of the Texas sky.
I fall into them as memories of the endless sun-bleached farmland stretching as far as the eye could see assail me. As much as I hated the Texas heat, I enjoyed the sense of freedom I gained from living in the Lone Star State. But I shove those memories back. The chances of me ever returning are slim to none. Not if Angelo has his way.
“You are sexy as hell, funny, and kind,” I tell Luka. “Any woman would be lucky to have you on their arm, and if she thinks your dick is the only part of you worth knowing, she’s wrong.” Luka blinks. “Not that I’m saying your dick isn’t worth knowing,” I clarify. “Trust me, it is.”
The body part I’m referencing thickens beneath me at the compliment. Rough denim chafes my thighs as I move to relieve the pressure in my core, eliciting a low groan from Luka.
“I should hire you as my cheerleader,” he jokes.
“I feel like you need one,” I reply, and his smile fades.
“Nolene means well.”
“I’m no expert, but isn't an agent supposed to have your best interests at heart?”
The small huff of amusement from him tells me he knows I’m right. If I ever have the displeasure of meeting the woman, she and I will be having words.
“Wanna be my manager, cupcake?”
My lips curve up in a grin. “I’m not suremy husbandwants me to get a job. He seems to prefer me as a trad-wife.”
“You’re about as far from a trad-wife as it’s possible to get,” Luka snorts.
“Damn right,” I giggle. The effects of the joint I smoked still haven’t quite faded, which is why I let my inhibitions slide away. Kissing Luka again is a bad idea. He’s dealing with some shit.Deep shit he’s not ready to share with me. But maybe I can help him feel better while making myself feel better at the same time.
Selfless?
Not at all. But to hell with my good intentions. From the erection throbbing against my clit, Luka needs this as much as I do. And knowing the cameras are watching us makes it so much better.
“Want to make my dear husband jealous?” I whisper as I lean forward, my breasts pressing against Luka’s chest. He bites his lip and groans softly.
“Are you suggesting we do naughty things in full view of the cameras, cupcake?” From the way his blue eyes sparkle, he’s not against the idea.
“Seems only fair to make my husband suffer for his sins.” I moisten my lips. Luka tracks the movement with hungry eyes.
“What makes you think he’s watching?” Luka asks with a smirk. I glance down at his phone screen and grin.
“Because he’s rage-calling you.”
