My legs begin to shake harder, and my breath comes in gasps as I feel myself yanked closer and closer to an edge I’ve never achieved myself. My hand squeezes his shaft as an orgasm rocks through me. My inner walls tighten, and I cry out, violent shudders breaking through my body. I fall against him, bad leg and all, as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me, making my knees weak and my vision blurry.
“Fuck, fuuuck!” Antonio grunts into my neck, thrusting his cock into my fisted hand twice before I feel it swell and jerk, coating my hand with wet heat. His voice is muffled into my neck as he rocks his hips against my hand, his body tense against mine until he’s spilled everything, then he goes slack against me.
A long silence follows as the fog slowly clears from my mind, and I realize what position we are in. I start to push him back when I remember his bad leg, so I carefully nudge him away from me, not daring to meet his eyes.
Christ, where was my self-control?
I glance down at my hands and the sticky cum painting my fingers. "I…I'll go clean up and, um…grab a towel for you," I say, not daring to meet his eyes as I rush into his bathroom. I wash my hands in his sink and glance up at the mirror, gasping at the darkening hickey on the left side of my neck. Shit, everyone at work saw me leave with Richard and will probably think he gave it to me.
I stare at the love bite for a long time before I realize that I’m stalling. I can’t hide in the bathroom forever, so I decide I might as well face the man. We have to talk about what happened tonight—well, before the touching and the kissing.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath before heading back into the bedroom, wet towel in hand. Antonio is seated on the bed and doesn’t say a word as he cleans himself. I dispose of the towel, and when I come back, he's already under the covers, those golden eyes tracking me.
"If you want to go out, no one is going to stop you, but you are not to leave this house without a security escort."
“What?” I gape at the man, words failing me. Is this how he’s going to act? Pretend that we both didn’t help each other get off? Still, my glare doesn’t seem to faze him. That gorgeous face remains blank, and those eyes show nothing of the affection I’m always hoping to see in them.
“I think it would be best if you took a few days off work. At least until we catch the shooter. You’re safer here than out there.”
How can he touch me the way he did and say the things he said and just…pretend that it all never happened? Am I supposed to do the same? We kiss, we touch, and then…nothing. It’s over and done with.
Christ, I could have fallen in love with any of the Rossi brothers, but I fell for this one. Fell so hard, in fact, that digging myself out feels impossible.
“Emilia?”
I turn around and begin walking away before my brain can register what my body is doing. He calls out to me as I open the bedroom door, but I don’t stop or turn around.
Antonio Rossi can go to hell!
His voice is the last thing I hear before I slam his door shut.
Chapter Four
Antonio
I fucked up.
Usually, I’m a lot smoother with women. I don't blow hot and cold or get jealous when I imagine them with other men, but there is just something about Emilia. I never seem to know what to do when I’m around her.
I must have pushed her to her limits last night, and I don’t blame her one bit for avoiding me and instead sending Silvia to help change my dressing at the crack of dawn.
Fucking hell!
It’s not a question of whether I am attracted to Emilia Conti. I’ve wanted her since the second I saw her at Matteo’s wedding. It would be so fucking easy if I only wanted to have sex with her and bring us both pleasure, then move on. But what fucks with me the most is the fact that my feelings for her run deeper than lust.
The thing is…I can’t fall in love.
Not with her. Not with anyone.
And if I were a better man, I would leave her the fuck alone. I am fucked because I can’t have her, but I can’t fucking stay away. Hell, though, the thought of another man touching her drives me into a jealous rage. Tempts me into grabbing mygun and hunting down every man who dares to want her, to look at her.
Fuck, I want her so much, but I can't have her.
I should give her space. It's clear she wants nothing to do with me. I manage to talk myself into staying out of her way until about noon when I look for her in the one place I know she’d be holed up in.
The library.
I use the cane to navigate around the house and hesitate when I stop outside the library door. I don’t need to look to tell she’s in there. Even as a child, she gravitated to this room. Sometimes, Silvia would search the house looking for her, and they’d always find her in some corner of the library, seated on the floor with her head buried in a book.
