My encouragement made him smile.“Say it again.Say my name.Tell me who owns you.”
I panted.“Ringo.”It was a warning, but also a plea.“You fucker.”
He planted deep.So deep, I pulsed around him once.It wasn’t an orgasm, but it might have been a warning.“My name, baby.”
I met his eyes.“Say mine.”
“Ellie.”He stroked out and then resumed his deep penetration and held there.“I l?—”
His eyes were hooded.Even as we hung there, listening to the echoes of his near mistake, I knew.
“Ringo?I love you.I have since you left me in Venice.Remember?You were such a gentleman that you told me to enjoy my vacation.And you left.”
His eyes closed, but his grip on my hips tightened.“I remember.”
“And then, you came back.”My voice quivered a little.“And I loved you a little more.Each time you come back, it happens whether I want it to or not.I love you.”
The anguish on his face was real.“You shouldn’t.”
I grabbed his hair.“Shut up and fuck me.”
“Baby…” His body curled into mine and he whispered my name against my skin.“Ellie, you own me.I don’t know?—”
“Shhh…” I arched so he’d move and he did.Each stroke held promise, lies, and the intriguing sharpness of two souls who knew the other intimately, thoroughly, and completely.While the memories weren’t there, the recognition was.We fit.
He pumped harder, digging for that light we both knew once but had lost.I clung to him, tearing at him to plead silently for help to rip down the walls we’d built.Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as I said his name over and over.
Ringo dug deep, a cry on his lips and his heart in those echoes.And I followed him with a final mental swing like a sledgehammer crashing inside and bursting forth with agony.
As the flutters quieted, he kissed my shoulder.His voice was barely a whisper.Maybe even softer than that.A breath.A secret?
“I love you.”
Why did his whispered confession make me want to cry?
16
Ringo
The hard case of my phone rattled on the nightstand.Ellie was wrapped around me so tightly, I could barely move.
Luckily, she was a sound sleeper after the nightmares wore her out.I slipped an arm free and stretched to grab the buzzing annoyance before it rattled right off the edge.The screen displayed a familiar number.
“I’m up.”My raspy voice and the whisper I used so I wouldn’t wake Ellie told the caller that I was lying.
“Are you alone?”Mario’s sharp question jarred me because I’d been expecting the gruff and heavily-accented tones of the family’s shot-caller who always observed social niceties before talking business.
“Hang on.”
I could practically see the expression on my friend’s face.He hated my obsession with Ellie, thinking it distracted me.It did.Last night’s failure being immediate proof.I moved to the laundry room which was in an obscure offshoot of the flat.
“I’m clear.Whatcha got?”
I must be on speakerphone because Don Manca spoke next.“What are your intentions with my granddaughter’s sister?”
Shit.I thought he was on board with this.“What do you mean, my intentions?You’re the one who sent me here.”
“I did not tell you to set her up as your mistress.”
