I unbuckle and put my hand on the door.
“I remember the other night,” I tell him. “The way you looked at me.”
Damian is silent.
I open the car door and step a long leg out. “Or maybe I’m mistaken.”
“You are,” he says.
I look to the ground as I step my other leg out. The cold wind hits my face and ruffles my hair. “If you say so.”
6
Chapter Six
Damian
In the darkness of my guest room at the Fiorelli estate, I can’t get the vision of Alessio’s face out of my mind. The way his long hair had moved in the breeze.
Ten-forty-six at night, and all I can think of is the cold-induced blush on his nose and cheeks. Freckled even.
The way he had spoken to me in the car was more vulnerable than I had expected anyone here to speak to me. Even with the vagueness of it.
I roll over onto my side. I roll onto my back. I roll onto my other side.
I’m restless.
I’m too warm.
I toss the covers off.
Heat travels down my stomach into my groin.
I’m hard.
I’m hard and Alessio’s face is the one in my mind. Not just his face. His tall body. His smooth voice. The look in his eyes.
I know a man questioning his decisions when I see one.
It’s none of my business. There’s no reason for me to care. Not only that, I shouldn’t even be entertaining the thoughts that I have.
The thought of his pink skin under my large hands. The sound of his voice whispering my name.
Guilt floods over me. Through me. Deep into my bone.
Eleven-thirty-one. I’m still awake. I’m still rock hard.
All this over a man. As though I’m just some horny degenerate and not working for two of the most powerful families in Italy.
I swallow hard and roll onto my stomach. I sandwich my dick between the bed and my body. I can feel it throbbing. Blood pulsing.
Is this just lust? Is that really all it is? I barely know the man. So, it has to be.
Even if my heart squeezes when I think about the sadness in his voice.
I shut my eyes tighter.
It’s midnight. My length is still aching between myself and the bed. I can’t take it.
