He never could risk her knowing. He couldn’t betray her trust like that. She felt safe with him. To her, he was the older guy, the friend of the family, the mature best friend.
Mature my ass. One glance at that tiny dimple in the middle of her bottom lip, and he became a horny teenager going on a first date with the most beautiful girl he’d ever met.
Besides, having feelings for her was not the only secret he had to keep from her.
I’m fucked.
“Signor Gennaro,” one of the brunettes sang in a terrible accent, her head popping out from the bedroom. “Ready for bed?”
He should be. Seeing Maggie in the flesh had his entire body primed. But the thought of being with anyone else, when she was in the same city he was, made his stomach turn.
Nice. He couldn’t be with her, and he couldn’t be with any other girl. Maybe he should just give up now and be a monk.
“No.” His eyebrows hitched. “You can take your friend and go.” He dropped on a chair. “I’m not in the mood anymore.”
She pouted, trotting toward him, the other girl behind her. “We can put you back in the mood, signor.” She kneeled beside him and helped him out of his dress shoe, the second girl working off the other.
He inhaled, and the weed smell lingering inside the room overwhelmed him. “Don’t think so.”
“Oh.” The second girl’s fingers ran up his pants. “You break my heart.”
“Just tell us what you want, what you need,” The first one whispered in his ear, her tongue around his earlobe. “We’ll do anything for you, signor.”
The second brunette, already stripped to her lace underwear, sat in his lap. “Anything.”
Of course, they would. Most of the girls who ended up in his bed were there for this reason only—they wanted to brag about fucking the A-list celebrity—and that meant they’d give and not take. If they were really lucky, they might get a casual date, but that was it.
He shut his eyes, wishing he could do the same to what he felt inside. Shut it. “Nothing’s gonna work unless your name is Maggie. Either one of you named Maggie?”
“No, but you can call us whatever you want.” She unbuttoned his shirt and pressed her tits hard on his chest. “Imagine having two Maggies on you.” She took his hands and placed them on her tits and then on her friend’s. “Four Maggie tits.” She unbuckled his belt and helped him up. His cock suddenly needed an adjustment.
The other girl took his arm and led him to the bedroom. She unzipped his pants and took off her dress and underwear. “Two Maggie pussies.”
He let out a warm sigh, imagining forbidden pictures of Maggie. How she’d smell. How she’d taste. His cock was fully hard now, sticking up his pants. “Yeah. That will work.”
Scene 8
Maggie
I dug through my purse, searching for the key to my apartment. The dark hallway and the spinning in my head weren’t helping. I evened my breath and managed to put the key in the hole. My feet shuffled across the hardwood floor as my finger found the light switch.
“Maggie.”
I gasped at Kyle’s voice. Then I swore, straining my eyes toward him, reaching behind to the ledge of my working desk for support. He stood from his chair and marched in my direction.
“What the fuck you doing, lurking in the dark like this?” I tossed the key and purse on the desk. “Aren’t you supposed to be in San Francisco?” The words were heavy on my tongue.
“I’m sorry I let myself in, but you gave me a key for emergencies. I’ve been calling you all night. When you didn’t answer, I got worried.” A line appeared between his eyebrows. “Where the hell have you been? And why haven’t you been answering your phone?”
Every drink and drag I had seemed to hit me all over again. I weaved in front of him, my stomach a little upset. Someone with IBS shouldn’t drink as much as I did. He steadied me with his hand on my elbow. “Are you drunk?”
I blinked, willing my head to clear. I failed. “Yes. Stoned, too.”
He huffed a sigh, his features softening. “Come.” He helped me to the bed. “I’ve been worried sick. You could’ve, at least, picked up your phone.”
I leaned down to untie my shoes. “It died, Mike. I’m sorry.”
“Mike?”
