Page 47 of Out of Control

“Great.”

“And if you think I’m going home with you, you’re out of your mind. I’m a goddamn prize.” She does a shimmy that has the lights reflecting off her dress. “And if you don’t want me, someone else will.”

“Careful, Sofia.” You’re striking a match you might not want to light.

“I’ll find someone else who’ll answer my question, then.” She makes a sucking noise with her lips. “Ciao.” She gives a mock salute before walking toward a party attendee heading our way on the sidewalk.

“Hey. Hi. He’s cute,” she says to me about the man she’s approaching. “Sir.” She waves a hand to him. “Hi. Yes, you. One quick and very important question. What do you prefer? Peach Rings or—”

“Nope. Not going to happen,” I say. Sofia yelps as I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder.

“Rossi.” She beats on my ass. “Put me down.” A hard spank on mine to which I reciprocate in kind on hers. The difference is that one gives me way more pleasure than it should.

“Nope. Not on your fucking life and not when you’re asking questions like those to random men. You’re drunk. You need to sleep it off.”

“I do not. The party is just getting started. You’re the fuckboy. The king of the party.” She laughs in protest. “Put. Me. Down.”

“Don’t mind us,” I say to a few people who’ve stopped and stared. It’s not like I can get away with not being recognized in Monaco, but at least they can’t see her face right now. At least no one can pin us as being together.

She gripes all the way home. When I finally set her down and push her into the car. When I all but carry her up the stairs into my penthouse. When I force her to sit and drink a full glass of water and take two ibuprofen.

“You’re a party pooper,” she says and sticks her tongue out at me seconds before she sags on the stool.

“I know,” I murmur as I walk over to her.

“Wait. This isn’t my house. Why didn’t you take me to my house, Ollie?” she slurs.

“Too many eyes on us here, Sofia. I know for certain that my place is private.”

“Oh. Yeah. Good point.” She closes her eyes and is laughing softly until her head droops. “I think I’m a little drunk over here,” she whispers.

“Well aware,” I say as I take a sip of the beer I’ve opened. Something tells me it’s going to be a long night.

“The best part about being drunk?” She chuckles sleepily. “I don’t have to care about what anyone thinks of me.”

I nod, understanding and not understanding at the same time. I lean over, press a kiss to the top of her head, and murmur against its crown. “You never have to worry about that with me. I don’t judge you. I understand you more than you might think.”

“No one’s ever said that to me before,” she whispers and then for the slightest moment, as I breathe in the scent of her shampoo and the even cadence of her breathing, I think she’s fallen asleep. “I’m so tired, Ollie.”

“I know you are.” It takes no effort to gather her in my arms and carry her into my bedroom. But it’s the way she rests her head on my shoulder, how her lips find the underside of my neck, and my name in the softest of sighs that makes putting her down on the edge of my bed almost impossible.

Her lips find mine. Our kiss as reflexive as my next breath. It’s what I’ve craved. What I’ve been desperate for.

But not like this.

And as much as it pains me to end it . . . to pull her hands off my neck and set them in her own lap—to adjust my hard-on so that it doesn’t hurt as much as it already does—I do them all and then take the hardest step back I’ve ever had to take in my life.

My breath is pained, ragged, as I stare at her. At what I want. And deny myself once more out of respect for her.

“Rossi,” she murmurs, eyes trying to flutter open to meet mine.

“Sit here for a sec.” I offer a strained smile as the taste of her kiss continues to consume and wreck me.

“No.” She reaches out and grabs my arm. “Don’t leave me. Everyone always leaves me alone.”

I stand there in my room, our fingers linked, those eyes of hers drowsy but more sincere than I’ve ever seen them before, and with words I can completely understand.

“I’m not leaving. I’m just getting you a shirt to sleep in.”