Rocco looks at me with a look of ponderance. If there is one pet peeve of mine, it’s ordering for me when you don’t know me. I appreciate his gesture, but we’ve known each other for a week. At this juncture, he doesn’t know that orange juice gives me heartburn.
His piercing gaze makes me feel intimidated.
“What?” I ask bluntly, trying to dissolve the unnerving feeling.
From the corner of my eye, I see the flight attendant leaving the refreshments for us. She doesn’t even dare to look up at us and she quickly hurries away.
A provocative smirk curls up the corner of Rocco’s lips and he grabs my chin with his fingers before brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. “I like the fire in you,bella,” he growls, his tone low while he leans in closer, putting his other hand on my thigh. His hand slowly roams higher and his touch burns even through the thick fabric of my jeans. “You seem tense, love. I can take care of that. Release the tension.” Rocco’s husky voice rasps in my ear before he grazes my earlobe with his teeth. “Relax,” he whispers, undoing the button of my pants while teasing the sensitive skin of my neck with his wet, warm tongue.
“Rocco,” I object. “Someone may come in.”
He murmurs against my neck, licking all the way up to my ear before he growls, “No one will disturb us until further notice.” He slides his hands underneath the lacy fabric of my panties, rubbing my most sensitive spot with his fingertips.
“But what if…” I put my hand on his, peeking at him, and he slowly pulls back, locking his gaze with mine.
“What is it, doll? You weren’t too concerned about someone catching us when I fingered you against my car the other night.”Excuse me?
Rocco narrows his eyes, looking at me with his dangerous brown eyes in a way that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
I let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m a little tired.”Lie.The truth is … I can’t get rid of Damien’s images flashing in my mind or his words ringing in my ears.“I still love you, Firefly. I will always love you.”Fucking hypocrite. For months I was trying to glue my shattered pieces back together after our breakup, and just when I thought I could finally forget about him, he had the audacity to say something like this? I don’t want to let him into my head again, but it has happened. I have no control over it. My heart still skips a beat whenever I see those two little dimples forming on his cheeks when he smiles. I’m still intoxicated with the scent of his body. I still have feelings for him. As much as I don’t want it, I can't help it. I’m mad. I’m fucking furious because he’s ruining me all over again and I let him. I have a deliriously handsome man by my side, ready to please me in ways I can’t even dream of, and I push him away because of my ex, who, with no effort, is living rent free in my head. And my heart.
Rocco clears his throat, cleaning his hand with a tissue before drinking his mimosa, and I zip my fly. I tuck my hair behind my ear, fleetingly peeking at Rocco, who doesn’t seem too content. He looks pissed and it irritates me. I feel like a fucking escort now, which I am not. In other circumstances, I would give him a piece of my mind. But now I have decided to let it go. I turn to the window, leaning against the headrest as I stare into the clear blue sky. At another time, I would let him fuck me any way he wanted,but now everything has changed because I met Damien…I can't forget his beautiful eyes gleaming up at me, his minty breath melting with mine, and his touch lingering on my skin as he cornered me against that cold marble pillar.
I inhale deeply and breathe in the Sicilian air. Thebreeze causes me to shiver as I shrug my black leather jacket over my blouse.
“Mr. Bianchi.” A man in a uniform holds up his hand in front of Rocco. “I need you to make a stop through customs.”
“I’ve never had to go through customs here. Why now?”
“You have an American on board and we will need to speak with her briefly.” The man signals me to follow him as Rocco answers a phone call. Something he did almost the entire flight.
“Sit here, ma’am.” I’m in a room surrounded by mirrors, which is causing my anxiety to kick in.
“She’s in there,” says the man with the uniform. Nobody walks in for a few seconds until I see a man dressed all in black with salt and pepper hair slicked back with what I’m assuming is way too much hair oil.
Because I make inappropriate jokes when I get nervous, I decide to open my big mouth. “Oh no! It’s the Grim Reaper … ahhh.” I try to play it off with a giggle but fail miserably when he puts a sack over my head and cuffs me.
“Wh-what?” I’m panicked. This is not normal for customs by any means. “What are you doing? Help me!” I scream, hoping Rocco can hear me.
“Your little boyfriend’s on the phone in his limo. He won’t be able to hear your screams. So I suggest you calm down to save your air,” a gross gravelly voice says snidely.
You know how people say your whole life flashes before your eyes when you’re in a life or death situation? I can officially attest to it being false. Damien’s face floods my mind. My peace. My safe place.I’m as good as dead in a foreign land and he’ll never know I still love him.
DAMIEN
The sound of my alarm forces me awake for my morningrun. Yes, I took up running after I broke up with Ava. It was my only outlet after I quit smoking and I’m thankful for it every day. But this morning, I have a nagging feeling in my gut. Oliver’s dead. My mom is on an island.
I pull my phone out to call Ava. Something I promised I wouldn’t do, but I find myself following my old mantra, “Rules are meant to be broken.”
The line rings and a muffled voice comes over the line. “Hello?”
“Hello? Who’s this?”
“This is Rocco. Alarie, that you?”
Shit.I didn’t think this through. How am I supposed to explain how Ava has my number?
“You know what? Now’s not the time. Ava’s been taken.”
