The Italian

by T L Swan

  “I told you why I treated you the way I did.” He changes the gears again and I grip my seatbelt.

  “Will you slow down?”

  He stares at the road.

  “Why didn’t you call me all this time? If you wanted to see me, why didn’t you just call me?”

  “Because you wouldn’t have come! I told you that. Listen to me when I speak, woman.”

  I throw my hands up in the air. This is pointless. He’s an arrogant bastard.

  “Well, I’m not staying. I’m taking the job in New York. How dare you think you can just wave your magic dick around and I’ll be putty in your hands?”

  His glances at me. “I didn’t see you too angry last night when you were riding my magic dick,” he sneers. “In fact, you moaned on it all fucking night.”

  “See?” I shake my head around in disgust. “It’s this arrogant fucking asshole attitude that turns me off you.”

  He punches the steering wheel hard, and I jump. “You haven’t seen a fucking asshole yet, Olivia.” The veins are prominent in his neck. “Don’t fucking push me!” he growls.

  “Stop it!” I scream. “You’re being crazy.”

  “You make me fucking crazy,” he yells.

  “Let me out of the car. This was a big mistake. I wish I never laid eyes on you.”

  He glares over at me. “Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”

  He pulls into a parking space at my hotel. I get out and slam the door hard. He tears off into the distance. I watch the car disappear to the sound of his tires screeching, and then I look up to see everyone has stopped and is staring after him.

  Hmm, that went well.

  I drop my head and continue my walk of shame.

  Great.

  The thing about bastards is that they get under your skin. They’re like a poisonous rash.

  Insidious, festering, and begging for attention.

  I don’t feel like I have that I won the fight feeling.

  It’s Monday afternoon, and I haven’t heard from him.

  I mean, I don’t want to. It’s not like I’m checking my phone every ten minutes or anything. I pick my phone up and check it again.

  No missed calls. I exhale heavily.

  Asshole.

  I spent yesterday afternoon with Natalie analyzing this situation over copious amounts of alcohol and tapas in a bar.

  She thinks I’m being a drama queen—that his father had died, and he wasn’t thinking straight back then. She thinks him bringing me here is romantic.

  She thinks this is a second chance love story waiting to happen.

  I think he’s a control freak.

  Part of me wishes I handled yesterday differently—that I just sat and talked to him.

  Why was I so angry? I acted like a crazy person.

  And why was he so fucking angry? He acted like no woman had ever asked to leave before.

  Probably haven’t.

  I glance at the clock and see it’s 5:00 p.m. I’ve achieved nothing today. Giorgio isn’t even here because he’s in New York working for the week. I can’t wait to tell him about my weekend from Hell.

  This is one fucked-up situation.

  I close down my computer, pack up my desk, and make my way downstairs.

  I’m supposed to be going to the gym but a bar of chocolate seems much more enticing.

  I walk out of the building and glance up to see a black Ferrari parked across the street. Rico is standing beside it, his behind resting on the door. His eyes are locked on me.

  My heart skips a beat at the sight of him. Just go and speak to him. Be an adult.

  I cross the road and approach the car. “Hi.”

  “Hello.”

  The wind blows my hair around, and I tuck it behind my ears. “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  We stare at each other. “Why?”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “No, you don’t, Rici, you want to scream at me.”

  “You can’t blame me for being angry. After the night we spent together, I wake up to that.”

  I cross my arms in front of me. “I’m know, I’m sorry.” I sigh, disappointed in myself. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  His eyes hold mine. “Can we get a drink?”

  “I guess.” I gesture up the street, and he falls inline beside me. The two of us walk in silence until we get to a bar and restaurant.

  We take a seat and the waiter comes over. “What would you like to drink?’

  Rico gestures for me to order first.

  “I’ll just have a mineral water, please?”

  He frowns subtly. “I’ll have a blue label scotch, please.”

  “Sure.” The waiter leaves us alone.

  Rico’s eyes hold mine as he waits for me to speak… so I don’t.

  “Well.” He opens his hands to me. “Start talking.”

  I shrug.

  “You obviously have things to say. Say them.”

  This is it; the moment I know I have to be completely honest or I have to cut my losses and walk away. I can’t keep harboring this resentment toward him.

  “You really hurt me when you left me in jail. It’s not something I can forget so easily. And it wasn’t in a lover kind of hurt, it was a humanity hurt kind.”

  He drops his head, taking a moment to himself.

  “I thought we were friends,” I whisper.

  “Bella, I couldn’t deal with you and the drug thing back then. My whole world had collapsed. I was battling many demons—too many to name.”

  Empathy wins and I put my hand on top of his on the table. “Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Why didn’t you call me when you had calmed down?”

  “I was ashamed of the way I treated you.” He looks back up, and his eyes search mine. “For that, I’m truly sorry. I can’t turn back time. If I could, I would.”

  “But you didn’t even call me when I got here. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I was letting you settle in for a week, and then I was going to accidently bump into you.” I frown. “But then I saw you on that date and I went…” His voice trails off. “Things haven’t gone to plan.”

  We sit in silence for a moment, staring at each other. “You know you’re a really bad driver when you’re angry,” I tell him.

  He smiles and turns his hand over to take mine. “Then stop making me angry.”

  I smirk, and that buzz between us is there again.

  “How does this go, Enrico? What is this between us?”

  “Rici. You call me Rici.”

  I look down as I try to articulate what I want to say. So clear in my head, so clunky in real life.

  “You said we had more story between us,” he says.

  “I did.”

  “Can you honestly say that you feel like you turned the last page? Because I can’t.”

  “No,” I say. I watch as the twinkle returns to his eyes, and I exhale heavily. “I’ll make a deal with you. You pick me up and take me on a date tomorrow night, and I’ll wipe the slate clean.”

  “How about we just talk about it tonight?”

  “And stop doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Hypnotizing me with your sexiness.”

  He smiles brightly at me. “No promises.”

  I stand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  His face falls. “You’re leaving already? Your drink hasn’t even arrived.”

  “Yes. I’m leaving.”

  He opens his mouth to object, and then shuts it, silencing himself. “See you tomorrow night.”

  I kiss him on the cheek. “Tomorrow.”

  Enrico

  I would have preferred to stay in with her tonight but I need to make an effort, so here I am. I knock on the door and Olivia opens it in a rush.

  My breath catches at the sight of her. She’s wearing a red strapless dress. Her long blonde hair is up,
and I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.

  “Bella,” I whisper as I look her up and down. “So beautiful.”

  She performs a twirl for me. “You like?”

  I take her in my arms as my cock hardens. “I love.”

  I can’t stop myself; I lean in and kiss her softly. Not kissing her feels unnatural. It’s the weirdest thing. I want to talk her out of going out, but I won’t because I know she wants this. “Let’s go.”

  She grabs her purse and shawl, and I take her hand and lead her downstairs. My car is waiting in the parking lot, and I glance over to see the four cars parked with my bodyguards inside them.

  My every instinct is to drop her hand, but I know I’m already skating on thin ice. I grit my teeth and let her hold my hand. Just this once.

  “What’s this car?” she asks as she takes in the black Audi.

  “This is my sensible car.” I wink as I open the door for her.

  “Are you going to be sensible tonight, Mr. Ferrara?” she teases.

  “Yes.” I smirk as I slam the door shut. I go around and get into the driver’s seat. “I’m only going to make love to you once in the missionary position instead of fucking you six times on your knees.”

  “That’s presumptuous.” She smirks as we pull out into the traffic.

  I take her hand and put it on my thigh. I want her hands on me when she sits next to me… wherever she is. I have to be touching her. It’s an urge I cannot control.

  “Where are we going?” she asks.

  “To my favorite restaurant.”

  “Tell me they have pasta.”

  I pick up her hand and kiss her fingertips. Her joy is contagious. “They have the best pasta in all of Italy.”

  “It’s a wonder we got in on a Friday night then.”

  I smile. She’s oblivious to the pull that I have. “Yes, very lucky,” I reply as I keep my eyes on the road. I glance in the rearview mirror at the security cars trailing us. There’s trouble brewing at work with threats coming in left right and center now. Security around me has never been so high. It’s not exactly the right time to start a torrid affair of the heart.

  I pull into the parking lot, open her door, and we walk into the restaurant.

  “Mr. Ferrara.” Mario smiles. “Come in, come in, sir.”

  We weave through the tables until we get to my favorite spot. He pulls out Olivia’s chair and she takes a seat. He hands us our menus.

  “We will have a Margarita and a Amaro please,” I ask.

  “Of course, sir. I’ll leave you alone and come and take your food order soon.”

  Olivia smiles as she looks around at the glamorous space. “Well, this is special.”

  “Like you.” I kiss her hand. “What are you eating, my love?”

  Her eyes linger on my face.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I like it when you call me your love.”

  You are.

  Stop it.

  I open the menu to distract her. “The linguini is spectacular.”

  “Hmm, all my cardio training is going down the drain tonight. Carbohydrate coma, here I come.”

  “Your drinks.” Mario puts our drinks on the table. “I will give you some more time.”

  Olivia holds up her margarita glass, and I clink it with mine. I smile and go back to reading the menu.

  “I’ve had a good day, you know?” Olivia says.

  “Why is that?”

  “I went to the gym and found an apartment.”

  I look up. “You found an apartment?”

  “Yes, it’s lovely, and not far from my work and my gym.”

  I keep reading my menu and exhale as I try to keep my cool. “I don’t know where I want you to live yet.”

  She looks up, surprised by my statement. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I don’t know where I want you to live yet. I want tight security around you. I will organize something for you. I’ll look into what properties of mine are vacant first thing in the morning.”

  “This is our first date, what are you talking about?” She rearranges her napkin on her lap. “I don’t want to live in one of your apartments, I’m not.”

  I glare at her across the table. “Why are you so difficult?”

  “Why are you so domineering?”

  “It’s a safety issue, Olivia.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You are overdramatic, Mr. Ferrara.”

  I sip my drink as I try to reign in my temper.

  She shakes her head as if shaking off her annoyance. “Anyway,” she continues. “Let’s talk about you, for once. We always talk about me. You know everything about me, and I know nothing about you.”

  I feel my chest tighten and I sip my drink. “I think I’m having the linguini,” I say to change the subject. “What are you having?”

  “Tell me about your work,” she asks.

  “What do you want to know?”

  She frowns as she thinks for a moment. “After the accident, you took over the family businesses, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “All of them?”

  “I became the CEO of the company, so yes. But there are many staff under me that had worked alongside my father and grandfather, and they continue to do what they did before.”

  “It’s a lot of responsibility.”

  “It is.”

  She puts her hand under her chin and studies me. “It must be terrifying. The thought that you could fuck everything up.”

  I stare at her for a moment. “You’re the first person who has ever said that to me.”

  “Well, is it?”

  “More than you know.”

  Her eyes hold mine, and she waits for me to go on.

  “The pressure of expectation is suffocating. Some days are better than others. It is what it is.”

  “We could always run away,” she offers with a goofy smile.

  I laugh out loud. “Don’t tempt me. The prospect of running away with you and being normal would be a dream come true.”

  Her face falls. “Do you feel trapped in your life?”

  “Yes,” I answer without hesitation.

  “Oh.” She thinks about it for a moment. “You don’t have to do this you know?”

  “Yes. I do. My life is already mapped out for me.”

  She looks around the restaurant and frowns. “I thought you said this was the best restaurant in Milan.”

  “It is.”

  “Why are we the only ones here?”

  I smile as I rest my face in my hand. I booked the whole restaurant so I could have her to myself. “Just lucky, I guess.”

  I stand in the corridor as I fumble with the key to Olivia’s room. It’s late now, and we’ve had too many drinks. I had to leave my car at the restaurant. We caught a cab home. She’s standing behind me running her hands up and down my body. She’s hot for it. She’s always hot for it.

  She unzips my pants from behind, and I bump her with my ass.

  “Let me open the door, woman.”

  She laughs and begins to pull my pants down.

  “Stop it,” I whisper as I struggle with the lock.

  She slides her hand down my briefs and grabs my hard cock. I struggle with the key some more. “Open, fucker.” I give it a swift kick.

  She laughs and strokes me hard, and the door clicks open. I stumble in and before I can even close the door behind us, she’s on her knees in front of me.

  “Time for dessert,” she whispers darkly as she licks her lips.

  She takes my cock into her mouth and my breath catches at the sight of her.

  She slides my pants and briefs right down, and I kick them to the side along with my shoes. I take my shirt off over my head while she takes me deep down her throat.

  My legs nearly give way beneath me. I gently sweep the blonde hair back from her forehead. Her eyes are closed, and she hums at the taste of me.

  Fuck, she’s hot.

  Some women give head to pleas
e men. Olivia gives head to please herself. She loves it.

  I love it more.

  I can honestly say that watching her suck my cock is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. She opens her throat and really takes me deep as she cups my balls in her hand. Her other hand roams up and down my thigh.

  My stomach tightens, and a gush of pre-ejaculate makes her eyes close.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  She begins to fist me hard, and I grab her head in my hands as my primal instincts take over and I begin to ride her mouth—desperate for the release that only she can give me.

  I need her. Fuck, I need her. I need to be so deep inside of her that she can’t breathe.

  I drag her to her feet and take her dress and underwear off. I sit back on the bed.

  “Condom,” she pants.

  “Are you on the pill?”

  She frowns. “Yes, but…”

  “I’ve never had sex without a condom on before. You’re safe.”

  She pushes me on the chest, losing the last of her control. I hold the base of my cock up and slide it through her swollen, wet flesh. She gently rocks back and forth.

  “Fuck me,” I whisper up at her.

  She slides down onto my cock, and her mouth falls into the perfect O shape.

  Oh God, she is perfect.

  The feeling of her, flesh-to-flesh, without anything between us, is too much.

  I need more. I need to fill her everywhere. I reach around and push my finger into her back entrance, and she quivers. Our eyes lock.

  My smile darkens. “You like that, my beautiful girl?”

  “Hmm,” she moans with her eyes closed. “Fuck, yes.”

  I grab her hip bone and slam her down hard, knocking the air from her lungs. She clings to me.

  “Knees up,” I order.

  She does as she is told, and I feel her beautiful cunt contract so hard around my cock that waves of pleasure run though both of us.

  “I’m going to fuck you all night, baby,” I promise her.

  “God, yes!” she screams. “Do it. Give it to me harder.”

  I wake to the feeling of the bed dipping beside me. I snap my eyes open and reach out.

  “Just going to the bathroom, baby,” she whispers.