by Mandy Rosko
“Oh, my God, Arturo has amazing taste,” she said, her mouthwatering as he poured the milk.
Jeffery smiled. “That he does.”
“Do you guys ever get a day off? You were here last night.”
She would’ve thought the staff would be rotated from night to morning.
“Mr. Calendri takes very good care of us, and in return, we care for him.”
“Okay.” She didn’t really understand that, but then the peanut butter and chocolate puffs were in front of her face, and she couldn’t bring herself to care.
She dug in. This was Isla and Jane’s favorite cereal, but they hardly ever bought it because of the calories and the fact that each box tended to last less than a day when it was in the house. Between the two of them, they could eat an entire box each.
It was a good thing Jeffery was in charge of this box. He’d given her the cereal and then wheeled it away. He returned a short while later with the coffee pot, asking if she wanted a refill, but she declined that.
She was too fixated on her food. She was something of a food girl, and now that Arturo wasn’t around to watch her, she could eat as quickly as she wanted, which meant she was out of awesome cereal way too fast, leaving her drinking the milk like she’d always done.
Isla placed her dishes off to the side and pulled out her kits. She opened them up, revealing her chains, strings, beads, and other assorted materials she used to make her jewelry.
Jeffery returned after another minute to take the dishes away, placing a glass of water in front of her without her needing to ask him for it. He was gone again, and Isla pulled out her tweezers.
Just because Baciami Boutique was currently not open for business, didn’t mean she had to sit around and do nothing. The doors could open again in just one month after she was done here, and she was going to need her new line of jewelry up and ready to go for the buyers who knew her work and liked to purchase extra pieces.
She threaded pins and stoppers through certain beads while using the precious stones she’d purchased as colorful placeholders in other areas.
Sometimes one necklace could take twenty minutes, and other times, if she got creative and wanted to do a little wire wrapping, it could take much longer.
Entirely focused on her piece, the world around her faded away. There was just her hands, the chains, the metal, and the stones. She couldn’t even see the person standing right beside her.
Arturo’s voice sounded low and quite, and close enough to her ear that the warmth of his breath ghosted over the shell and down the back of her neck, sending shivers through her body.
“That’s very impressive.”
19
She spun around, a few of her beads and stones went rolling across the table and landed on the floor, bouncing and shattering, some rolled into the corner.
Isla forgot all about being shocked over Arturo’s sudden appearance.
“Shit!”
She placed her work carefully on the mat she worked on so nothing else would roll away, and then rushed over to pick up the beads and stones before they were lost forever in some hidden nook or cranny of the house.
It looked like only two of them had smashed, but a few others had cracked. Whatever, she could still use them and it would look more like a stylistic choice.
“I didn’t see you there.” She glanced over her shoulder as she scooped up the other colored stones.
To her shock, Arturo bent down and picked up a couple as well. “Caught you when you were working,” he said, standing straight and looking at her necklace, at all the glittering pieces she’d been assembling, almost like a puzzle. “I hope I didn’t ruin it. It looks good.”
“Thanks.” She was not too happy to have dropped so many glass pieces and stones. She corrected herself quickly, however.
The way to win him over, at least as a friend, wasn’t by being pissy with him. “Uh, how long have you been standing there?”
“A few minutes.” He placed the stones and glass beads he’d grabbed onto the mat where they wouldn’t roll away. “You did this for your grandfather’s boutique.”
“You know I did.” She looked around quickly and found nothing else. There were probably some more beads missing, but she got to her feet and returned what she’d found to the mat.
Because of how clean the floors were, there were no stray hairs or bits of dust on the glass. The broken pieces she’d have to either throw away, or find some way of using them that would look unique and interesting enough to attract a buyer.
“I’ll have you reimbursed for the damages,” he offered as he reached forward to take the glass. “I’ll call someone to dispose of these.”
“No.”
She grabbed onto Arturo’s hand without thinking. Both of her small hands wrapped around his much larger one.
It was warm and calloused in some places. Her heart beat so damned fast that her face heated like she was in front of a stove. The heat was unbearable.
The sound of her own heart was the only sound in her ears, and for whatever reason, her grip on his hand tightened, instead of letting go.
Let go. Let go!
She finally did, but the burning sizzle that began in her palms, heating her all the way up her arms and to her neck and face, remained.
Like she'd just drank a full bottle of hot sauce and was now tingling all over because of it.
Arturo was giving her a strange look.
"Sorry, that was an accident," she said. "You don't have to have them thrown out. I don't know what I'll use them for, but I can probably find a way."
"You use broken pieces for jewelry?"
Isla picked up one of the cracked pieces. “Everyone has different tastes. Some people like that look. To them it might look like cracked ice." She thought about that for a moment. "And a lot of these beads are sky or pale blue, so I could probably make something that looks like ice for when Christmas rolls around."
She was already planning what that piece would look like in her head, excited now that the idea was there. This was great. This was absolutely the best.
"You're smiling," he murmured, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile she couldn't really decipher. "I take it this is a good thing."
"I just got an idea, so it's a very good thing."
He shook his head, still with that quirk in his lips. "I still can't believe women enjoy broken jewelry."
"It's not broken if it has a purpose. Not all girls like diamonds and rubies. Sometimes something a little more personal looking does just as well."
She was very aware of the way Arturo's eyes travelled up and down—not her entire body, but from her waist area to her throat and then her ears.
He was looking at the rings she wore—of which she only had two—her bracelet, the necklace around her neck, and her earrings.
She pointed to her ring. "This is an old ladies watch. It's kind of steampunk, but these are real rubies inside."
"I know."
Of course, he would know. The watch around his wrist probably had diamonds inside of it.
"Did you make all of these?" he asked.
"Yes, but they don't all have broken pieces, and some of the pieces I made with polymer clay."
She pointed to the little roses on her earrings, necklace, and bracelet. "See?"
"I do," he said, though he was now frowning a little. "Martina said you wanted to see me?"
Isla's eyes widened. "Oh, she said that?"
"Do you not want to see me?"
Shit. "I do, but I heard you were busy with business. I didn't think I'd see you here for a few more hours."
Arturo shrugged. "I needed a break, and there's some things we need to discuss anyway."
"My grandfather's boutique?"
Arturo shook his head. "No. I'll be taking you out. We will be seen together, and there will likely be photographs."
"Oh, is that it?" she asked, shrugging. "Sure. I can do that."
He nodded. "Good, Martina is deliveri
ng something for you to wear tonight."
"I've got some pretty nice things."
"This will be different," he said sharply. "I want you in this dress."
That sent off her spidey-senses like crazy. Her father had always been a Spider-Man fan. "That makes me think it's something I won't want to wear."
He looked at her, his gaze never wavering for several long seconds. She felt the need to shrink in on herself, to hide away from that calculating stare. She didn't move.
Not even when Arturo stepped forward.
"You will wear what is provided for you. Martina will help you dress if you need her to."
He didn't stop until they were toe to toe with each other. She should've felt intimidated, considering how he was standing so close to her, but all she felt was more of that buzzing heat that just couldn't seem to find the right way to escape.
Isla's throat worked hard in a desperate swallow. Great. Now her throat ached.
"What if I don't want to wear it?" she asked. "You could be making me wear something completely see through, without my underwear. Your contract says you can't publicly humiliate me."
He slid his hand along her shoulder. The short, thin sleeves of the blouse she wore made it easy for her to feel him all over, even when he wasn't touching her skin to skin.
"Then you know the dress will not be something that will embarrass you."
"That's all you're going to tell me."
"That's all you need to know."
Great. Why did she have to be so hot and bothered for a man who had to speak to her like this? This alpha thing was stupidly hot, and she wished she didn't love it so damned much.
But her entire body was on fire, and the nerves in her arms and legs twitched, desperate to move, to act, to do something to get rid of all of this excess energy she had building inside of her.
Unfortunately, it seemed that the only way to do that was with Arturo.
Arturo’s voice was low, a sexy rumble that made her ache. "What would you do if I wanted to kiss you?"
Isla looked up at him. She hadn't even realized she'd lowered her gaze to his chest. "I… I guess I'd let you. I don't have much of a choice, right?"
Arturo's dark eyes flashed. "You have every choice. You can walk away at any time."
She shook her head. "I know, sorry. That's not what I meant. I just meant… fuck."
She didn't know how she meant it, but Isla was a big girl, and she knew that, despite all the control he was lording over her, she had just as much control as he did.
She had the control to put a stop to all of this, and she was choosing not to.
"You should say it properly, then." His hands squeezed her arms just a little. "Answer my question properly if you know the correct answer."
That should've also been irritating, but she didn't want to pull back or stop. More of that alpha talk and those demands—why had she never before realized there was something inside of her that craved this?
"I would let you kiss me," she confessed.
"And?" he prompted.
Isla's tongue darted out to wet her lips. "And I would kiss you back."
Arturo smiled. It was more like a happy smirk, but it was something.
"And if I told you I wanted to fuck you on this table, right where any of my staff could walk in and see us at any time, what would you say then?"
Her mouth opened in a soft gasp. His breath and naughty words ghosted over his skin in what could have been a physical caress.
As it was, his hand was barely stroking her shoulder and arm. The warmth of his touch remained. It sizzled through the nerves of her body whenever his hand so much as moved an inch. The effect was a hundred fold with those softly spoken words whispered in broad daylight at the table where Martina had pulled out Isla’s chair and Jeffery had served her an unhealthy breakfast of peanut butter and chocolate.
Her mouth went desert sand dry. She tried to swallow but couldn’t.
Arturo was as cool as a cat. She didn’t have anything cleverer than that to describe it; it was just how he looked.
“You’re a very beautiful woman, Isla. Why would you be shocked that I want to have sex with you? Or is it that I want to fuck you at all? Might I remind you that we already did that last night?”
She clenched her teeth and fists. “I didn’t forget.”
She took a breath, not because she was angry and needed to calm herself, but because she was getting excited. Turned on. Hot, bothered, and just downright… well, horny. She had so much excess energy inside of her and she needed somewhere to put it.
“Then why did your face turn so red when I asked if you want me to fuck you on that table?”
He was playing with her. He was testing her limits to see if she would get offended and storm out, regardless of the contract and what leaving would mean.
And wouldn’t it be just great if Isla got so angry that she turned around and walked right out of here after she’d already spent the night with Arturo inside of her. She would lose everything, and he would’ve at least been laid for his trouble.
She squared her shoulders and stared him right in the eyes. “I want you to fuck me on the table. And make sure to do it hard this time, not that easy stuff you gave me last night.”
Arturo’s eyes flashed brightly right before he reached out and grabbed her.
20
He pushed her back until she was forced right up against the table they'd been talking about. It pressed into the small of her back. She was practically bent over it the wrong way as Arturo leaned in and kissed her.
The kiss was as electrifying as it had been last night. Her body hadn't made some sort of error when she'd felt those things the night before.
However, it was easy for her to get pulled back into the real world when she felt some of her beads rattle.
With the heady force of their bodies over the table, regardless of the mat she'd used, some of her things were starting to roll away again.
The need to protect her supplies overcame her lust for a few precious seconds as Isla pressed her hands against Arturo's chest, pushing him away.
"Wait."
His voice was guttural. "No waiting."
"My stuff's going to fall off the table."
She pushed a little harder, and this time he relented. He let her get up so she could collect her beads and tools. She packed up everything so quickly that it wasn't exactly as neat and orderly as she tended to prefer it.
When her cases and beads were on one of the chairs where they wouldn't get in the way or stepped on, she looked at Arturo. His chest heaved and the suit he wore was disheveled. "I don't think we want to be having sex on top of a pair of clippers."
He didn't answer. He grabbed her again, and for the second time, Isla found herself pushed down onto the table.
It was a wonder the thing was even managing to hold her weight. Not just her weight, but her weight combined with the added pressure Arturo was providing by pressing her down onto the cherry wood.
Her feet slipped out of the shoes she'd been wearing. Her toes weren't even touching the floor, so she felt there was no other choice but to lift her knees and curl them around Arturo's waist.
It brought a distinct reminder of what they'd done last night, especially when she felt the bulge of his heavy cock pressing against her panties.
His hand moved to her breast, and the heat of his mouth fell away from her lips as the man pressed kisses to her throat and then her chest as he ripped open her blouse.
Buttons flew everywhere.
"Hey!"
Arturo unclasped her bra, and it popped apart, revealing her breasts. His warm, wet mouth covered one of her nipples, and the muscles in her thighs clenched as that pleasure rocketed from her breast all the way down to her sex.
"Oh, God."
He wasn't just using his teeth to gently abuse her tiny nipple. His tongue continued to flick the pink nub, teasing her, making her body clench around him, making her hands clutch at him tigh
ter, as if she needed him in order to survive.
She felt like she did.
"You ask Martina to come and get me, and then you wear this," he said, his free hand sliding up Isla's stockinged thigh, higher and higher, lifting her skirt as he went. With the exception of her wet, pink lace panties with the tiny purple bow in the middle, she was completely and utterly exposed to him.
She also didn't get it. "W-wear what?"
She'd wanted to dress to impress, sure, but she hadn't exactly meant to make him turn into a horny teenager.
Not that a horny teenaged Arturo was a problem if this was how he was going to behave.
"This!" he said, his voice practically scraping across the edges of his throat as he spoke. That was how rough, how animalistic, he sounded, and it made Isla's sex swell even more, made her pussy throb with the need to be filled.
She wanted to be dominated by this man.
Arturo's hands continued to move, to slide over and under and across Isla's clothes and skin, and then his fingers slid beneath her panties, fingers finding dark pubic hair and parting the lips of her sex.
His fingers didn't enter her, not in the way she wanted them to. They barely tipped inside as he stroked back and forth, back and forth, adding pressure on the back motion, but not the forward motion. It drove her fucking wild.
“You wear this skirt that shows off your legs, which practically scream at me to spread them apart and fuck you when you walk around in those heels."
"Like a girl in heels, do you?" Her brain was too muddled with pleasure to think of much more than that to say.
He stroked her again and again as Isla cried out softly.
"I like how they make your calves look firmer, longer, and tighter. Long enough to wrap around my waist while I bury my cock inside of your wet cunt."
Isla moaned.
"Do you like when I say that word? That I want you to feel me inside your cunt so deep and hard that you only ever think about me, even after you leave here and take other lovers."
"E-ego, much?" Isla asked. She couldn't help herself.
Arturo didn't get offended. He chuckled. She'd heard that sound before, but only now when they were so close, when their hands were all over each other, did it seem like dark and foreboding.