His head stays tilted to the side, his eyes sliding down my entire body, then back up. It isn’t sexual, but it does send a shiver of concern throughout my entire spine.
“Elenora Lewis?” he asks. I lick my dry lips and nod, unsure of how he knows my name exactly. “Figures you’re blonde.” He chuckles.
“Can I help you?” I breathe.
He shakes his head once, taking a step back. Those vibrant green eyes find mine again and his lips curve up into a slight smile.
“One day you’ll know me well, Lenora. Not many people in this world that you can trust, believe me. But, just know, you can trust me.”
Without another word, he turns and walks away. He stops next to a fancy car and looks back at me.
“You shouldn’t lock up alone, Lenora.”
Then he jogs to the driver’s side of his car, yanks the door open, slips inside and takes off down the busy Manhattan street with a roar. Meanwhile, I’m completely frozen to my spot, staring in the direction of his taillights, even after they’ve disappeared from view.
Deciding that’s enough fucking creepy shit for the night, I hurry and finish locking up before I hail a cab and head home. My phone doesn’t ring the entire time and there is no hiding my disappointment.
Chloe catches that obvious disappointment immediately. She’s at the kitchen table again, this time, sucking on the straw of a juice smoothie, dressed in her workout clothes.
“No call?” she asks, though her gaze is knowing.
“No,” I admit, my voice soft and hurt.
Fuck.
I’m so hurt by the fact that he hasn’t even attempted to contact me.
“Text him first,” she offers.
Making my way over to the sofa, I sink down and kick my high heels off. “Isn’t that desperate?”
“You do know that it’s two-thousand-nineteen, right? Women can vote, they can drive, hell, we can even text a man first,” she gasps dramatically.
Turning my head, I snort. “You’re a bitch, you know that?”
Chloe is grinning at me, her eyes dancing. “I know. Text him,” she urges as she stands and makes her way over to me.
I tug my phone out of my bag and look over to my roommate. She’s all bronzed glowing skin, almond-shaped dark brown eyes, and dark wild curly hair. She is the opposite of me in every way.
She’s slimmer in the waist, her small booty is perfectly round and sculpted. Meanwhile, I’m curves and thighs, boobs, booty, and belly all rolled into one body. I shake my head, looking at my blank, blank, blank phone.
“I can’t,” I sigh.
She takes the phone from me. “You can, but I’ll do it for you.”
“No,” I cry, reaching for it, but she holds it out of my grasp. She’s also taller than me, by almost an entire foot.
“Stop. I won’t be embarrassing, but you need to know where you stand. He swore it wasn’t a booty call, right?” she asks, arching a brow.
Nodding, I bite my bottom lip. “He did. He acted offended that that’s what I thought it was.”
“Good,” she mumbles as she taps her fingers against my phone. She holds the phone out to me when she’s finished and I stare at it, in her hand, waiting for it to bite me. “I was nice,” she promises.
Eventually, I reach for the phone and grasp it, then I look down to see what she’s typed.
HOPING TO SEE YOU SOON. HAD FUN LAST NIGHT.
I let out a sigh. “See,” she croons.
“Yeah, now if he’ll only answer,” I mutter.
“Well, you’re not going to wait around to find out,” she quips as she stands to her feet. Tilting my head back, I look up into her eyes. “I’m not?”
A slow smile appears on her lips. “No, you are not. Get dressed, we’re going to a movie.”
She turns around and without a word, I watch her walk into her bedroom. I bite my bottom lip as I stare at the delivered message. I wait, and watch, for far too long hoping that it will read and he’ll respond. Neither happens.
Standing from the sofa, I decide to go and get dressed for a movie with my friend. I need to push Arlo out of my head. Maybe he’s just one of those guys that doesn’t text much, or maybe he’s been busy, or maybe I’m just coming up with any excuse to make myself feel better?
Chloe and I head out to the movie. I haven’t had dinner so I order a large popcorn, a Coke freeze and a box of Milk Duds. I shouldn’t eat this much crap, but I’m hungry and a little depressed.
“If I eat like that, I’ll blow up like a goddamn balloon,” Chloe announces after we’ve settled in our seats.
“I will, too,” I admit.
“Lenora,” she says, her voice a warning tone.
Shaking my head, I pinch my eyes closed. “I’ve never been with someone that I don’t know very well. I don’t know what to expect. Every guy that I’ve slept with, the few of them, we were already in a committed relationship, they were my boyfriends. I knew what to expect,” I explain.
Chloe wraps her arm around my shoulder and tugs me against her side. “I forget. You’re twenty-four, but you never had those real ho years,” she sighs.
I let out a laugh, then look over to her. “Ho years?”
She nods. “Yeah, those years where you just do what you want, the way you want, to whoever you want. I’m still in the middle of mine and I have zero desire to settle down. You aren’t like me, though, you want to settle down, don’t you?”
I nod. “Desperately,” I admit.
She hums. “I think that this may be your one and only ho experience. I’m glad he was good and while you were with him, I’m glad that he was good to you. But honey, you need a man more your speed. That one is trouble, he’s dangerous, and he’s going to end up hurting you in a way where I don’t think you’ll ever recover.”
“How do you know that?”
She hums. “Let’s just say that I know the type.”
The theater darkens and the first trailer begins. Our conversation silences and Chloe’s arm falls from my shoulders. We watch the movie, neither of us saying another word to one another. I don’t check my phone the entire length of the film and by the end, I feel better.
We head home, laughing about the night, about the funny parts of the movie. Until Chloe’s laughter dies as we approach our building’s entrance. I lift my gaze from my feet, and ice blue eyes meet my own.
Carlo is angry. His eyes glitter with the emotion.
“Well, I think I’ll head inside,” Chloe announces. Then she turns to me. “Unless you need me to stay?” she whispers.
I shake my head, my gaze never leaving his. “No, go ahead, I’ll be up soon.”
Chloe makes a humming sound but doesn’t say anything else. I watch as she breezes past Arlo. He doesn’t move, it’s as if he’s made of granite, frozen to the spot and his angry gaze is frozen right on me.
Chapter Six
ARLO
The anger inside of me simmers just below the surface. I don’t even have the right to be angry, and yet, here I am—seething. Fucking seething. Goddamn fucking seething. Not giving a fuck that I have zero right to be.
“Carlo,” she whispers.
Her voice is soft, trembling, frightened. I should feel guilty. I’ve spent the evening with my fiancée and my family. I’ve played the part that was needed, and in doing that, I ignored her.
I’m the one at fault here, yet apologizing isn’t something I’ll ever do, it’s not who I am. There are men who will ask forgiveness, there are men who will right their wrongs. Then there are men like me, men who take without concern. Men who unapologetically do as they desire. I desire Lenora.
“Where were you?” I ask, sounding as accusatory as I fucking feel.
It’s almost midnight, and she wasn’t home. She blinks, those green eyes wide and so fucking gorgeous. She’s in a state of wonderment, the same look crossed her face when my cock sank inside of her last night, every single time. It was the most beautiful look I’d ever seen, and even as angry
as I am, it still is.
“The movies. We went to a movie. Where were you?” she asks, crossing her arms beneath her chest, pushing those tits I love so much out for me.
My eyes flick down to the swells of her breasts and without being able to stand it a second longer, I close the distance between us and gather her in my arms.
“I was worried,” I admit.
She licks her lips, wetting them as she tips her head back and looks into my eyes. “I thought we were something, that last night was the beginning of something,” she breathes.
I hum, sliding my nose along her jaw, inhaling the scent of her hair.
“What’s this then?” I ask.
My hands travel from her waist to her hips, clenching her tightly and tugging her closer to me. Her arms fall from between us and I sigh when her fingers dive into the back of my hair.
She sighs, arching her back and I grunt as I feel her tits press against my chest, remembering exactly what they felt like against me when we were both naked. I need that again, I need to be inside of her, I need to forget my fucking day.
“I didn’t hear from you all day,” she breathes.
I don’t laugh like I want to. Merda. It’s hard to get a moment to myself between work and Wynter. The bitch called me at least ten times today alone. Maybe she’s trying to keep me busy for a reason, odds are she’s just fucking selfish.
“Had a busy day, tesoro. Shit day at work. Let’s go home,” I murmur.
“I am home,” she sighs.
I lift my head, looking behind me, then back at her. “Roommate? No thanks, Lenora. I want to be inside of you and make you scream. I’m not going to have your roommate there. Got a surprise for you anyway.” I grin.
“A surprise?” She frowns.
Without a word, I take a step back, wrapping my hand in hers and gently tug her behind me toward my car. Once we’re both settled inside, I guide the Aston Martin toward the new place.
My new apartment, purchased sight unseen, with cash, is not too far from Lenora’s current place. It’s a bit closer to Brooklyn, where I need to work and DUMBO, in Brooklyn, where I’ll be living with my cunt of a wife.
The East Village comes into view and I grin when I glance over at her. She has no fucking clue why we’re here, and I can’t wait to see the excitement on her face.
Pulling into the resident parking garage, I find my new spot and shift the car into park.
“Arlo, I think you need to live here to park down here. What’s going on?” she asks.
Her brows are furrowed in the middle and she’s never looked fucking cuter. Lifting my hand, I touch the center of her forehead and grin as I tug my keys out of my other pocket with my opposite hand.
“I’m a resident, you can be too, if you want.” I shrug.
One fuck and I’m practically asking her to move in with me. What in the absolute fuck is wrong with me? Pussy’s magical, that’s what it has to be.
Lenora’s eyes widen again, that same look of wonderment has my cock straining against my designer slacks.
“What?”
Shaking my head, I release her, then open the driver’s door. Leaning down, my gaze finds hers. “Just come and look, I think you’ll like it.” I wink before I close the door and make my way over to her side of the car. She’s still sitting inside, probably too shocked to be able to move.
Holding out my palm, I wait for hers and thankfully, without any coaxing, she slips hers inside and I help her stand on her feet.
She’s dressed down tonight, just wearing a pair of distressed jeans and a loose-fitting tank. I like that she doesn’t dress in skin tight clothing all of the time. For work she looks every bit the sexy business owner, but she still doesn’t show off her body the way most women do, the way my future wife does.
Guiding her over to the resident elevator, we walk inside of the car, in silence, and wait for it to climb to the third floor.
When it dings, I step out, keeping my palm in hers and tug her a little harder than I normally would, to get her feet moving. She bites the corner of her lip and stumbles, then straightens herself. When we find the number fifteen, I know that this is the place.
Opening the door, I take a step inside and grin. It’s exactly as my real estate agent said it would be. Thankfully, I had her send a mattress and box springs along with a set of sheets so that I didn’t have to fuck Lenora against a wall. I will fuck her against the wall, but I didn’t want that to be the only option for the evening.
“What did you do?” Lenora asks.
Spinning around, I look down at her and smirk. I haven’t really looked at the place. One wall is all red brick, which was the reason I bought it, I thought it was something she’d like.
“I don’t want to travel an hour each way to see you. I’m selling my place and I bought this one so that I only have to take the Manhattan Bridge. Fifteen minutes to work. You can’t beat that, tesoro.”
ELENORA
I blink at his words, again. What the fuck? He bought this to be closer to me? The words sink in and then everything that Chloe and I talked about completely disappears. There’s still something that I don’t quite understand, so many small mysteries about him, but this man, he isn’t in this just for a booty call.
Taking a step closer to him, I place my palm on the center of his chest. “Carlo, this is… it’s too much,” I whisper.
His hand lifts, cupping my cheek and then his thumb slides along my bottom lip. “For you? Never.”
My entire body swoons. Everything inside of me melts. The apartment is bigger than two of mine put together, and it looks over the top expensive. My eyes quickly scan the area, but I don’t dwell on any one thing, not when I can look into Carlo’s blue gaze.
“I don’t understand,” I frown.
He chuckles. “I don’t either. There I was living my life, and then you appeared in front of me and everything changed.”
I bite the corner of my bottom lip. “It all changed for me too,” I breathe.
“You have no idea, tesoro.”
Rising to my toes, I touch my lips to his. He allows me to kiss him for a moment, then his hand moves from my cheek to tangle in the back of my hair. He takes over, angling my head so that he can slide his tongue inside of my mouth and deepen the kiss.
I moan, my back arching as my body goes completely limp against him. Lifting my hand, I grip his shoulder and hold on so that I don’t fall to the floor. Carlo growls, I swallow the sound, loving the way that I can draw it from him.
His lips travel from mine, down the column of my neck. When he nips my skin, I let out my own groan. I feel his hand glide over my waist and then slip beneath my tank top.
“Carlo,” I sigh as his fingers curl around the cup of my bra before they tug it down.
He gently sinks his teeth into my neck and my entire body sways.
“Merda,” he growls.
I hum, wishing that I was naked, that he was naked, and that he was buried deep inside of me. I don’t care how much I ached all day long, it’s nothing compared to the needy feeling that I have right now.
He pinches my nipple, tugging gently then lifts his head to look up at me. “Let me take you out tomorrow night.”
“Cards at your casino?” I ask.
He smirks, nodding his head. “Bring your girl. She will no doubt enjoy gambling with my money.”
“I think Chloe may like that,” I mutter.
But right now, Chloe, cards, and gambling are not my top priority. I need him inside of me. Reaching between us, I find his belt and begin to unfasten it. My fingers fumble, but eventually get the belt unbuckled, then I reach for his pants and undo those before I slide the zipper down.
Without delay, I slip my hand beneath the waistband of his underwear and wrap my fingers around his hard length. He grunts, thrusting his hips toward me, then shifts them away so that I’m forced to release and move my hand completely from beneath his pants.
“Not yet, Lenora,” he chuckles.
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I almost beg him, almost. I don’t. I’m needy, but I’m not quite that needy, yet. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and look up at him. His eyes are dancing as if he knows exactly what I want.
“We need to talk about what this means,” he says.
I frown, unsure of what he’s referring to. I wait for him to continue and I smile when he runs his fingers through his hair. He looks deliciously rumpled. His pants undone and hanging open, his hair a mess and his lips slightly swollen from mine.
“What does it mean?” I ask.
“You and me, we’re together, completely. I meant it last night, Lenora.”
I nod. “Okay…”
“Which means, I’d like to know where you are. If you leave to go to a movie or something, can you shoot me a text?”
My lips turn up into a wide smile. I can’t hold it in, can’t hold it back. “Can you text me, at all?”
Arlo chuckles, lifting his hand to cup my cheek. “I’ll do better, tesoro. Now, where were we?”
Chapter Seven
ELENORA
Rolling over, I reach out to the messy sheets next to me and find them cold. Frowning, I sit up, looking around, I see no sign of Carlo anywhere.
Last night.
Oh my God, last night was amazing, but something niggles at me, it’s a constant feeling that is always present when it comes to him. Something just doesn’t add up, just isn’t right.
Looking around to the floor, my frown deepens when I don’t see any of Carlo’s clothes strewn about with my own. Grabbing my panties, then my tank top, I tug them both on and go in search for him.
The apartment is disturbingly quiet. I check the balcony, since its where I found him last time smoking. Smoking. Another thing that I didn’t realize he did. While it should be a turnoff for me, it just quite simply isn’t.
Carlo is mysterious in so many ways, and that just is one of them. He doesn’t smell like smoke when I’m wrapped in his arms, yet I’ve sat right next to him and watched as he puffed on the cigarette.
Becoming his Mistress: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel Page 5