“Hi Sophia, it’s Gretchen.”
The smile on my face touches my words. God, I love Sophia; she’s like the grandma I never had. So bossy and with zero care for my boundaries, but it’s all cloaked in love, so I never care.
“Ah, beautiful Gretchen. Why are you calling for dinner? You should have a man bringing you in and feeding you.” There’s a hint of laughter in her voice.
Here goes my routine shaming.
“I know, Sophia, but nobody loves me yet, so I’m doomed to walk the earth alone…” I laugh at the Incredible Hulk reference, quiet enough to keep to myself.
“You want the regular, Hulk?” she chuckles, and I start to laugh again.
“Yes, but extra calamari tonight.” Extra is reserved for when I need to eat all my feelings.
“Oh, today was bad?” she says sadly.
“Yes. Sophia, I need the calamari.” And all the wine.
“Okay, I send,” she says directly, yelling in the background in Italian.
It makes me think of Luca.
“Thank you,” I say as she hangs up.
Heading to the shower to rinse off my day and get relaxed, I roll my head side to side, hoping to relieve my stress. It’s going to get better. It has to.
Ten minutes later, I’m lathered, then rinsed, and more relaxed than when I started. I pull the knob to turn off the water and reach outside the warm steam to grab a towel.
After drying my body and tousling my hair, I step out and wipe a clear circle on my mirror so I can see myself. I look tired. Fuck, I feel tired. Shaking my head, I grab a brush and pull it through my hair and make my way out to get some clothes on.
My favorite boy shorts and a tank top do just fine, and I pile my hair on top of my head with a rubber band. I pad back out to my living room and turn on the television and grab the wine I left behind, taking a slow sip. I put on a docu-series about people who hoard and cuddle into my couch while I wait for my food.
My doorbell rings the moment Ellen, the woman with thirty-four frozen cats in her refrigerator, breaks down.
“Nobody likes cold pussy, Ellen,” I say to the television as I stand to answer the door.
I pull a few dollars from my wallet to tip the delivery guy and unlock my door, opening it wide.
“I’m starving…”
My eyes go wide at Luca standing in front of my door, holding my takeout.
I reach out slowly to take the bag and smack the cash into his hand, then step back, shutting the door in his face. His hand shoots out and stops the door, gripping the wood above my head, halfway to closed. He pushes it back open with raised brows.
“What are you doing here? And how’d you get my food?” I snap, turning around, angry at being ambushed.
Luca’s eyes take me in, and he motions to my body.
“Why the fuck are you wearing that? What if it wasn’t me at the door?”
His aggravated tone only makes me want to shut the door again.
I roll my eyes.
“Give me a break. Well, I’m sure the delivery kid has seen women…even if only in magazines,” I reply sarcastically.
I walk back a few steps to my opened door and attempt to close it again.
“For fuck’s sake. Let me in,” he laughs, holding the door in place and looking down at my irritated face.
“No,” I bark out firmly.
He gives the door a slow push, and it moves me backward.
“I’m only asking to be polite, Angel.” His tone firm and threatening.
I let it open and stick a hand on my hip.
“Then be polite, Luca. Accept my answer.”
Right as I say it, my neighbor from across the way pops his head out. He’s a surfer-looking guy, and I’m pretty sure all he does is smoke pot and spend his trust fund. But he’s nice enough.
“Hey, Gretchen. Everything cool?”
I can see him trying to take in what’s happening past Luca’s back, but since Luca takes up most of the doorway, that’s hard to do.
I raise my eyebrows to Luca, who stares at me but speaks to Ethan.
“Go the fuck in your apartment. Nobody needs you here.”
I smack his chest, and he winks at me. I swear he doesn’t give any fucks about anyone but himself.
“Hey, man, that’s not cool,” Ethan answers in true granola pothead form.
Luca starts to turn around, and I grab his shirt, shaking my head.
“I’m good, Ethan. Thanks. My boyfriend is just a dick. It’s a condition he’s seeking help for. Don’t worry, I got it.”
Luca’s face grows in amusement.
“Boyfriend?” He smirks.
Shit.
I wave him inside, closing the door.
“Get in and stop embarrassing me. I thought it was easier than ‘gigantic pain in the ass.’”
As he walks in, his eyes scan my body up and down, and everywhere his gaze touches breaks out into goose bumps. I turn and walk to the kitchen, setting my bag down, trying to gain some space and calm down.
Luca’s voice calls from behind, “I forgot your extra calamari. Don’t be grumpy.”
I roll my eyes because I need it more than ever.
“Why are you here?” I ask, bringing the container to my nose inhaling the goodness.
He rounds the island and invades my space, putting a hand down on the marble top, his body too close.
“Because we need to talk and you’re avoiding me.”
Luca looks down at me with determined eyes.
“I’m not avoiding you, I’m postponing you.” I put my hand on his chest and push him back. “Space, please.”
He grabs my wrist, holding me in place.
“Stop doing that.”
I tug, but he doesn’t let go.
“Let me go.”
“Sweetheart, I’m about two seconds away from tying you to the bed and making you listen while I eat.”
The look on his face tells me what I already know—that he’s serious.
“Fuck you. This is my dinner,” I argue, waving my hand over the top of it.
“And you can keep it. That’s not what I’ll be eating.”
My eyes shoot back to his as his gaze travels down my body until it reaches my center. My clit throbs like the traitor it is, but in my defense, he did leave me high and dry.
I snap my fingers in front of my lady parts to gain his attention.
“I have no interest in fucking you or being punished by you again, Luca. This body is off-limits to you,” I snark, reminding him of Michael, even though I broke up with him the moment we left the house.
The slow smirk that draws across his face should be illegal. I swallow hard, beginning to regret my little challenge.
He drops quickly into a squat, pressing his mouth into my pussy.
“Holy…yesss.” I grip the counter, overwhelmed by the sensation.
He sucks my clit through my shorts, and my body jerks. “Oh my, Jesu, fuc—” is all I get out as his hands push my legs apart with force and he devours me. He eats me through my fucking shorts, and my hands tangle in his hair.
Luca is animalistic, ferocious with need. I push myself into him, my hips rocking against his mouth while I watch him. He growls into my clit, and his hands begin pulling at my shorts. I hear a ripping sound accompanying the tug of my body, and suddenly I’m free.
He pulls his face from me and looks up to my smile. The son of a bitch is pleased with his destruction of my boy shorts.
“Don’t ever tell me your body is off-limits. Your pleasure belongs to me and me alone.”
His face comes closer, and he runs his tongue through my slit slowly, making my breath hitch and a moan pull from my throat. My head falls back, and I grip his head harder. “I will give it—” He blows on my sensitive clit, then stops. “—and take it away.”
I bite my lip, the sensation still lingering. He closes his mouth over my clit and rolls his tongue, massaging it, making my body writhe.
The famili
ar build begins inside of my body, and I begin to rock my hips, but his grip on my waist is keeping me still. He’s holding me right where he wants me, making it hard for me to move, completely at his mercy. He’s licking, sucking, and nipping at my clit, and all I can do is cry out as the pressure for release starts to build.
“Fuck. Luca, don’t you dare stop. I’ll stab you to death,” I threaten, feeling my muscles start to tighten.
He hums into my clit, as two fingers push inside my pussy, and I fly over the edge, screaming and riding his fingers for the sweetest relief, smacking my hands against the countertop over and over. “Yes!” My body shakes. My eyes are screwed shut, and my breathing is erratic. He pulls his fingers from me, and I wince at the loss as he brushes soft kisses against my clit.
“Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”
I wish I could stay in this moment with him, but it’s false. I should remind him of that.
I exhale and look down at his face.
“Yeah? Better than your wife’s?”
If he thought that eating my pussy was going to make me forget, he’s sorely mistaken. Nobody’s tongue is that magical.
He kisses the inside of my thigh, then bites, making me jump before he rises to his feet.
“I can arrange for you to do a taste test if you’d like to know. You know, since you had a taste of yourself the other night.”
His voice is as smooth as the devil. Such an asshole.
I stand a little straighter and kick off my ripped shorts.
“Get out. You’re done here—thanks though, it was great. But I’m hungry, and I would like to eat alone.”
He shakes his head.
“You promised me a talk, and I just said I was sorry for the other night.”
His eyes search mine for the submission he’s not going to get.
“I didn’t hear any apology,” I huff before I turn away and take the lid off my food, steam rising from the container.
His breath is hot on my neck as he closes in behind me.
“I didn’t use words, Angel.”
He plants a kiss behind my ear, and I shiver.
I roll my eyes and grab my fork from the counter, stab the contents, then take a bite. What the fuck am I doing? I can’t keep playing this little game, letting him fuck me, acting like it doesn’t mean anything, because to me it means everything. I can’t cut myself loose of him.
Turning, I look at him expectantly.
“What the fuck are you going to tell me that will make one difference, Luca? The fact is, you’re married. And I was stupid enough to believe the ‘always’ bullshit.”
“Angel.”
His eyes urge me to be reasonable, but I’m hurt, and I want him to feel it, so I shake my head.
“Goddammit!” he yells and smacks the counter on either side of me with both hands.
I lock eyes with him and take another bite of my food. I’ve run his patience out, and the devil’s finally shown his face. Too bad I’m unafraid.
“Can you not? My neighbors will hear.”
I look at his arm, and he lifts it as I walk past him with my food. Luca takes my container of calamari from me and tosses it in the sink, then grabs me by the waist and pushes me forward, almost too quickly for my legs to keep up, toward my room.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I demand, grabbing his wrists.
“I told you I’d tie you to the bed. I’m going to do that and then force you to listen to me,” he roars back.
“Are you crazy? You are crazy! Would you stop it?” I bite out, smacking back at him.
He pulls me to a stop and spins me around, bending to look me in the eye.
“You, Angel, are the most irritatingly stubborn woman I’ve ever known. And I love you with every goddamn fiber of my being. Please stop trying to make me pay for something I didn’t do. Listen to your gut, Angel. You know me. More importantly, you know us. We don’t lie. We don’t manipulate. Please let me explain.”
His words make me gnaw on my lip. Shit. It’s everything I feared because I have been lying, to myself and him.
“You don’t get to manhandle me,” I say firmly.
He just shrugs, but I push his hands from me. Fucker.
He keeps my hands in his, and I look down at how strong they are and how small mine are in comparison. He could crush me. I laugh to myself. He already has—just not with his hands.
I know he loves me, and I believed he’d hold me—us—above everyone and everything else…except he didn’t, and that’s why I walked away. He chose her by way of choosing his hate above our love, above me.
“No lies, no manipulations,” I breathe out.
It’s sick, but I need him to say it all, tell me what happened in that room. I want all the sordid details because then maybe I’ll be able to really walk away.
He smiles a sad smile.
“I can’t lie to you. You always hear what I mean, not just what I say. Remember?”
I do, but this time, I’ll hear that my worst nightmares are true.
“Okay.” My answer feels small for what we are about to do.
He looks down and back up to my face.
“Right after you get new underwear,” he says, and I nod. “It’s distracting.”
He smirks, and I turn and walk into the bedroom to grab a new pair of panties. Luca is standing in the doorway watching me as I turn around and pull them up.
The way he looks rattles me to the core; he’s afraid. I’ve never seen him this way, and it’s unsettling. I want to comfort him, tell him I won’t run, that I love him enough to stay. But that would be a lie. I love him enough to try, even to fight for us, but it’s his love that’s a problem. I walk toward him as he takes a step into my bedroom and freeze when he starts speaking.
“I never touched Shelby. What you heard was her pretending to want to fuck me, like I was her savior, rescuing her from Giovanni, but I knew she was full of shit.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Giovanni’s handiwork is much more brutal and uncontained. I’ve seen it.” I wince at the thought as he continues. “I was being set up. They wanted her back in my life so she could give Gio information on me. They thought they could play on my heartstrings. Shelby mistakenly thought I cared for her.”
Luca takes a seat on my bed, and I do the same, next to him. He absentmindedly draws tiny circles on my thigh. “How could I care? I’ve only ever loved one woman.” His hand retreats, and he clasps them together in his lap, looking into my eyes. “So, I made her beg. Made her drop to her knees and beg me to suck my dick.”
I know what he’s saying is true—I remember it. I’ve always known this is the truth. What seemed sexy became obvious hatred when I saw the players and now seems brutal as I understand the context.
“Why?” I catch myself saying aloud, and he looks at me, his eyes filled with regret. “Luca, I want to know.” I need to know.
I have to understand what is more important to him than us.
He cradles my face.
“Because the man I am to others isn’t the one you love. I’m cruel and unforgiving. I punish and not with pleasure. I’m a monster, Gretchen, and now you will always know who I am.”
His voice is so gentle, the opposite of his words.
I can’t look at him; all his fear and anguish play across his face. I feel it in my soul. He’s anticipating my hate, accepting it. Luca lets me go and stands to walk toward the window. His resignation pisses me off.
“You’re a coward!” I bite out, and he turns to look at me angrily. “You always assume I don’t see you. When will you learn? I know who you are. I’ve always known who you are. I love you despite it. Your cruelty is part of your beauty. You punish those who deserve it. But in all of this, you still don’t see it—you don’t understand the role you really play.”
My body shoots to standing, and my palms cover my face as I exhale into them.
He’s still not accepting his responsibility in a mess he’s created. I run my hands down my ch
eeks as he smacks his chest. His voice raises as his anger grows.
“You know me? You love me despite who I am? I wanted Shelby on her knees, begging and humiliated. I took pleasure in watching her suffer. That’s who I am. How can you love that? What the fuck am I missing, Angel? Tell me.”
The hatred he has for himself clouds every piece of judgment.
We stand staring at each other, my chest heaving from my rage.
“You’re so stupid. You wanted to humiliate her because she took from you, and you still can’t admit that the life you were trying to build meant something to you. Your denial fed your fucking choice.” I throw my arms up. “You chose to punish her when you should have walked away…for me. And I won’t forgive that. I love you, but it’s not unconditional.” I drop my arms and blink back my tears.
Luca grips the top of my desk chair, dropping his head and looking down.
“You think I chose her?” He picks up the wooden chair by my desk at the window and slams it back to the floor, then turns and points a finger at me. “I hold you above all. My love for you is dangerous to every other fucking person who would come between us. It’s almost too dangerous for you, Angel.” He’s seething. “Tell me what you need.”
I shake my head, not wanting to go any further. Now I’m the coward, too afraid to ask for what I want. But he won’t let me back down.
“What do you want from me to prove how sacred you are to me? Because you are, Angel.”
He runs his hands through his hair, locking his fingers behind his head, elbows spread.
“I need you to admit what you did.”
My voice is unwavering. It’s that moment, the one we can’t come back from.
His expression is sardonic.
“You want me to beg.” He laughs. “I’d die on my knees for you, so joke’s on you, Angel.”
His arms drop from his head.
My voice is softer than before.
“No. I don’t want you to beg. I just want to be your only.”
I feel so vulnerable saying it. I started out envious of Shelby, but he loved me, and I loved him. But I won’t share him with all the darkness that pulls him apart.
“Bullshit. I’m always thinking of you,” he answers unconvincingly.
He’s defensive. I could shake him.
Worship (Sinful Series Book 2) Page 19