by Haley Ladawn
The room appeared to be empty, and I didn’t understand why. It was breathtaking with a high ceiling, marble flooring, a dark mahogany color scheme, and a beautiful, warm fireplace that was burning timber through the room. There was even a balcony that looked over the entire estate.
A large walk-in closet took up the left side of the room, and it was filled with men’s designer clothing and dress shoes. To the right, an extravagant, polished bathroom that had a giant Jacuzzi in it and a walk-in shower on either side. The Jacuzzi had several jets on each side, and it made me long for a bubble bath.
I glanced at my appearance in one of the full-length mirrors, and that was enough to send me looking for the soap. I opened the decorative cabinets, looking for anything that could help fix myself.
“Bingo!” I narrowed my eyes at all the Italian labels, confused. I had no idea what any of the products were, but I sniffed them to make sure. They all smelled great, as if that was any indicator to the contents inside.
I grabbed three tall bottles that I thought were safe to use. One that I assumed was shampoo, one that looked like conditioner, and one that said something about bubbles on the front.
After starting the water and dumping the entire bottle of soap into the Jacuzzi, I marveled at my work as the bubbles began to rise. I didn’t really care if it overflowed and ruined the expensive flooring. Whoever owned this mansion, could probably afford to replace it and then some. Hell, they could probably buy a new mansion if they wanted.
I stripped down and jumped into the Jacuzzi, splashing water on both sides. The heat of the water was enough to send my head back. It was so soothing. By the time I finally shut the water off, I was up to my neck in bubbles. Sweet scented, soft to the touch, bubbles.
Grabbing the bottle that I suspected to be shampoo, I lathered my carrot-colored hair up slowly, letting the shampoo sit for a while to make sure my hair was being thoroughly cleaned.
While waiting, I collected some of the white bubbles and made a Santa Claus beard out of them on my face. I looked like a complete idiot, but I didn’t care anymore.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” I grumbled in the deepest voice I could come up with. “Merry Chris—”
I coughed, choking on some of the soap that had gotten into my mouth.
“You mean Merry Christmas, yes?” An even deeper voice said from behind me. “Or is your English worse than mine?”
I knew that voice, but I was too afraid to look behind me. I didn’t have to because he walked directly in front of me, wearing nothing but a towel. This wasn’t a Christmas miracle. It was a Christmas disaster, but the hard ridges of his abdomen said otherwise.
I adjusted my body in the warm water carefully, hiding behind the bubbles. I was completely naked and my face turned red. Slowly, one-by-one, the bubbles popped, exposing more of my body each time.
My breathing slowed, as I wrapped my arms around myself in a last-ditch effort to seem decent. There was no hope for me.
Chapter 21: Bad Intentions
Elliot Lorenzo Valentino-Tieri Santoro stood before me with one of the most smoldering gazes in the world.
His eyes were the color of a river moving to join the ocean; the color of wild flowers that appear on the side of the road in the summertime; the color of a frozen lake when it just begins to melt; the color of the midwinter sky drifting into the late hours of twilight. His eyes were that kind of blue. The kind of blue that could not justifiably be described as sapphire.
His beauty didn’t stop there. It blended in with his sharp jawline and the deep contours of his face that left a shadowed, haunting look to him. It was in his accent that lingered, like smoke coming off an incense stick.
“I wanted to unwrap you, like a Christmas present, fiorella.” A devilish smirk spread across his soft lips, while he ran his hand through his hair. “But this is somehow better than that.”
I sank farther into the water, trying to hide as much of my body as I could. It was no use because the bubbles were popping left and right. It was as if fate was trying to tell me something that I didn’t want to hear.
I folded my arms across my chest and brought my knees up to hide anything else that he might have been able to see. This position was awkward, but it hid most of my body, aside from my arms and back.
My gaze moved up hesitatingly, starting at his toned calves, then to where the towel stopped just below his knees. I cursed underneath my breath. My eyes stayed on his hips a little longer than they should have, before moving up to his face. He looked tired, as he ran his hand along his jaw slowly. His eyes stayed on me for a long time. He was inspecting me. Maybe to see how broken his favorite toy was.
I wondered if he knew about what happened, if someone had told him, but I was too afraid to ask. A million questions crept through my mind, but they were shushed when his towel hit the ground.
And just like that, he was exposed, just like me.
Turning away immediately, I took one of my hands and covered my eyes, only managing to get more soap in my eyes.
“Don’t be shy, fiorella.” His voice was deep and thick with amusement that made me blush.
“Why are you naked?” I rubbed my eyes with my free hand, taking a heavy breath. It wasn’t the only question I had on my mind, but it was the first to come out.
“I think the real question is why are you peaking?” A smug smile played on his smooth, sensual lips that glistened in the light. “I can see you, cara mia.”
I adjusted myself again, but my breasts wouldn’t go down without a fight. I proceeded with my previous question. “Why are you naked?”
“Because I’m going to come into that Jacuzzi to drown you. And I’m not going to ruin a Gucci suit by jumping in there with clothes on.” He stretched out, knowing that I could see his muscles release and tighten while he did so. My eyes stayed on his pectorals. “Do you see something you like?”
The wry smirk pulling at my sensual lips told him all he needed to know. I was exposed and my nipples were hardening beneath his stare. I told myself it was the breeze coming from the open window.
“Can you hand me a towel?” I reached my hand out, feeling hopeful. “I’ll consider it a Christmas present. Please.”
“Here.” He handed me one of the soft towels from the mahogany cabinets. I was surprised he hadn’t thrown it in the water first. “But it’s not a Christmas present. I’m not that cheap. I want to get you a real gift. Also, Rose?”
I sat on the side of the Jacuzzi just as he was getting inside. He caught me by my foot and I thought for sure that he was going to pull me in, but he didn’t. He just rubbed my foot softly and then moved his hand up my ankle slowly.
“Yes?” I creased my eyebrows, ignoring the massage he was starting to give me. His strong, calloused hands somehow felt warm and smooth against my skin.
“One day you’re going to want me to see you naked.” He let go of my leg, giving me the faintest, barely interested look. “There won’t be anything left to separate our bodies then. No clothes and no false feelings of hatred.”
That made my chest sink and I wasn’t even in the water anymore. What he said was partially true. The part of false hatred. If I really loathed him, I wouldn’t have hesitated when I had the glass in my hand. I wouldn’t have kissed him once, let alone three times. I wouldn’t have felt the pit in my stomach swallow me when he wasn’t around.
That is, unless lust was stronger than hatred. If that was the case, then the world was fucked up. Maybe Elliot and I were taking a Roman holiday together, taking enjoyment in the each other's pain and suffering. Maybe we were more fucked up than the world was.
I expected us to have an argument, but his eyes just drifted shut.
“Are you sleeping?” I touched his bare chest with my toe, poking him.
“How could I sleep when you keep talking?” He growled, batting his eyes open. He looked tired and weak, which made a weird feeling swell inside my chest. I felt sorry for him.
“I’m sorry my mouth is b
othering you, but you weren’t complaining when I was kissing you.”
“It’s hard to talk when someone is shoving their tongue down your throat.” He winked at me, sighing. “It doesn’t leave you much room to complain. Besides, you can get a little tongue tied, yes?”
“Why do you say yes after everything?” I glared at him, shaking my head in exasperation. “You clearly know exactly what you’re saying! You don’t need clarification! Do you do it just to sound all cute and innocent?”
“There’s nothing cute and innocent about me. I kill you, yes?” His eyes drifted shut again, while his lips seemed to shudder, as if he was cold. “I’m a strong, independent Italian man who doesn’t need a wifey type.”
I burst out laughing, almost falling back into the Jacuzzi on top of him. He would’ve loved that, but something told me that he wouldn’t have been there to catch me. He probably wouldn’t have appreciated all the splashing either.
Something was up with him. He was acting weirder than usual.
I was shaking my head when I noticed it. A white fabric of cloth and gauze was wrapped around his left shoulder. I noticed the drops of blood that collected inside the fabric. I found the reason he was acting so out of it and I felt sick.
“You got shot?” My words came out quieter than my breathing.
“I did, but I’m fine.” He blinked his eyes open for a moment, giving me a surmising look. “I fixed it, fiorella. I’m as good as new.”
“It looks like it hurt…” I winced at the bandage that continued to collect faint drops of crimson blood.
Suddenly, his body tensed. I wondered if it was the pain, or if it was something I had said. I didn’t know what to say or do, let alone what to think.
“Well, no, it felt like pure heaven when the bullet tore through my flesh. I just loved the part where the blood shot out of my body and squirted into my eyes.” He forced a fake smile. “Of course, it fucking hurts, puttana. Do you want to know what a bullet feels like? Want me to shoot you?”
“I was trying to be sympathetic.” I furrowed my brows, turning my body sideways, so I didn’t have to look at him anymore. I was still leaning halfway in the Jacuzzi and halfway out. I decided to let him care for his wounds, while I licked my own. “Go fuck yourself.”
Everything went quiet and then I heard the movement of water. I thought the idiot was splashing water at me, but when I turned around one hand was gripping the side of the Jacuzzi and the other was moving under the water quickly in a repetitive motion. He rasped out a heavy moan that was probably the sexiest thing I’d ever head.
“You’re not—”
“Fucking myself?” He leaned his head back, letting out another deep groan through his clenched teeth. His hand continued to move beneath the water, almost violently as he pumped his cock. “Sí.”
I stared at him blankly, too surprised to form a coherent thought. It was suddenly a hundred degrees in this room, and it wasn’t the steam coming off the water that was affecting me so much.
“Great advice, by the way.” He continued stroking himself, drawing out little rasps of breath that sent a tingle up my legs. His eyes were on me the whole time as my breathing slowed to a stop. “Cazzo!”
“Are you serious?” I moved closer to him, watching his wounded arm carefully as he touched himself. His moans were making it hard to think, but I knew that he needed to stop even if a part of me liked watching him pleasure himself. “You’re going to hurt yourself, Elliot!”
“I’m already hurt.” His movements didn’t slow down at all. In fact, they quickened, until the bandage on his arm turned a deep shade of red. His moans turned to soft whimpers that made me wince. It wasn’t just pleasure anymore. He was in pain.
“Stop!” I shouted, frowning at him even though his eyes were closed in an ecstasy that was mixed with torture. He couldn’t see me anymore, or the rage that was settling on my face. “Your arm is bleeding again! Stop!”
He didn’t listen to me, so I did the only thing I knew how to do. I charged at him, like a bull. I jumped on top of him, ruining my warm, dry towel.
I had one of my hands on top of his, trying to pry his hand away from his pulsing length, and the other around his neck that he broke out of in five seconds. He hugged me, like a giant teddy bear, trying to restrain me. It would’ve felt nice under different circumstances.
“You’re lucky I’m high on pain meds,” Elliot growled, lifting his hand away from his junk. Well, there was the explanation as to why he was acting so weird. He was higher than a kite, just like everyone else in this place.
I stayed silent for a moment, lost in my own thoughts. I was thinking about everything, but Elliot was my focus. He was in front of me and he was in pain, which somehow made me feel hurt too.
“Lily?” Elliot got my attention, narrowing his eyes at me. They were clouded with emotion, but the strongest one seemed to be weariness.
“Yes?” I glanced up at him through my long lashes, hoping they would hide the embarrassment on my face. I had no idea what I was doing anymore. I was beyond confused, but a part of me wanted to make him feel better, which was more screwed up than anything else.
“You have a death grip on my penis.” He breathed through his nose, while his jaw clenched.
“Sorry about that,” I replied, backing away slowly. I fought back a nervous laugh at my own expense.
“You’re still touching me, fiorella,” he said this through a soft moan, biting down on his bottom lip. “If you don’t start moving your hand soon I think I’m going to have a permanent case of blue balls. Merda! Fuck!”
I wasn’t sure if he was asking for me to take my hand away, or if he was asking me to finish what he started. So, I moved my hand slowly against his rigid, hard length, waiting for him to usher me away, but he never did. He shifted his hips to meet my movements, letting his head fall back.
“Faster.” His voice was a soft command, but a command nonetheless. I obliged, telling myself that it was the giving season after all.
Even I didn’t believe that for a second.
I wanted to touch him and the prickles that were shooting though my body told me all I needed to know. A part of me wanted this. A part of me wanted him.
“Don’t stop.” He gritted his teeth, once I had quickened my movements around his swollen shaft. The tip of it was so sensitive underneath my fingertips. “Keep going and I’ll return the favor, cara mia. You won’t be able to walk once I’m done with you, let alone sit up straight. It’s a good thing that your posture is already so terrible.”
I almost stopped right there.
“Oh fuck,” he growled, wetting his lips with his tongue. That simple gesture made me wet, like soaking wet. His eyes drifted shut and I knew that he was close to coming. “More.”
I continued stroking him, until he let out a torrent of Italian curse words and his hips trembled beneath my touch. I released him just as his own release washed over him, sending his head back as he cursed again. There was no doubt in my mind that he had come and I felt my own wave of pleasure.
“Guess you can’t say I’m bad at giving hand jobs now.” I ruffled his soft hair, standing up from the Jacuzzi. I stretched, as if I’d just had the longest workout of my life. I glanced at the steamy mirrors, still able to see the wet towel that clung to my body and the shampoo that was in my hair. I hadn’t washed it out yet.
“Sí.” Elliot stood up, walking toward one of the walk-in showers, turning the water on. He gave me a sideways glance, before walking past me. Reaching over the counter, he grabbed a razor, while touching my hair slowly. “Ti voglio.”
He seemed perplexed, creasing his eyebrows. “Why do you have shaving cream in your hair?”
“Fuck…” I walked to the other shower and stepped inside. I closed the door behind me and turned on the water immediately. I thought this “shampoo” seemed extra foamy. “I can’t read Italian.”
“But you can read me, no?” He got inside his own shower and we shouted above the
heavy water pressure, just so we could continue talking. “You seem to know what I want and how to give it to me.”
Before I could respond, there was a heavy pounding at the door outside and then it burst open. I could hear the rustling of feet that came toward us.
A group of police officers ran into the room with their guns drawn, aiming them at the two of us. My heart stopped and then it restarted again.
I gave Elliot a once over and he was humming while lathering his dark hair up in some expensive shampoo. He didn’t even look remotely upset, which confused me. I decided to stop thinking about him and start thinking about getting the hell out of here.
“I surrender!” I shouted as I raised my hands into the air.
One of the officers opened the shower door, and dragged me out. He had a gun aimed at my temple, and I heard him pull the trigger. I waited for the horrifying contact of a bullet to hit my skull, but I was only hit with water.
It was a fucking water gun!
Within a matter of seconds, all the officers started dancing and taking off their clothes. One of the muscled men took off their shirt and swung it in the air, like a rope. I was having a heart attack, while the men exposed their flesh and bodies. They were all wearing rainbow colored speedos, throwing glitter into the air.
Out of nowhere, Connor entered the room, clapping like a maniac.
“Strip!” he shouted excitably, throwing a handful of one hundred dollar bills into the air. “Take it off, or take me to jail. I didn’t pay you for nothing! Get those pink, fluffy handcuffs out and put me behind bars.”
Stripper police? Seriously?
Chapter 22: Daddy Issues
The strippers had finally stopped dancing when someone at the party changed the song on the loud speakers. It had gone from a party tune to a soulful number that had everyone contemplating their lives.
Elliot had stayed in the shower the whole time, and nobody dared to lay a finger on him. Probably because they knew he would chop their dick off, and keep it as a sick souvenir.