Damn fucking shit. "It is true."
"Then you should've let me decide what to do. I should've made the choice to stay or go.” Always so rational as she implores me to hear her message. Her gorgeous blue eyes pleading with mine. But right now we don’t need rational. We need her to accept us being together. Permanently. “And now you're doing the same thing. I deserve to have time – without pressure from you – to make up my mind."
"There's nothing to make up. You want me." Could I sound any more like a pompous ass? But this is fucking ridiculous. I know she fucking loves me. Even if her words contradict her actions. "Just admit it."
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Her head droops forward. Hiding her gorgeous face from me. Cloaking both of us in her devastation. “Because giving in makes me a fool.”
Fucking pride standing in the way. She’s not fighting me. She’s fighting herself. It takes everything I have not to argue with her. I won’t convince her. Not like this. Not by bickering. Not tonight. I release her and kiss the top of her head. “Enjoy your run.”
I force myself to stride to the door in silence. Wishing she’d stop fucking worrying about what her brilliant brain thinks and listen to what her broken heart wants.
“Gio?”
Damn if I don’t love my name on her lips. I spin around. Her gaze remains glued to the carpet despite her power to hold me here with just one word. “Yeah?”
She taps the tip of a shaking finger over her heart. “What does the flame mean?”
The tattoo. Her tattoo. Another visual reminder of my failure. Making my response the easiest and shittiest answer I’ve ever given her. “That I was living in hell every single fucking day for the last six months without you.”
Her head bobs again. A few seconds pass without any more questions, leaving me no choice. I have to walk away.
He’s still so unbelievably handsome. Only the hallway light spills across his bare body. Sprawled on his back, shadows capture the valleys between the muscles lining his stomach. The ink on his thick chest and sculpted arms darken the olive skin. A sharp contrast to the white sheet, revealing only a hint of the curve of his toned thigh.
Not that realistically he would've changed that much in six months. I guess since I have, I thought he would too. I’ve slowly gained back most of the weight I lost when I was too upset to eat. My ribs and hips not jutting out in distress any longer. But somehow I still feel small. Unimportant. Insignificant.
I shouldn’t have come in here. But sleep eludes me. When I'm in his house. When he's so close. All my thoughts continue to jumble with him anyway. Regardless of where I am. One insistent notion that won’t fade. A simple truth I can't deny.
I’m in hell too without him.
He honored my request and ignored me all evening. Not interfering as I moved my belongings to the guest room. Or when I worked out. I had the gym to myself. Running six miles on the treadmill. Worrying he would come in. Disappointed when he didn't. Ate a bowl of his housekeeper's amazing vegetable soup and homemade rolls at the breakfast counter alone. Curled up on the sofa to watch a movie when exhaustion overcame me, too tired to study any longer, and he never even walked down the hall. So quiet, I'm not even sure he was still in the penthouse.
Now we both are. Separate and desolate. Terrified he’ll hurt me again, and I’ll return to my misery. But for now, for this time we have together, I can at least have some temporary happiness. However short-lived that joy may be. I pretended before that I was fine when I wasn’t. I can pretend just as well when this is over.
The knob clicks shut behind me and I pause, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. I take a tentative step forward only to be shoved backward. Agony blasts through my head as I slam into the drywall. An immobile force on my throat wedges me against the plaster. Something hard and cold jabs my temple. I futilely claw at the forearm crushing my windpipe. Digging into the taut muscle with all my force. Resisting the black spots dancing in front of my eyes. Fighting the panic threatening to steal my ability to battle this force attacking me.
“Chryseis?”
Gio’s confused whisper blows against my roasting skin. The suffocating weight releases from my neck and my body instinctively arches upward. Sucking in air I never realized I could miss so much. Coughing and sputtering after my lungs fill with oxygen again. Barely able to choke out a response. “It’s me.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Fear like I’ve never heard before rages in his voice from my breathless whisper, and a flash of metal whips downward in the blackness as he tosses the gun on the carpet. Coiling around me so tight I’m not holding myself upright any longer. Weightless from him sheathing me to his chest.
“Fuck.”
Trembling just as hard as him, I wrap my arms around his waist. “I-I’m okay.”
“I never thought you’d come to me. I thought you were an intruder…Fuck!”
His grip tightens. Fingers tangled in my hair burrowing me deeper into his body. Almost smothering me all over again. As frightened as I am, I know he's suffering more. His worst nightmare almost came true. Rather than protecting me he almost hurt me. I kiss his blazing chest. Tensing under my lips. Both of us wheezing in fear. “I’m really okay.”
He scoops me up, curling me against him, and carries me to the mattress. Gently laying me on the twisted sheets before sliding in behind me. His heart pounds against my back. Both of our bodies taut and pulsing from him scaring the hell out of us.
“God damn it. You’re in my bed from now on. None of this fucked up fucking shit anymore.”
So distraught he can barely speak. I nod, needing reassurance as much as he does, and his hard breaths start to slow. Finally calming with my agreement. A hand snakes up from my hip and under my tee shirt before sliding between my breasts. His fingers splayed around my throat. Claiming me. With or without sex. With or without my agreement. With or without protest. I belong to Giovanni again.
I almost fucking shot her.
I almost fucking shot the only woman I’ve ever loved who might be carrying my child again.
What in the fucking hell is wrong with me? I fucking swear I heard the click of a safety. I must have been dreaming. She stood in front of me. Happy and hopeful. Holding out her open hand. Urging me to accept. Offering herself to me again. Despite every urge to touch her, I couldn’t seem to move. Tangled in something I couldn’t fight through. Until I heard that fucking gun behind her. Until some motherfucker wanted to hurt my Books.
A shaking hand entwines with my fingers wrapped around her delicate throat. Holding her in place. Holding her secure. Holding her with me.
I'm sorry I scared the fucking hell out of her, but I'll never be sorry she's here with me. "I would never hurt you."
"I know. I shouldn't have snuck in here in the middle of the night."
I'm so fucking glad you did. "Why did you?"
"I missed you."
My cock hardens fully against her ass. Which I know she can feel. She doesn't protest, and I don't push. Letting her talk with the admission I've been waiting to hear for too damn long. "I've missed you too angel."
She's quiet again. Only the sound of the rustling blanket as her fingernails glide up and down my forearm. Confirming she's deep in thought. About me. Fuck.
"I'm not sure if I can trust this – trust you. But I want to be with you for as long as it lasts."
I flinch from the dubiety invading her whisper. "Forever. That's how long it fucking lasts."
My grip on her neck squeezes. An involuntary response from her remark. Fuck me for being a dick. She's probably already tender from my fucking attack. I need to fucking get my shit together.
“But, please promise me you’ll really protect my family and Sheena. I can't let anything happen to them because of my mistakes."
Damn. So fucking close but I still can't completely eradicate her insecurity. "We are not a mistake. And, I swear you don't have to worry about them. They will alway
s be safe."
Even if I have to bring them here too. I'll buy every apartment in the building if I have to. Whatever it fucking takes to make her believe in me. To believe in my commitment.
The tension loosens from her rigid body, and she snuggles deeper into my chest. Seeming to relax for the first time since I brought her home. Hopefully, accepting the vow I've made to her. So, I guide our coupled hands to her stomach and gently tug on the silver pendant. Lying in the dark, adrenaline barreling through us, we're both exposed. Vulnerable. Weak. I plunge in with the other question weighing on me since last night. “What was it like?"
“What?”
“To have my baby inside you.”
My voice seems so loud in the starkness of the quiet room. Blaring from the ambivalence still evident between us. Silky hair sways across my bare chest from her head shaking as she gulps. Fighting to keep from crying. Fuck me for being an asshole and upsetting her again. But I wasn’t there. Wasn’t where I should have been and I need to know. I keep massaging her smooth skin. Hoping she will answer. Wishing she would let me in.
“It was the best four days of my life.”
Thank fuck. She utters the words I was desperate to hear. I know the experience was horrible and shitty and scary. But I wanted her to be ecstatic too. Just like I was for the seconds I imagined her carrying my child.
“I mean I was a mess. Trying to understand why you hated me and what I was going to do. How I was going to tell my parents and figure out my class schedule. But that was just the practical side of things. I already loved him.” A wistful laugh breaks through her tears. “Or her. Either way, I knew it would be okay somehow. He gave me hope I would be all right because I would have him. Even if I didn't have you.”
Those last words punish me the way I deserve. She should have always had me, pregnant or not. “If things had worked out, you’d be almost due.”
Her head bobs. She was honest with me about the book and the ring so I have to return the favor. "I hope you're pregnant again."
"Gio...I..."
Reluctance I don't want to hear strains her voice. Clogged with old and new emotions same as mine. "But even if you're not, you're still going to marry me."
"We can’t even figure out how to be in the same room together without all hell breaking loose. How can we get married?"
Tucking her back against me when her exasperation threatens to make her sit up, I nuzzle her narrow shoulder and grind my eager cock against her. "Now, that's where you're wrong, Books. We always get along in bed."
Fuck it. Risking her indignation, I release the three rhinestones dangling from her belly button ring and grasp her nipple. Rolling until the soft bud hardens to match my dick. Teasing the taut nub until she arches into my fingers searching for more. That I'm oh so willing to give her.
"Gio..."
I like the hunger in her tone so much better than the previous doubt. With a heavy tit in each hand I stroke and tug until the torpedoes pulse under my ministrations. I growl my gratitude to her for caressing my cock with her dainty fingers. Her strokes grow more and more urgent as I slip under the waistband of her leggings and panties. Her hips lift, thrusting her smooth mound into my palm. Already searching for my magic on her clit. God I fucking love my needy girl and her greedy pussy. I’m going to give you all that and more angel. But not yet. Not until I know the other confirmation I seek from her. “Did you ever let him touch you like this?”
She stills from my question. A stunned gasp her only response. Yeah, I’m a cruel, selfish motherfucker, but I’m desperate to claim her completely. “Did he ever make you come so hard you cried?”
“Stop it. You’re disgusting.”
Rage throbs in her voice matching her pulsing body. She twists, trying to get away. Furious and fiery. I’m glad. I need to know she’s here with me. Only wants me. Only loves me.
My arm wraps tighter around her chest. My fingers cup her sweet sex. Immobile physically and mentally. “Did he make you want his cock so bad you begged for it?”
“You know we never made love.”
Thank fuck for that. “Why not?”
She mutters something I can’t make out. But pretty much sounds like she confirms I’m an asshole. “Why not?”
“Because he’s a good man who doesn’t practically kidnap me or hold me prisoner.”
“Why not Chryseis?”
“You’re a bastard.”
The insult still rings through as her voice cracks. The anger dissipating only to be replaced with despair. Killing me to make her cry. But I have to fucking know. “Why didn’t you fuck him?”
All the fight evaporates and her body falls limp against me. “Might as well answer because I won’t let you go until you do.”
“Because I don’t love him.”
Fuck me. Beyond shocked she admitted the truth. Proof that I’ve smothered all her resiliency. And now it’s just pain talking. Hers. Mine. Ours. “Who do you love?”
“I can’t...”
"Please…I need to hear you say it."
"You.” Her shoulders hunch as she sobs. “As much as I don’t want to, I love you.”
I roll her onto her back and plank over her. I hate myself. I hate her tears. I hate that she only expresses the sentiment when forced.
“Why do you keep torturing me?”
“I don’t mean to.” I kiss her wet skin before she turns away. So I speak directly into her delicate ear. “I just want you to be honest with me. I’ll do whatever it fucking takes for you to believe in me again. Just give me the chance.”
The tears cease but her eyes remain closed. Unwilling to face me. But at least she listens. If I have to beg like a fucking ass bitch, then I will. “I won’t let you doubt this because I fucked up and you’re too stubborn to forgive me.”
Finally her lids unclench. Her gaze filled with the fucking fire I love. “I’m not stubborn! I’m realistic. I can’t trust you.”
“Why? I didn’t cheat on you or hit you or–”
“It would have been easier if you had. Then I would know I was right. I could make the right decision.”
“That’s why you can’t walk away. Because I fucked up. God, I fucked up so fucking bad.” She studies me as I speak. Staring into my eyes, watching my lips. Seeking honesty. Hopefully absorbing the sincerity I’m trying to convey. I tip my forehead to hers. “But only because I love you. Because I needed to protect you and your family.”
“I know.”
This time my head flies up. Cupping her damp cheeks. “What?”
“I know you love me.”
“Fuck yes I do. And, you love me.”
She nods between my fingers. “But I don’t think I can take getting hurt again.”
“You won’t. I swear to God you won’t.”
So fucking close. We might actually be back. Well, with one more thing to prove myself to her. That I’m not always a stupid bastard. I mimic her request from last night. “Make love to me Books.”
A slow smile draws up her cheeks before laughter fills the dimness as her chin lifts. I can’t fucking believe it. She laughs at me. My cock stirs back to life from her impudence. I’m trying to be fucking romantic and serious and genuine, and she’s fucking laughing.
Fine. But she should be fucking prepared for my response to her sassiness. All of her humor melts just like her resolve when I rub the heel of my hand across her clit. I’m not fucking kidding around anymore. I can get my girl off in less than two minutes with just my palm. I fucking love that about her. That I’m the only person who knows the secret to making her come so easily. Who will ever be the only man to elicit such a huge orgasm out of her.
Delicate fingers entwine with mine helping driving me deeper, swiveling back and forth to ebb and flow the pressure. I practically hunch her thigh with my cock, keeping time with our pleasure to her glorious pussy. “You like that angel?”
“M-more...please...I…”
Now I’m the one smirking. I dip down and meet
her lips, parting for me and delving into my mouth. Copying the frenzied rhythm of our coupled hands captured between our hips. Fuck me if she doesn’t taste like the purest heaven. I need more too. I need all of her.
Protesting the loss of my touch, she grabs for me when I lift up. Short fingernails digging into my triceps from her demand for me to keep fucking her with my fingers. God, I’m a pussy bitch but I love that she doesn’t want to let me go. We’ve got plenty of time to make up for what we missed.
I climb off the bed followed every inch by her gaze. The wariness lining her stunning face as her chest rises and falls. Failing to catch her breath with the inferno raging between us. Her gorgeous body starts when I brush her hip bones and grasp her yoga pants and thong, sliding them down her toned legs. Which fall open the instant she’s bare. Her arousal glistening on her pink lips. Fucking magnificent.
Without any direction from me, she slowly lifts up her tank top over her head. Baring herself completely to me. I can’t help but work my cock with this tiny beauty laid out for me. Nervous fingers fiddle with the jewels at her waist while she watches me watch her. While I burn this image into my brain. Her glorious gift forever ingrained in my mind until my eyes close for the final time.
Scarlet flushes her soft cheeks and her gaze breaks as she nods toward the nightstand.
“We should use a condom.”
I’m between her legs in a heartbeat. Sliding across the mattress until we’re chest to chest. Cradling her delicate head in my hands while her fingers thread through mine. “Never. I need to get you pregnant.”
“You really are insane.”
“I know what I want. Wife, bunch of children, house with a huge yard. The whole fucking thing. With you.”
“I don't care what you say. I am not driving a minivan.”
Like she won’t be chauffeured everywhere she goes for the rest of her life. “You’ll drive whatever the fuck I tell you to drive when my baby’s in your belly and my kids are piled in the backseat.”
Her thighs squeeze mine in response to my chauvinistic attitude. But she fucking loves it and she knows it. Because we both know the real truth now – she fucking owns me. I’m forever at her mercy.
Under the Influence Page 10