We both gave our orders and had our glasses topped off before the man scurried off to the kitchen.
“It’s refreshing to see a woman who knows what she wants,” Luca remarked. I had hardly perused the menu, knowing what I would order well before I arrived.
“There’s hardly a bad choice on the menu. I grew up eating most of these dishes or simplified versions.” I smiled to myself, remembering my mother’s mother who used to cook for us at every opportunity. Food is a cornerstone in any Italian home.
“Tell me more about your family.”
“There’s not much to tell. There are lots of them—as is the Italian Catholic way—but otherwise, we’re a pretty standard lot.”
“Are you close to them?”
“That depends on what you mean by close. We have Sunday dinner each week, per my mother’s orders, but I wouldn’t say we’re close in the true sense. We’re all pretty private, I guess. What about you—are you close with your family?”
“My dad wasn’t around, and my mom died years ago. I have a younger sister, but she’s a pain in my ass—always finding herself in some kind of trouble,” he grumbled.
It made me smile to think of tough-guy Luca attempting to parent a younger sister. If she was half as gifted in the looks department, I could see how she might be quite the handful. “It’s good that she has you. A protective older brother could be an asset in this life.” The realization of what I’d said made my breath catch.
I’d had an older brother once, and the memory of his loss, though many years ago, still weighed heavily on my heart. Not wanting to darken the mood with such thoughts, I cast them away with a silent apology to the boy who lived on only in memory.
Our food arrived at that moment, giving me a chance to collect myself. Each course was more delicious than the last. I chided myself for relying so often on my meal delivery service. Their catered meals were as good as pre-prepared food could be, but it couldn’t compare to a freshly cooked meal.
By the time dessert arrived, I could hardly take a single bite. There were only a couple fingers of wine left in the bottle, which Luca poured into my glass.
“I can’t possibly drink anymore—I’m stuffed, and I need to be able to get myself home,” I said with a wry smile. The food had helped to mute the effects of the wine, but I had a nice buzz going. Not so much to be stumbling drunk, but enough that I felt light and airy.
Luca’s eyes heated, and the muscles in his jaw twitched. “I’m sure I could get you home.”
“I bet you could, and I’d probably lose my clothes in the process.”
“Undoubtedly,” he admitted confidently.
We held each other’s gaze for a pregnant moment. The hunger in his eyes was an erotic promise, challenge intrinsic in his stare. As if he could project thoughts into my mind, visions of Luca bare-chested and thrusting inside me, making me scream his name in pleasure, infiltrated my head. With a shaky breath, I dropped my gaze, breaking our contact.
“I should probably get going—I have an important meeting in the morning.” My voice was breathy, and my words sounded uncertain, even to my ear. When I took a hesitant glance back up to Luca, he wore a wicked smile.
“Let’s get you home.”
After he paid the check, and we made our way outside, I turned to tell him goodnight.
“Let me walk you to your car,” he offered.
“I don’t have a car. I walked.” I didn’t want to tell him I had a driver. He was decently well-off in the money department, but I didn’t want to look ostentatious.
“You’re not walking home,” he said irritably. “We’ll take a cab; come with me.” He tugged at my hand, but I held my ground.
“I don’t need a ride—I live nearby.”
Luca stepped close, his gaze burning through me, leaving his mark on my soul in a way that I’d feel long after we parted for the night. The air around us became charged with anticipation, heavy like the moist air of a sultry Florida evening.
In that frozen moment of time, there was only me and Luca.
Weaving his fingers into my hair, he slowly lowered his lips to mine. He was gentle but firm, his lips molding to mine as perfectly as I’d imagined they would. I could feel his restraint as if he were holding a delicate butterfly and trying not to crush its wings. Tasting. Testing. But before long, his control snapped as his touch dug into my flesh, and his kiss became demanding. He seized my mouth like he couldn’t get enough—like I held the cure to whatever darkness seethed inside him.
I should have been alarmed, but instead, a moan slipped past my lips, spurring him on. I lost track of the city around me. People walked past us, and horns honked in the distance as cars wove in and out of traffic, but none of it penetrated my senses. I was ensnared in his kiss, his touch lighting my body on fire as I gave him everything he demanded.
Eventually, he pulled back, eyes hooded and black as night. “Come, I’ll walk you home.”
His warm fingers took hold of mine, a current running between us, electric and inviting. He led us down the sidewalk without a word from me until I realized we were walking in the correct direction without me telling him where to go.
“How did you know which direction?” I asked curiously.
He glanced at me wryly. “Lucky guess—I had a fifty-fifty shot.”
I arched a brow. “Do you often play by chance?”
“I very rarely leave anything to chance. I’m far too controlling to rely on luck to get me what I want.”
“You don’t say,” I mumbled just loud enough for him to hear.
He cut his eyes to me, and there was a hint of humor in their dark depths. “I see you, on the other hand, like to live dangerously.”
His teasing made my heart sore, and I offered him a beaming smile to which he shook his head with a laugh. I led us to my building where trepidation and awkwardness set in, at least on my part. Nothing about Luca could ever be awkward or uncertain. He pulled me aside, just outside the entry steps.
“When do you go to work in the morning?”
“Why?” What did it matter to him when I went to work?
“I’ll drive you. I’m heading to the Triton building, so I might as well give you a ride—there’s too much crime in this city for you to be walking.”
“Actually, I have a driver,” I admitted reluctantly. “I don’t tend to tell people because they often treat me differently when they realize I have money.”
“I’m not like other people; surely, you’ve figured that out. No lies and no omissions, not with me. Understand?” His hand gently secured a stray strand of hair behind my ear, and I could see in the softening of his features, he was genuinely pleased I wouldn’t be walking. He lowered his lips and gently kissed my temple, hands threaded through my hair. “I’m not coming upstairs with you tonight … but soon. I suggest you get used to the idea.” He spoke against my skin, the soft caress of his lips sending waves of chills down my spine. Pulling back, he gazed longingly at my lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised, then drifted away down the sidewalk, leaving me cold and alone.
We’d had no plans to see one another again, but his parting words indicated there would be more—much more. I had never pictured myself with a man like Luca. I figured I’d find a stockbroker or some executive and have a standard suburban life similar to my own upbringing. Luca made it hard to see anything but him—like looking into the sun, blinding me to everything else.
There was only Luca.
My mind became entrenched in thoughts of when I’d see him next. It didn’t matter that I had an important meeting in the morning, that laundry needed to be done, or that I had Sunday lunch plans with my family—I wanted to spend that time with Luca. Would he call or text before then? Would I let him fuck me the next time we went out? Could I tell him no even if I wanted to? The question was pointless—I’d wanted to see him naked since the moment I spotted him walking through the Triton lobby. I might have given in to him after
dinner had he pressed the issue.
I started to worry I was becoming obsessed, which wasn’t like me. Even as a young girl, I never lined my bedroom walls with posters of my favorite celebrity or doodled hearts around a boyfriend’s name. I was rational and intentional about my choices in life, but nothing about my desire for Luca was rational. My interest in him defied logic and consumed my every thought. He was a poisonous fruit, and I was a woman starved. He was likely bad for me, but my mouth watered with hunger for him. I would convince myself one taste wouldn’t hurt, and that would be the end of me.
I would no longer be Alessia—I would be his.
6
Luca
When I first asked Alessia out over text, she’d made me wait longer than I’d expected for an answer. Most of the women I’d been around fell over themselves to spend time with me. Had I not stopped her from walking into traffic, I wasn’t sure she would have agreed to a date at all. The reminder of seeing her nearly killed had me clenching my fists until my knuckles ached.
What had she been thinking, being so careless on a city street? The drivers in New York were lunatics; it was a miracle more pedestrians weren’t killed each year. It made me livid to think about what might have happened if I hadn’t been following her.
When I’d leaned in to tell her how she could thank me, my lungs filled with the sweet scent of her. My gut clenched, and I was overtaken with the need to know if she tasted just as delicious—like raspberries in the summer breeze. I thought I’d all but guaranteed I’d get the chance to taste her that night until her text came through, canceling our plans. If she’d thought she could shake me off so easily, she had sorely misjudged me.
I hadn’t crawled my way out of the gutter without a little determination and an unwillingness to take no for an answer. It had been time for her to get a glimpse of who she was dealing with—a hint of the cutthroat man who lurked beneath the outer façade of restraint and civility. I was endlessly curious how she’d respond to him.
When I walked into her office and saw her almond-shaped eyes round with surprise and her painted red lips part on a silent gasp, all I could think about was how I wanted to see that red lipstick smeared all over my dick. I wasn’t sure what she thought I was going to do in her glass-walled office, but she’d obviously been worried. She was out of her chair, tugging me down the hall before I’d gotten a single word out. I would never have jeopardized her job, but she hadn’t known that. Her fear played into my hand perfectly—once she had tucked us away into a secluded room, I was free to do whatever I pleased, and it wouldn’t have taken any coercing.
She had practically begged me to kiss her.
The way her lips had parted… The way her chocolate brown eyes had liquified … I’d had to blow my load afterward to get my raging hard-on under control. She was the epitome of everything I found sexy in a woman. It had only taken a couple of strokes, she had me so on edge. My lack of control had been an embarrassment—I hadn’t come that quickly since my voice had first changed in the eighth grade.
Had I given in to my urge to kiss her in the conference room, caved to that raw need, there was no telling how far it would have gone. Fortunately, I managed to maintain control of myself, knowing it was more important to leave her wanting than to quench my own desire. She had already proven as skittish as a frightened rabbit. I didn’t want to give her any additional reason to pull away.
Alessia was a study in contradictions. The more I learned, the less I understood, and the more fascinated I became. She was prickly yet soft, spoiled but grounded, independent while remaining pliant. The most intriguing part of her was her guileless innocence—as if she were clueless to the world around her.
Could it all be an act? Or was the sexy siren truly as naïve as she seemed? If so, the right thing to do would be to keep things aboveboard—get my information and get out. She would be better off not tangled up in my world. Unfortunately for her, I was never very good at doing the right thing for anyone but myself. It was her own fault she was so fucking tempting, at least that’s what I told myself.
However, chances were slim to none the gorgeous career girl was as pure as she seemed. I had discovered a crucial bit of information when I’d gone in search of Alessia at her office. What I found indicated she likely didn’t have an innocent bone in her body.
What I found changed everything.
If she was truly more wolf than lamb, it was even more reason for me to keep our interactions purely platonic. I didn’t need that kind of complication in my life. And yet, what I wanted to do and what I should do were two totally different things. Whether she was innocent or not, it would be best to keep a tight rein on my raging libido, but it was clear that wasn’t happening. The taste of her lips on mine wasn’t going to satisfy the beast within me. He wanted every piece of her—not just a kiss and a few tidbits of information. He wanted to crawl beneath her skin and see inside her soul.
The insistent craving was distracting.
Regardless of what was right, what I should do, or what I wanted, I was there for a purpose, and that purpose was not my dick. I was looking for someone, and now I knew Alessia could likely give me the answers I needed. That was far more important than anything else.
I needed to get my information and walk away—that would be best for both of us.
But that seductive voice in the back of my mind whispered sweet words of temptation—wasn’t I allowed to have a little fun on the job? It was only sex, nothing more. I desperately wanted to sink myself inside her, and if it helped me get the information I needed, more’s the better. Right? Once I’d felt the creamy skin of her inner thighs wrapped around my waist, the pulsing need to have her would subside.
Hypocrisy is a tricky thing. It parades itself around like rationale and reason, deceiving you into believing your thoughts are sound and just when they are anything but. I had demanded honesty from Alessia but was attempting to pull the wool over my own eyes. I could tell myself all day long one taste of her would be enough, but I knew deep down inside, I had no intention of letting her go.
Consequences be damned—she was mine.
7
Alessia
My meeting with Roger went better than I had anticipated. At the last minute, I pulled in one of our contract managers to join us in the discussion, seating him between us, despite the disgruntled glares from Roger. The report I’d scrambled to prepare had been enough to satisfy my boss, and our third wheel had ensured the meeting didn’t last any longer than necessary.
My thoughts drifted throughout the morning to my dinner with Luca. It had been one of the best dates I recalled ever having. Our conversation had flowed naturally, setting me at ease in what otherwise would have been an unnerving situation. He was respectful of the staff, polite but firm. I found that I loved watching him in action—the way he spoke to people and how he carried himself.
I’d been on a date with a man once who could hardly summon the courage to ask for a refill—there had never been any hope for him. If he couldn’t ask a waiter for water, how could he possibly earn my respect? Being physically appealing was only a portion of the attraction equation. Financial responsibility, shared interests, respect, and numerous other elements were all just as important. For me, one of the most important qualities in a man was confidence—meek and simpering was a total turnoff.
The control Luca exercised in every situation was a testament to his unerring confidence. He was sure of himself and comfortable with who he was. He didn’t suffer from the burden of societal pressures like most people. Luca was unapologetically himself, and that was just as alluring as any Hollywood smile or perfectly chiseled abs.
I also appreciated that he told me about his family. Men were often guarded about their families, and him sharing about his mother’s death and his struggles with his sister helped me see a more human side to the otherwise stoic man. I had desperately wanted to ask questions but felt it might be too forward on the first d
ate.
Thinking about him losing his mom brought me to thoughts of my own family. Aside from Giada, the person I was closest to was probably Sofia. Neither of us had ever connected well with Maria, who was the oldest of us girls. Aside from a few words with her at our family dinners, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spoken to Maria. Sofia, on the other hand, had been my playmate as a child and was somewhat of a confidant through our teen years. Since then, we had maintained a decent relationship with periodic phone calls and the occasional lunch date but nothing so constant as my friendship with Giada.
I realized I hadn’t spoken to Sofia in what felt like ages. She had been preparing for finals during our last family dinner and managed the impossible feat of bowing out of the obligation. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been allowed to miss a Sunday dinner. Since I hadn’t seen her in two weeks, I grabbed my phone, noting no new missed messages or calls, and dialed my sister’s number.
“Hey, Lessi. What’s up?” came Sofia’s angelic voice. When she was little, she couldn’t say my name, instead using the moniker ‘Lessi.’ The nickname stuck for many years, although no one else in the family still used the endearment.
Sofia was the golden child—literally and figuratively. Her hair was a dirty blond highlighted with natural golden streaks, and she had the fairest complexion of all of us. From the time she was little, she’d been a talented artist and was fiercely independent. She never seemed to feel the need to strive for acceptance by our parents or anyone else. She was just about perfect in every way—even her voice sounded like it came from heaven above.
At different stages in our lives, I’d been jealous of my little sister, but no longer found myself ensnared in that pitfall. With age had come the maturity to understand that nobody’s life was perfect, even if it appeared that way. I kept my issues to myself, and she no doubt did the same. Who was I to say her problems were any less than mine?
“Hey, Sof! Nothing’s up, just wanted to see how you were doing.”
Forever Lies (The Five Families Book 1) Page 5