She lifts her gaze to meet mine, releasing her lips. “You think I would be so cold that I would leave our bed, on our wedding night, and go to another woman?”
Her eyes search mine and it’s clear that she does think I could be that cold. It’s perfectly clear in this moment that we know absolutely fucking nothing about one another.
She doesn’t know shit about me, about my past and my life and all I know is that her father was a Made Man who was whacked, her sister was sold into a life of whoring, and her mother was whacked for selling off her sister.
Shaking my head, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends slightly. “I wouldn’t do that, dolcezza. I had business that I had to take care of, nothing more, nothing less. It was unavoidable.”
“Okay,” she exhales.
“Okay?” I ask.
She sits up and nods once. “Yes, okay. I believe you. I just wish you would have told me, that’s all.”
My lips turn up into a small smile. Slipping off my gun holster, I don’t miss the way her eyes watch the movement closely. Next, I take off the rest of my clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the lounger. Pippa gasps when I sink down into the hot tub completely naked.
Reaching for her, I pull her into my lap, wrapping my arms around her. One is around her waist, the other around her hips. Burying my face in her neck, I inhale her scent, closing my eyes before I let out a long exhale. I’m fucking exhausted.
“I’ll order you some breakfast when you’re ready to get out of here,” I whisper against her skin.
“I’m fine.”
I hum against her skin, my tongue tasting her neck. “You’re too skinny. You need to eat.”
She lifts her hand and places her palm against my arm, giving me a light shove. Lifting my head, I frown up at her. Arching a brow, I wait for her to say something. She shakes her head, her lips turned down into a small frown.
“I’m not too skinny,” she breathes.
Sliding my hand from her waist, up the center of her back, I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck. Gently, I tug her face down so that I can kiss her. Touching my mouth to hers, I taste her lips before I release her, but I keep her close to me.
“You’re too skinny, dolcezza. I like curves, and I gotta say the potential yours have makes me ache to see what they could be if you enjoyed some pasta and tiramisu every now and then, maybe a cannoli, perhaps a sfogliatelle?”
“Sfogliatelle?” she breathes.
“You like that?”
She hums, her lips brushing mine. “Love it,” she sighs against my mouth.
Gripping the back of her neck tighter, I growl, my cock stiffening against her hip. I know her cunt has to hurt. I wasn’t as gentle as I should have been last night. Granted, I wasn’t as rough as I could have been, but I definitely could have handled her with a bit more finesse.
“I’ll buy you a dozen to make up for leaving you last night,” I say, grinning against her lips.
She pulls back slightly and shakes her head a little. “Please, don’t.” She laughs softly.
“Buy you whatever you want, dolcezza.”
Her smile dies immediately and she pushes against me, trying to get away. My grip against her hip and neck tighten, keeping her right where I want her, right where she belongs.
“The fuck, Pippa?” I snap.
Pippa’s brows snap together and her blue eyes meet mine. They’re full of fire, swimming with piss and vinegar. I don’t ask her again, I wait for her to tell me what the fuck is going on.
I’m thankful that our small stare down doesn’t last long before she finally breaks, shifting her eyes to the side before she brings them back to meet my own.
“You can’t fix everything with money. I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it.”
“Yeah? You sure about that? Got a whole new wardrobe, spent a fuckin’ mint on the wedding, on that dress. Dropping twelve grand a night on this room to give you a nice couple of days and you haven’t bitched about this place. So, are you fucking sure?”
“That’s not fair. I had no choice in the room, I would have picked a cheaper dress, the girls didn’t even tell me how much it was. They just talked to the owner without me. I never wanted all this flash, Massimo. I’ve never wanted a Made Man because I didn’t want to be thrown money and treated like shit.”
“Yet here you fucking are. You came to Arlo because you were goddamn homeless. You need money, everyone needs money. Don’t act like you’re above a goddamn thing, Pippa.”
She tries to jerk away from me again, but I don’t allow it. She’s got to fucking learn that I’m the one in charge here. She can have her little tantrum, but she doesn’t get to pull away from me while doing it. She’ll be right here in my lap, because when it’s over I’m going to fuck her—every time.
“That’s not fair. Of course, everyone needs money, but I don’t want it in abundance, and I don’t want it in lieu of a real relationship. I don’t want it to assuage your guilt.”
“My guilt? What do I have to feel guilty about? What are you accusing me of?”
She presses her lips together, dropping her gaze before she flicks her eyes back up to meet mine. “I don’t know, what do you have to feel guilty about?” she asks.
I shake my head once, my lips twitching before I let out a bark of sarcastic laughter. “Not a goddamn thing, Pippa. Not a goddamn thing.”
Pulling her resisting face toward mine, I tilt my head to the side and crash my mouth against hers. She presses her lips together, my tongue slides across the seam of her lips, tasting her.
Moving my hand from her hip, I tweak her nipple. She opens her mouth in a gasp and that’s when I slip my tongue inside of her, tasting her. Almost immediately she melts toward me and that’s when I know that she’s not mad, she just doesn’t quite know how to feel.
This is new, for her and for me. We will find our way and right now, she’s trying to decide how she’s going to be married to a Made Man when she made her mind up about us a long time ago. She’s determined to hate us all, but I guarantee, as she arches her back closer toward me, whimpering in my mouth, that feeling is going to fade faster than she realizes.
PIPPA
Massimo and I spend the rest of the day being absolutely lazy. I can’t shake the feeling and thoughts from the back of my mind that he was out doing something yesterday that would hurt me.
The facts are, we don’t know each other. I don’t know if he has a woman other than me. I don’t even know his parents. I don’t know shit. My mind spins all day long. We eat breakfast together, Massimo takes a nap. We eat lunch together, then relax poolside, and now it’s dinnertime.
I’m still wearing my bikini, only throwing a sheer gold cover-up over the top. “I’m going to order up some dinner,” Massimo calls out.
I’m in the kitchen, the fridge open and reaching for a bottle of water. Taking it out, I close the fridge and turn to face him. He’s standing on the other side of the bar, his head tipped down as he looks at the binder that the hotel has left for us.
“Okay,” I murmur, twisting the top off of my water before I lift the bottle to my lips.