chiara
Music thumped through the speakers in Alice’s living room.
I picked up the bottle of sambuca and took another gulp. “Fuck Tommy.”
I hated that man more and more every damn day. I was beginning to think that letting him go around cheating on me wasn’t even worth the fucking torture I’d endured. I should’ve killed him already and gotten it over with, but Dad would’ve minded. That fucking bastard was becoming Dad’s right-hand man.
From across the room, I spotted Alessandro. Dim red and white lights lit up his striking features. I took another long sip to drown out the pain shooting up my leg and to … stop thinking about the bastard who didn’t know the first thing about being part of a family. He sipped a glass and walked through the party, gaze drifting around the room as if he was looking for someone.
When his eyes landed on me, he turned my way and smirked.
“You have a free pass tonight.” Alice nudged my shoulder, holding a blunt between her fingers, and directed her attention to Alessandro. “Courtesy of Tommy, who is currently out, fucking that whore.”
One of the family things grabbed Alessandro’s hand and tried pulling him on to the makeshift dance floor, but he walked past her and continued in my direction. I took another sip of the sambuca, addicted to how smoothly it went down and how much more appealing Alessandro was looking tonight because of it. Alice held out the blunt for me, but I shook my head.
Even from across the room of sticky and sweaty bodies, I could smell his licorice cologne—or maybe that was the alcohol. He was coming to me like he had last night.
I closed my eyes for the shortest moment. God, I needed a damn release. I needed more of him.
“My guard won’t leave me alone,” I said, nodding to Matteo standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained on me, and he hadn’t torn his gaze away once tonight. “He’s one of Tommy’s friends.”
Alice waved her hand in the air. “I’ll take care of him.” She pushed through the bodies and wrapped her arm around Matteo’s bicep, flirting heavily with him.
And as soon as he looked away, I stumbled toward Alessandro, bumping into the couch, and he steadied me with a hand.
“Feeling all right, reginetta?”
“Feel like dancing, stronzo?” I grabbed his hand and stepped to him, the alcohol making me woozy.
He grasped my hips and drew me close—closer than I’d thought he would. Alessandro might be one of the most dangerous men I knew, but at least he wasn’t Tommy. Tommy was an ass.
He rested his forehead against mine and smirked. “You’re not supposed to be drinking on those meds.”
“Care about me?” I asked, tugging on a strand of his hair.
He paused for a moment and didn’t say anything, then smiled. “How’d Tommy take it when he brought you home?” he asked.
“I asked you a question, stronzo. I expect an answer.”
I went to take another sip of the sambuca, but he took it away from me and put it onto a table.
“And I said that you shouldn’t be drinking that shit right now.”
I tilted my head and stared at his lips. God, they looked delicious. I wanted them on every single inch of my body. On my neck, my chest, my pussy. Until I begged him to—
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my head swaying lightly.
He pulled me closer so his hips were grinding into mine. “I came to check on you.”
It was stupid, but I felt like a teenager again. Getting butterflies over the bad boy I knew I shouldn’t have feelings for.
I smiled and inched my face closer, inhaling his cologne. “You do care,” I whispered, my lips fluttering against his.
“I don’t care about you, so don’t get any thoughts in your head, reginetta. All I care about is keeping you safe. That’s all.” He didn’t pull away; he pulled me closer, curling his fingers into my sides.
“Why do you want to keep me safe? Why do you keep helping me?” I asked, nose brushing against his. “Tell me …” I said, desperate to hear those words from someone’s mouth who meant them.
He paused for a long moment and tilted his head closer to mine. “I don’t care about you,” he said, pushing his hands into my hair.
His chest was rising and falling against mine. I pressed my mouth to his, taking the damn chance because sober me wasn’t going to do it.
Almost immediately, Alessandro pulled me closer, his hand tangled in my hair, his full lips on mine, tongue sliding into my mouth. “I don’t give a fuck about you.” He pushed me against the wall, grinding himself against me.
My hands were all over his body, sliding down his chest, disappearing into his pants. He kissed me like he had been starved and that this one little kiss did nothing for him. Like he needed more, as much as he could get.
“Fuck, Chiara, I hate everything about you,” he said.
If this was what hate felt like, I fucking hated this man too.
“We shouldn’t—” I started.
He dipped his head below my ear and sucked the skin softly.
“We should … back … bedroom.” My words came out so incoherently that I could barely understand them myself, but he understood well.
He leaned down, wrapped his arms under my ass, and lifted me into the air, walking down the hallway and into one of Alice’s spare rooms.
He kicked the door closed with his foot and tore off his shirt, lips immediately finding mine again. I backed up until my legs hit the edge of the bed and let him push me down onto it. He collapsed with me, his lips never leaving mine, and ground himself between my legs, letting me feel how hard he was for me already. And, God, I was ready for everything he was going to give me.