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I couldn’t read whether she wanted to taunt me or just be nosey as shit.
“I’m not discussing it with you.”
“Is that why you turned me down? Because I don’t have a sister?”
That was just stupid talk, right there. The list of reasons why I shouldn’t have ever touched or even looked in her direction was too damn long to go through it right now.
“No, Catherinelle, and you know it.”
She kept talking my ear off while we were surfing through the red brick building in Queens. Catherinelle kept asking about the women that went through my bed. Little curious thing she was, but I couldn’t give her all the answers. I didn’t have it in me to open up to her or anybody. I wasn’t brought up to talk about my fucking feelings. I didn’t trust easy, and I didn’t do my talking with words. I did it with my fists or my dick. I was half man, half animal, and she was looking for a soft spot that just wasn’t there.
I felt at ease because she had moved on from the discussion about Umberto because I didn’t want to be the one to throw more shit on her dead father. That was a discussion she had to have with her brother.
When we finally arrived in Brooklyn at the Nucci house, I pulled right in front of the gate and told Cat to wait in the car for me to open her door.
“When did you turn into a gentleman? You’ve never opened a door for me before.” No, I hadn’t. I was not her doorman.
“You have no underwear.” Because I ripped it to shreds. “I wanted to cover you when you get down.”
She looked up at me and raised an eyebrow, challenging me unapologetically. She put one leg out of the car, purposefully opening up, and my eyes were suddenly pinned in between her thighs. We both knew there were men all over the street, and a lot of eyes were glued to the car, so anyone could see her. She was doing this just to fuck with me. I gripped the door, and I bent to cover her front entirely and growled like a hungry bear. I had no idea if that sound was coming from my annoyance or my desire to possess her right there in the middle of the street.
It took her an eternity to get out and walk towards the house, but she stopped and looked at me over her shoulder.
“Thank you for your assistance, Mustafa.”
This girl was playing me like I was a fiddle and she was a red-headed Irishwoman. Us, whatever the fuck us was, was dangerous enough without all the shenanigans. Her game only added to the danger, but fuck if I wasn’t addicted. She pulled, and I jerked towards her when I should have known better. I was supposed to be her protector, and in the end, I’d be the one to cause our fall from grace.
