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26
The second day of the New Year, I was spread on my stomach on Hugo’s bed, wearing a lace thong and one of the workout t-shirts that had become mine by default. The satin dress I had on was in a pool on the floor, ripped clear in half. The moment we walked through the door, he pinned me to one of the pillars in the middle of his loft and took me with longing rooted in our time spent apart. He screwed my brains out, and I was grateful for it. I had needed the release before bombing him with my fears.
We weren’t supposed to meet today, but he came by the house to talk to Gino, and I grasped at the opportunity. I told them I was sleeping at Bianca’s house and asked Hugo to drive me. I didn’t have to tell him to change the course to his apartment; he must have seen the signs on my body. The entire ride here, my knees were pressed together, and I couldn’t find my place in my seat. There was a line of tension inside me, stretching more and more with every second, but now, all of that was gone. For the first time in days, I was content. Feeling his pure, vital force under my palm, the strength of his body, made me feel safe, and I knew he’d take care of me no matter what. I was in trouble, but I wasn’t alone. The man I loved was a force of nature, and I had nothing to fear.
Hugo went to the door to get the food he had ordered from a restaurant near his place while I stretched my sore muscles, looking out at the dark Hudson River. I liked the view from here, especially when the sun went down, and the water turned into liquid tar and sparkled under the moonlight.
“Baby girl.” His gruff words pulled me back to reality. “You seem distracted.”
“You could say that. We need to talk, Hugo.”
“You also need to eat. There’s no good Italian here, but I got us some lobster with French lemon butter. I know you like it.”
He wasn’t wrong. I could eat lobster all day, every day. My mouth watered when he pulled out two containers with lobster, cutlery, a sliced baguette, sliced lemon and containers of the lemon butter drizzle. He had made an effort for me, ordering something fancy from a French restaurant, but I would have been ok with lobster rolls or McDonald’s.
“What do you want to talk about, Catherinelle?”
“First, what happened at the New Year’s party?”
He looked at me genuinely confused while poring white wine into two glasses.
“Huh?”
“Gino told me you were out there trying to get laid.”
He sipped his drink and chuckled.
“Did he, now?”
“Yes. I told him I’d like to come with him to the party, and he said I couldn’t because you were not available for guard duty.” I paused and glared. “Because you were trying to fuck some woman.”
“Jealous, princess?”
I smacked him in the chest.
“Yes! I just want every one of them to know you’re mine and stay the hell away.”
He reached for me and touched my face with his rough palm.
“Ask me if I fucked anyone, princess.”
“I know you didn’t. It just pissed me off that a woman was coming on to you, and I couldn’t even get there. It put me in a bad space.” Especially because I was freaking out that I might – probably – be carrying his child.
“I didn’t even look at her, Cat. She’s a waitress and a courier sometimes, Melanie. I fucked her before, and she tried to peak my interest all night. Her boobs were in my face, and her hands were on my thighs.” Why the hell was he telling me this? “My dick didn’t even flinch. I was stupid drunk and with blue balls, but it didn’t matter. You have ruined me, Catherinelle Nucci. I’m all yours. You might as well cut off my dick and carry it in your purse.”
Hugo telling me he was mine did a number on me. My heart was ready to jump out and hide in his chest.
“Let one of your whores touch your thighs again, and I might do just that.”
“Possessive little thing.”
“Yes,” I purred. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
I’d been dragging it out for too long.
“Eat first. I exhausted you.”
I guessed it could wait for a few more minutes.
