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I wave my hand in the air. “Security cameras, can’t be too careful who you let into your home.” Natalia stares at me, her blue doe eyes blinking slowly as her sluggish mind tries to process it. “I told you last night, if you need some relief, my dick is only too happy to help out.”
“Never.”
“Never is a long time.”
“I’d rather fuck myself than fuck you, least I know I’d get off,” she spits back at me.
Is she seriously telling me that I haven’t satisfied her? “You told me in Vegas you had never come so much, so please, I know how to fuck and fuck well.” I scoff.
“I was drunk.”
“And what about Paris?” I push.
“Drunk there, too.”
“Seems like you have a drinking problem, Fiorenzo,” I tease.
“No, I don’t. Just need to be drunk to fuck you.” She hisses.
“If that’s what you have to tell yourself, but we all know the truth comes out when you’re drunk, and the truth is you want me.”
She flips me off because she knows I’m right. “Can’t believe you fired your chef,” she says, changing the subject.
“Hell yeah, I did. He was touching you. I told him not to touch you.”
Those sapphire-blue eyes narrow on me. “Maybe I wanted him to touch me.” She smirks.
“You can have as many men as you want touching you once you tell your brothers to drop out of the deal. Until then, you’re mine,” I tell her.
“Fuck you.”
“You’ve said that numerous times now, it’s getting boring.”
“You’re an asshole.” She storms off toward the front door, grabs her bag in the foyer, and walks right out the door.
Fuck, where is she going?
I make chase, she’s digging around in her handbag for her keys, and it takes her a couple of moments to get them as she appears more tipsy than I first realize.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” I yell, snatching the keys from her fingers.
“I don’t want to be near you anymore,” she snarls.
“You’re drunk, Natalia. You can’t drive,” I say, waving the keys in my hand. Those blue eyes land on the keys, then on my pissed-off face as realization dawns on her.
“Fuck,” she curses, dropping her bag and stumbling back a couple of steps. “Fuck … I … I would never,” she cries, shaking her head, staring at her keys dangling from my hand. “Maybe I’m not strong enough,” she says, looking at me as tears fall down her cheeks.
Pocketing the keys, I take a couple of steps forward and cup her face, wiping her tears from her cheeks. “I think you’re strong enough.”
“You’re only saying that because you don’t want to lose your toy.”
There’s an element of truth there, but also, there’s a part of me that wants to see where this goes, this game not the relationship.
“I don’t mind having you around.” She raises a brow at me. “Even if the house isn’t as quiet as it was before you turned up.” This pulls the tiniest of smiles from her.
“And you had a chef and used to win at poker,” she quips, which makes me laugh. She’s not wrong.
“Did you seriously watch me today?” she asks.
