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“Stop! Don’t.” I was breathless as he recited the tragedies of my past.
“Don’t what?”
“Don't make me even more afraid of you.”
Renato’s eyes sharpened on me, like he was pouncing on a weakness. “Are you really afraid of me, Charlotte? The things you say to me, the way you act…it doesn’t match that sentiment.”
“And what makes you think that? You won’t be my husband, you’ll only ever be my jailer—”
“If I was your jailer, I’d have you tied to the wall in the basement. I’m not a merciful man. Nothing about what’s between us is normal – not for me, and I’ll bet not for you, either. You can’t pretend that you don’t feel it forever, little nurse. I won’t let you.”
I crossed my arms over my wet top. “I would have to be crazy not to be scared, wouldn’t I?” My tone was so uncertain.
“Are you asking me or telling me?” Renato asked, smoothing a hand through his wet hair, watching me from the water.
“I-I have to get to bed. I should never have come down here. I didn’t mean to run into you,” I said, wringing out my hair and nervously looking around, panic beating at me from within.
“I checked for you in your room before I came here, so you had no choice but to run into me,” Renato said quietly.
“Why?” I asked, cotton-mouthed.
“Because I can’t seem to stay away.”
Those words only sent my leaping pulse higher. Why was his soft confession making my heart pound so hard? He was staring at me like I was someone important to him.
Someone special.
No one had ever looked at me that way.
Then I remembered the bug in the envelope upstairs. He wouldn’t look at me that way if he knew what I was planning on doing.
“You should let us go. Just let us go. It’s the best outcome for everyone,” I muttered, my energy deserting me all at once. I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open.
My rising emotions fizzled out flatly, the excitement in my veins from my first orgasm at someone else’s hand dying abruptly.
I didn’t stay to listen to another word. I turned on my heel and hurried back to my room, not daring to look back even once.
17
RENATO
“The details on the car accident with Paolo,” Elio said, bright and early the next morning.
I’d spent the night reliving the moment in the pool. Specifically, the exact moment Charlotte had come in my arms, her pussy rubbing relentlessly over my cock, while I stood and did my best to hold on to my flagging self-control. In that moment, I’d wanted to sit her on the edge of the pool and eat her sweet pussy for hours. Teach her all about proper fucking before getting out and ravaging her right there on the wet tile. An animal tearing at an angel, marking her as his.
Instead, I’d let the desire simmer and sink into my soul. I didn’t even jerk off, even though I was desperately hard and my balls were so full they ached.
When Charlotte gazed up at me with her beguiling eyes and moaned my name, I’d decided right then that I’d wait for my wife’s touch. The next time I came, it would be wrapped up in a body part of hers, whether it be her hand, mouth, cunt or ass. I would accept nothing less.
I studied the black-and-white CCTV shots that Elio had pulled. He then placed a tablet in front of me and hit play. Paolo’s car came into sight. He headed in the direction of Casa Nera.
Out of nowhere, a car appeared from the left and slammed into him.
Both cars spun with the impact. After a moment, Paolo’s car door opened, and he fell out. He hauled himself to his feet and fired a shot at a couple of dark shadows I couldn’t make out, lingering beside the other busted wreck. One shadow fell, and the one left standing dragged it off the screen. Then came the sound of screeching wheels. Another vehicle.
“They took their man,” Elio said emotionlessly.
“And left mine to die, alone on the street like roadkill,” I muttered darkly. The sooner I stamped out the Castillos, the better. I’d allowed them too much grace, hoping they’d understand how stupid it was to continue their business under my nose, in my town, but it looked like they were too dumb for that.
