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Thankfully, none of the scenarios I imagined occur. At least not immediately.
Juniper almost knocks both of us over when we enter the room. Etta laughs and the sound is pure, unfiltered joy. It burrows into my bonesand my brain, pushing the doubt and the worry back into its box. If it existed in bottle form, I would drink it down by the gallon.
It’s strange to have a woman laughing in my space. Stranger still for it to be the woman who I swore I would never get involved in. The woman I was positive I could never fall for.
I repressed and ignored the fact that Etta was beautiful in the early days of her stay. My fury at the Lombardo blood in her veins clouded my vision.
But now that it’s gone. Every time I see her, I can’t help but want her. Fiercely.
Her full lips and long lashes. The way her hair falls like curtains along her jaw drawing attention to her sleek brows and blue eyes. The curve of her backside and the way her teeth sparkle when she laughs. And her smile. Fucking hell. I don’t deserve to even see it. But every time she does, I can’t help but stare, tracing the lines of her body, imagining what she would look like naked and bent over a desk.
Well, I don’t have to imagine too much anymore.
My body, my mind, hasn’t been this satisfied in a long, long time.
Etta is everywhere. In my space, my head and my chest, tattooing her name against my ribcage with her nails as the needles and her blood as the ink.
I never thought it possible to feel anything close to what I felt for Gen.
But this woman—who fought me, opened for me, clung to me and fucked me like she was starving for me—she’s silencing the doubt and the guilt I’ve held onto for so long, making me experience things I had resigned to feeling in another life. She’s the last person on earth who should be wanting my touch, my comfort, my heart, and yet, she’s earning it. No, she’s stealing it. And I don’t want her to stop even if the dangers are immense.
My actions pulled us apart nearly decade ago and now fate has brought us back together. And as much as my cynical brain wants to deny it, it must mean something.
“I’m starving,” Etta groans, reaching for the room service menu. She runs her fingers down the list, biting her lip. The plump flesh, the quick flick of her tongue, makes my cock spring back to life.
Yeah, I’m fucked.
“I’ll order everything,” I say. “Why don’t you get cleaned up?”
“Okay.” She rubs Juniper’s fur until it’s flying all over the suite floor and then heads for the bathroom, her dress shimmering like a disco ball.
The shower starts running as I call the front desk and order every single thing they have. As soon as the call ends, my phone vibrates with an incoming text.
Ford:All cleaned up. Italian police are taking care of it. No connection.
My grip tightens around the phone.
God, it felt good to beat the shit out of them. Cathartic, in a way. If Etta hadn’t been watching, I might have snapped their necks.
Dom:PlayHouse sent me the footage. I’ve had it wiped.
Ford:How’s Etta?
I made her come so hard shesoaked my lap.
Odin: She’s shaken, but she’ll be okay. No injury. Getting cleaned up now.
Dom:I think tomorrow should be a day of rest.
Ford:Agreed. I need a nap and a foot massage. Who has the strongest hands out of you two?
Odin:I’ll leave that to your imagination.
Ford:I KNOW IT’S YOU!
The smirk that comes to my face when Etta exits the bedroom comes easily and without strain. She’s never been more beautiful than she is now, with her flushed skin, wet hair and sparkling blue eyes.
A knock sounds at the door. I double check its room service before letting them in. Naturally, I stand in front of Etta, blocking their view of her as they bring in the food. I can’t be too careful. Not now.
