Page 82 of Valentino

“Don’t….”

“I told you not to speak for the whole fucking night, including to me,” I whisper. “Now get out there and act casual.”

“I am casual,” he whispers. “You’re the only one around here not being casual.”

“If you were actually my boyfriend right now I’d totally dump you.”

“Yeah, well.” He huffs. “If I was your boyfriend right now I’d be putting Georgie boy in the hospital.” He’s openly fuming. “Tell me I won’t last long, I’ll see who doesn’t last long. Fucking loser.”

My cousin walks into the kitchen and we both guiltily step back from each other. “Val, this is my cousin, Aurora. This is Valentino.”

“Hello.” She smiles. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” He nods and I can almost feel the words about to explode through his lips.

“Just getting a drink.” I pull Val by the hand over to the refrigerator and tear the door open. “Don’t say it,” I whisper.

“She has terrible taste in men.” He looks over his shoulder at her.

“Like I can talk.”

“I don’t know, your new boyfriend is clearly a winner.” He raises an eyebrow.

I hand him a beer. “That’s debatable.”

“Maybe I should teach you some manners.” He gives me the best come-fuck-me look of all time.

I narrow my eyes at him, my day has been so stressful that I forgot all about yesterday’s activities, but when he looks at me like that, suddenly I remember every throbbing detail.

“Listen to me, annoying man,” I whisper. “Do not look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me.”

“Who says that I don’t.”

“Valentino,” I spit. “We aren’t like that anymore.”

“For the record we were never like that.” He takes a swig of his beer, “You’re a terrible actress by the way.”

“Maybe you’re a terrible fake boyfriend because I am a great freaking actress.” I widen my eyes. “Ask anyone.”

“Must be all the orgasms you’ve been faking.” He saunters off across the kitchen, and I watch him disappear into the back garden.

Faking orgasms, something about that tickles my fancy and I find myself smirking as I sip my wine.

How did he know?

Dinner is in full swing; everyone is having a great time. Valentino has been chatting and laughing and being so accommodating to anyone wanting to talk to him. Some of these stories he’s been telling everyone about us seem too good to be true.

That’s because they are.

“Why don’t you show me your bedroom?” he asks.

“You want to see my bedroom?”

“Uh-huh.” A trace of a smile crosses his face as he takes my hand in his. “Show me your bedroom,” he whispers seductively.