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“ . . . I’m never letting you go, Gina. I love you so much.”
One of those thoughts is a lie. I will love Gina for the rest of my fucking life, but the second we rekindle our feelings, I’m done with her. This past week alone has been an eternity of torment. She smeared my name, causing me to lose my job. Once I remind her of what love feels like, Gina Galloway will come face-to-face with pain. My pain. I’m heartbroken. Women always get to play the fucking victim here!
With my thumbs running along her neck, I reach in, kissing her softly on the jaw. I’m peppering kisses all over her face when she growls for me to stop. My mouth clamps over hers, teeth grinding down onto her bottom lip. Once she’s left breathless, I back up a few paces.
“I’m cooking breakfast, your favorite.”
Her gorgeous eyes are boring into my back as I hustle down the stairs. Gina’s contemplating my angle when she initiated the games, too selfish to heed reason.
* * *
An hour later,I’ve made her French toast and my own plain toast, scrambled eggs, and juice.
“Gina, come down.”
A few seconds later, she’s at the handrail. Arms slink across her bare chest, pushing her tits up. My mind films over, until she snaps, “I’m not hungry. Besides, you don’t have enough food to wait me out, and make me fall in love with you . . .”
“Fall in love with meagain!” I glare up at her.
“Again, my ass! What we had was raw lust, Santino.” Her gaze slides away from mine, then dances back over. “Really, like I said. Not enough food.”
My jaw stiffens as my past week comes to mind. What the fuck was worse, waiting for the health results or my boss firing me for dealing drugs? I scoff, “I’ll go kill thatdrugged-outfriend of yours!”
“What friend?”
“The possum.” I stop myself from slamming a hand on the table. “That fat-ass possum. How about this, Bella. You don’t come down here in five seconds, I’ll go get that possum or one of his friends. This time might be a rat.”
“Try—okay!”
I stop walking. Gina’s tiny hand grazes the railing as she meanders down the steps. Every minor gesture provokes a memory: her fingers sliding up and down my cock, her palms splayed over my chest.
“Which is the French toast, and which is the toast,toast?” She snorts, sitting down.
“That one. I only had regular sugar.”
She slides the plate intended for her to my side, taking mine instead. Shrugging, Gina gives me a pointed look. “Could bedrugged.”
My eyelid twitches. “I have never fucking taken drugs in my entire life.”
“You initiated that topic.” She bites the scrambled eggs. “Mmmm. You’re a protein man, Santa. Without a recipe, this is all youwillmake me. Eggs and meat. Do we have a steak? God, I’d die for a Scotch fillet . . . ahem.”
While her primadonna rant shifts into pure desire, I wait. I roll my eyes. “What, you momentarily forgot how unforgiving you can be?”
Gina sets the plate aside, mumbling how she’s eaten her fill this past week. I haven’t enjoyed a single taste of food.
“You call me unforgiving, Santino? You did theunforgivable. Have you called your mom and Antonia?”
“We’re not discussing them. Let’s talk about my mistake. I went to Carlos at the beginning of this month, asked for gigs. Prior to that, I stopped dancing for you.”
“For me? Because I asked you.Pst, I had no idea.”
“Correct.” I bite a piece of toast. “Your head’s in your ass, sweetheart. All I wanted—”
“Your mom needs you.” She reaches for my hand. “What if Ma has an episode while out, Santino? Remember the one time she left when the nurse was in the restroom? Baby, you have to—Ouch!”
I squeeze her fingers. The tips run pink. There are a few things Gina isn’t aware of at the moment. For starters, I’m wanted forherabduction. Aside from that, nothing matters.
“We’re talking about us! Gina, I wanted to marry you.”
