“Is it?”
I went over to him and touched his chest. He didn’t soften, not his body or expression. “Come on, don’t be like that. You knew I was promised to Clifford when we started sleeping with each other. It’s not a secret. I thought you preferred the no-strings-attached sex.”
Santino didn’t say anything.
I bit my lip coyly and got down to my knees in front of him. “Let me make it up to you.”
He scowled down at me. “You really think a blow job and sex is going to make everything better? I’m more than my cock.”
My heart clenched. He was so much more to me, but he couldn’t be. “You know Clifford is my fiancé. I can’t very well send him off without spending a bit of time with him after he crossed the Atlantic to be with me.”
Santino gripped my arms and pulled me to my feet. “I need to catch up on sleep.”
Without another word, he walked into his bedroom. We’d spent every night together in the last few weeks but I could sense that I wasn’t welcome in his bed tonight, so I went over to my bedroom.
Maybe it was my memory but I could still smell sex.
I sank down on the bed, feeling torn. Santino and I had only just started sleeping with each other and I could tell it had already changed how we felt about each other. Santino had become possessive and I definitely felt emotionally attached to him. How much worse would it be in a few months from now? Or in a year?
Could we really keep risking it?
My lunch with Clifford was pleasant and surprisingly uneventful. If he noticed the lingering tension between me and Santino, he kept his thoughts to himself. I was glad. I really didn’t want to discuss my complicated relationship with Santino to my fiancé.
Luckily, Clifford had a cousin who studied at Sorbonne and planned to spend the rest of the day with him. Knowing he had other people he wanted to visit in the city made me feel less obligated to spend time with him, which was good because I could only think about Santino anyway.
He had barely spoken to me all morning, treating me like he had in the past.
It bothered me, which in turn made me wonder how it would be once we were forced to return to a solely professional relationship.
On our drive back to the apartment after my lunch with Clifford, I turned to him. “What are we doing, Santino? We’re supposed to have fun. If you’re constantly pissed because I have to interact with Clifford then it’s going to be really tough on the both of us. You know I can’t ignore him. I’m not kissing him or doing anything else.”
“I know,” Santino gritted out.
“Then why are you being so hostile to me?”
“I’m pissed.”
I widened my eyes comically. Did he think I hadn’t noticed?
He sighed, his fingers around the steering wheel turning white from pressure.
“I know you have to talk to him. I know he’s your fiancé and your future. I’m mostly pissed at myself because I didn’t think it would bother me that much. But I really don’t like the idea of sharing you.”
“You aren’t sharing me now.”
“I guess not, but I will eventually.”
“Not really,” I said quietly. “Because once I’m married, we can’t be together anymore.” I realized I no longer thought we’d stop once we were back in Chicago…
“That’s a consolation,” Santino muttered.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the window. Maybe it would be best if we stopped this now.
“I’ll try to get a grip, all right? It’ll be tough but I do my best to ignore Cliffy’s existence.”
I opened my eyes and smiled slightly. “Good, because I don’t want to give up what we have just yet.”
Despite our conversation, our relationship remained strained in the days after my meeting with Clifford. I wanted it to return to how it was.
I missed the banter and the uninhibited sex. Our last intercourse had felt just like that. Polite intercourse.
I leaned in the doorway to Santino’s room as he did push-ups. “You know, Sonny, I would have never pegged you as a pussy who lets emotions ruin a perfectly good sex life.”
I stifled a grin at the look on Santino’s face.
He pushed to his feet, his sweats hanging low on his hips and sweat glistening enticingly on his upper body. “Did you just call me pussy?”
I shrugged with a teasing smile. This felt good, safer.
Santino stalked toward me and I whirled around but before I could dash away, he slung an arm around my waist and slapped my ass hard. I gasped, but he simply lifted me up and carried me over to the bed where he draped me over his lap. Santino’s palm smashed against my ass again—even harder. I jerked with a cry, my shock-widened eyes darting up to Santino’s face. “Are you cra—?”