“Antonio,” I whisper.
He lifts his head, his dark, lust-filled eyes meeting mine. Unhooking the button to my jeans, he pulls down the zipper and then tugs my jeans and panties down my hips.
Oh god.
My mind goes blank. I forget everything and arch into him when his fingers touch me where no one ever has.
“Wet,” he rumbles, sliding his fingers through my folds. My body locks as he starts to slide one finger inside of me.
“I’m a virgin,” I whisper.
I watch in horror as his whole body gets tight. His eyes close down right before mine.
“What?” He pushes off the couch quickly. Standing, he looks down at me, his chest and abs heaving with each deep breath he takes.
“I . . . oh god.” I cover my face with my hands, wishing I could disappear. “I’m sorry . . . I . . .”
“Jesus,” he says softly. I pull my hands from my face and sit up, dragging my jeans back up over my hips. Tears start to fill my eyes when he turns his back on me and lifts his hands to his hair, tugging it. “Fuck me. What the fuck was I thinking?”
What was he thinking? Oh god.
Humiliated, I look around. I pick up the first shirt I see, then I toss it away like it’s on fire when I see that it’s his. I find mine and pull it down over my head. I stand and look around for my stuff. I put on my coat and grab my bag, then move as quickly as I can to the door. I don’t look back. I don’t stop to talk to him. I get out of there, running on my heels as fast as my legs will take me. When I get to the door, I fumble with the lock and whimper in distress when I can’t get it open.
I feel Antonio get close, and I back up three steps when he reaches out for me.
“Libby.”
“Don’t.” I keep my eyes from his, locking them on the floor near his feet. “Please don’t. Please just open the door so I can go,” I whisper as tears start to roll down my cheeks.
“Princess,” he says softly, reaching out toward me again. I take another hasty step back.
“Don’t.” I look up at him, and he flinches. “Don’t.”
“I’ll walk you home.”
“I don’t need you to walk me home.”
“Honey, let me get my coat. Let me walk you home. We can talk.”
“Open the door!” I scream, knowing I look insane but not caring at all. I’m so embarrassed, so humiliated. I need to get out of here now. “Please open the door so I can just go.” I drop my eyes and see him move, then I hear the door open.
Careful not to touch him, I leave the restaurant. When I make it home, I stand in the foyer, breathing heavily, before rushing upstairs to my apartment. I pour a glass of wine to settle my nerves, then take it with me to the bathroom. I fill up the tub and get in, hoping to forget that tonight ever happened.
Chapter 5
CHALLENGE
ANTONIO
Leaning back in my dad’s old office chair in front of his worn wooden desk, I look around at the pictures and newspaper clippings framed on the walls. I loved this place when I was a little kid, but once I started growing up, I began to resent it. I used to hate spending my days after school right here, in this chair, doing my homework. I hated that I couldn’t go home after school like a normal kid or have dinner at home with my parents like all the other kids I knew did. As the years went on and my dad started to age, my resentment toward this place only got stronger. I could see the effect the pizzeria was having on my dad. He was too stubborn to hire more people to help him out. I guess I won’t have to worry about that anymore since it’s now going to be sold to someone else and will be someone else’s problem to deal with.
Fuck . . .
As relieved as I am to know I won’t have to watch this place slowly kill my dad, I am still going to miss it. It’s a part of me. It’s a part of almost every memory I have.
Rubbing my hand down my scruffy jaw, my eyes land on the couch against the wall. I flinch. Yeah, there are a lot of memories in this place—some better than others.
Libby . . .
Libby, the sexiest woman I have ever met in my life, is a virgin. When that information came out of her mouth, I swear to god my mind screamed, Mine! It freaked me the hell out. I’ve wanted her from the moment we met, but I thought I could never go there, not with her. I know women like her. I was in love with a woman just like her. One who needed the best of everything. One who wanted things I couldn’t give her—including a life I didn’t want for myself. When she ended things between us, she told me my dreams weren’t her dreams, that she couldn’t be happy with the life I could provide for us, that she wanted more. She had begged me to take over the shop from my dad when she overheard him and me talking about it. She wanted me to start a franchise, to build the family business so that I could give her a house in the city and an endless amount of money to buy whatever designer shit she thought she needed. I never wanted to run the shop. I wanted to be a firefighter. I wanted to help protect the city I love. I found out a few weeks after we broke up that she had been seeing some hotshot lawyer on the side, a man who had the kind of money to give her the life she wanted. Unfortunately for her, the guy was already married and wasn’t at all interested in divorcing his wife for his sidepiece. In my opinion, she got what was coming to her.