Twisted Hearts (The Camorra Chronicles 5)

Once upstairs, I helped her toward my bathroom. I handed her a pair of my sweatpants and the smallest shirt I owned. “Can you shower?”

She nodded but still didn’t say anything.

I left the door ajar when I returned to the bedroom to hear if she passed out, then I sank down on the bed. For a moment, I stared blankly in the direction of the bathroom, then I fell back, closing my eyes. My pulse was still too fast and the tight sensation in my chest was only slowly lifting.

Gemma emerged fifteen minutes later. My sweatpants hung low on her hips and my white-tee showed off the fact that Gemma wasn’t wearing a bra. I tore my eyes away from her chest and returned my gaze to the ceiling.

She surprised me by crawling into bed with me. She looked small and scared. Slowly, I rolled over until I was facing her.

“What’s going to happen now?”

First, I was going to dismember the Russian, then I’d burn the remaining Bratva fuckers out of their hole-ups in our territory.

That wasn’t something I could share with Gemma, though, and it wasn’t really what she’d been asking.

“Diego’s working hard, but he can’t rebuild the restaurant, manage the Capri and earn enough money as an Enforcer to pay for Carlotta’s bills.”

“Gem,” I said quietly. “My brothers and I own the West. We have more money than we can ever spend. Your family sure as hell won’t run out of money. No matter how much money you need, I’ll give it to you.”

The look in her eyes was like a punch in the stomach. “What do you want in return?”

“Fuck,” I breathed. “You think I’d want you to sleep with me, so I’ll help your family and baby sister?”

She only looked at me with those forlorn olive eyes. I moved a bit closer. “I’m not that much of an asshole, Gem. I’d never do that,” I said fiercely.

She let out a teary laugh. The sound inexplicably tore at me. “You aren’t?”

“Fuck. I deserve that, don’t I? I was an asshole, I’ll admit it.”

“Yes, you were.” She leaned in, bringing us closer, drawing in a deep breath. “Does that mean you won’t be an asshole anymore?”

I nuzzled her neck without thinking about it. I just wanted, needed to be close to her. Less than an hour ago, I’d thought she was dead, and that had gutted me like nothing ever had before. “A tricky question. Assholery is in my DNA and has a penchant of coming out in unfortunate moments. It’s the infamous foot in mouth disease I suffer from.”

Gemma laughed, almost a happy sound. She slid even closer and lifted her face. I could feel her warmth, smell her sweet breath, and the shea butter she always used to moisturize. A very dangerous, very tempting position. And fuck the look on Gemma’s face was gasoline for the fucking fire of my desire for her.

She was sad and scared, and wanted distraction. And fuck, my specialty was distracting girls, give them a good time, make them forget their boyfriends, responsibilities and even annoyance with me. But this was Gemma.

“You hurt me,” she breathed.

“I won’t hurt you like that ever again.”

It was a promise I’d do my fucking best to keep.

She snuggled closer, her fingers splaying out on my hip, her olive eyes wide and hopeful, those kissable lips parted. “I want to forget.”

“Gem, don’t rely on me doing the honorable thing. My moral compass is out of whack, especially with your gorgeous body pressed up to mine.”

It wasn’t even desire that made me want to act on her offer. I just wanted to be with her. Fuck, this was new.

“Kiss me. I want to feel something else than this pain.” She shuddered. “Please, Savio, make me forget.”

Screw it. Who was I to deny her? Cupping her face, I kissed her lightly, fully determined to leave it at a chaste kiss, but Gemma’s scent and the warmth radiating from her was too much for my non-existent self-control. My tongue stroked along her lips, tasting the saltiness of tears, and something sweeter. Unable to resist, I parted her and dipped my tongue into her mouth.

Fuck, even the hints of saltiness didn’t change the fact that she tasted like perfection. Like a goddamn salted caramel toffee. I wanted to devour her whole. My tongue dove in, tasted every corner of that perfect mouth, teased her tongue until she played along. Her fingers dug into my hip and neck, pulling me closer.

I rolled on top of her, settling between her legs, giving her what she wanted. For a moment, she stilled, but then she kissed me even harder.

I slid my hand lower and hooked it under her thigh, lifting one leg over my back so I could bring us even closer, every inch of our bodies flush together. The moment I did, Gemma’s kiss became hesitant, her body tenser, and my senses started returning.