I close my eyes as he slams on the brakes for a red light. Enzo laughs. “Now you know why I sit in the backseat. He is telling the truth, he’s never been in a wreck before. However, he drives what amounts to two days out of an entire month, so there’s that to consider. Keep your eyes closed, it’s helps.”
“Why aren’t you driving?” I groan as the seat belt tightens for another hard stop.
“I have a Bugatti, it won’t seat more than two.”
“Thank god I haven’t eaten in a few hours. I’d probably throw up.”
“Quit bitching. I’m not bad,” Dante mutters.
My eyes are squeezed closed. I don’t know where the honk comes from, I’m not opening my eyes. “Right, it’s perfectly normal to get honked at four times in ten minutes. It’s probably because you’re so hot they want your number.”
Tires squeal as a turn takes the car up on a curb. Ouch. The seat belt cuts into my shoulder. Another hard stop. “Fine. You drive.”
I’m sitting stunned as Dante gets out of the car, slamming his door before rounding the car to my side. He opens my door. “Come on, you think you can drive better, prove it.”
I yank my head to Enzo, my eyes wide in question. Enzo nods. “Go for it.”
Releasing my seat belt, I put my hand in Dante’s. Electricity runs in a pulsing current through me as he pulls me up. Our eyes meet, and my whole body goes hot. I’m barely aware of moving. His hand squeezes mine gently before he lets it go. For a moment I’m lost without his touch until lightly his hand wraps around my arm, then presses me down; only now do I realize I’m at the open door of the driver’s seat. Enzo sneezes, and I remember we aren’t alone. My body still humming from his touch, I get in and put my seat belt on as Dante closes the door.
It takes a minute to adjust the seat and mirrors. When I check the rearview mirror, I catch Enzo’s eye; he winks at me and smiles. I straighten my back, then put the car into gear. A glance down the street shows me it’s clear, so I ease into traffic. Woah, the car reacts instantly as I accelerate. I understand why Dante had a hard time staying under the speed limit, it’s like we’re gliding along on glass.
“From now on Bethany drives everywhere.”
“Shut up,” Dante mutters out the window. “I’m a good driver, you two are pussies.”
I giggle then glance at Enzo. “You guys aren’t used to anyone telling you that you aren’t the best at something, are you?”
Enzo shrugs. “It’s because it’s rare we aren’t the best at something.”
Laughing, I nod. “Okay.”
Dante remarks on a building for sale. For the rest of the drive they talk business. A few times they try to include me, but I shake my head—I need to concentrate on the road. Their deep voices fill the car. It’s soothing until a few times when they get loud, then seconds later they are laughing. It really is an Italian thing.
***
Dante
I’m trying to focus on what Enzo is saying, only it isn’t easy with Bethany close enough to touch. More times than I can count my eyes wander over her. Her gorgeous body covered only in a thin white bra and white silky panties is burned into the back of my eyelids. Every time I blink, I see her and my whole body aches with need. All I wanted to do was throw her over my shoulder, take her ass to bed and spend hours buried deep inside her.
Christ, I barely recognize the animal she makes me every time she gets close to me. It doesn’t help when I see her reaction, smell her pussy flood when my hunger drives me to do shit I never would with any other woman. No other woman has had the effect on me Bethany does; no woman has made my whole body tighten with need at the mere thought of her; no other woman has felt so good against me I never want to let her go. For those reasons alone I should stay the fuck away from her. She’s too young—she has so much more she needs to experience before getting locked down the way I would demand once I tasted her.
She sighs, and the small sound draws my eyes to her again. Enzo says my name again, shit. “Sorry, my phone is buzzing in my pocket. Hold up.” I take out my phone and check my email. Nothing interesting. “What were you saying?”
Enzo nods before asking whether I was serious about trading in my boat. I shrug. “Maybe, it’s over two years old now. Or maybe do some upgrades on it.”
“Is this the four-hundred-foot yacht Alicia and Cesare got married on? You want to trade it in even though it’s only two years old?” Bethany’s voice goes up an octave as she stresses
two years old.
She turns into the driveway. “I’m thinking about it. I’m not sure if I will or not.”
Matteo comes tearing out of the house, heading right for me. “Dede!” he squeals before he launches himself at me. I catch him and swing him up in the air. He giggles in delight. I love this kid—he’s nuts, loud, fearless, and hilarious. He’s definitely a Sabatini.
I follow Alicia and Bethany into the house. Che is prepping the steaks for the grill. He nods. “Is the CCTV messed up or did Bethany drive up here?”
“Yes, thank god. No liquor for her, she’s driving us back,” Enzo answers.
“I’m a good driver, damn it. You people are pussies.”