The Italian - Page 273
“Hello.” I stand, smile, and I kiss her cheek.
Lorenzo kisses her in a greeting, also.
“What do I owe this pleasure?” I ask, trying to act calm.
She clutches her handbag nervously. “I’m being followed.”
I frown. “By who?”
“There’s a man. He’s been following me for three days now.”
“What man?”
She looks around nervously. “I don’t know who he is. I saw him the other day when I came out of my apartment, and now I keep seeing him.”
“Are you sure he’s following you?”
“Positive.”
“Lorenzo, organize some guards for Sophia, please.”
“Of course.” He stands. “Can you describe him for me?”
“He’s outside right now. He’s… he’s downstairs,” she stammers. “Blue suit. White shirt.”
Lorenzo’s eyes meet mine. “Get Sergio and take care of it,” I order.
Lorenzo rushes from the room as Sophia runs her fingers through her hair. She’s visibly upset. “I don’t know what to do. What if I’m next?”
“You’re not.” I take her into my arms and hold her. “It’s all right,” I whisper into her hair. “You’re safe now.”
“I haven’t felt safe since you left me,” she whispers against my neck. I feel her breath on my skin.
She lifts her hand, and the gold bangles that she always wears rattle together.
It’s a familiar sound—one that evokes memories. I feel an unwelcome wave of arousal seep into my body. I instantly release her from my grip and take a step back.
When Sophia fucks, the sound of her bangles hitting together echoes throughout the room. The harder she fucks, the louder the sound.
Fucking her is like a game a child would play to hear the sound—to make it louder. It’s the ultimate aphrodisiac. A goal that drives a man wild. Anytime I hear bangles clang together, I have a physical reaction. I clench my jaw as I try to chase away the memory.
“I miss you,” she whispers.
“Don’t.”
She steps forward and takes my hand to place it over her heart. “How can you push me aside so easily?” Her eyes fill with tears.
“Sophia.” I don’t like seeing her like this.
“I love you, Enrico.”
“Sophia,” I whisper. “You need to understand that I’m with Olivia now.”
“Why do you think it has to be me or her?” Her eyes search mine. “You can have me, too, my darling.”
Our eyes are locked as the air swirls between us.
“You can be married to her and you can love me, too.”
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