After Arietta left the restaurant tonight, I ordered an Uber to pick up my parents and me. My mom insisted I go up to their apartment, so I went. As soon as I was inside, my dad shoved a book in my hands with a tattered dust jacket.
Ruins of Roses.
It was written a century ago by an author I’ve never heard of. The print run was small, but my father searched and searched for a copy for years. His interest in the story was stoked by a lone review he read online that coined the work ‘a stunningly overlooked piece of rare literary beauty in the form of a fairytale for the ages’.
I’ve tried to find a copy for years. Bella has too. My mom stopped at every vendor on the street selling used books. We always came up empty.
Arietta didn’t. She found a copy that was signed by the author.
She gave it to my dad during one of their cheeseburger and chili fries with a side of sign language lessons lunches.
It touched him.
I witnessed that tonight when his smile beamed as he held that book.
My phone chimes, so I drop my gaze and read the incoming email from my assistant that I was expecting.
I knew she’d write back immediately with the name of the book.
I would prefer face-to-face contact with her tonight, but I’ll take what I can get.
Subject: Re: Re: Thank You
Dear Dominick,
Ruins of Roses.
That’s the name of the book.
Speaking of roses, I put the ones you brought me on my nightstand before I got into bed.
That way I can smell them in my dreams.
Thank you again.
Arietta
She’s in bed.
Jesus. What the fuck is she wearing or not wearing?
Does she sleep on her back or side?
I shake away all of that and move to my leather sofa. Taking a seat, I lean back and stare at my phone.
It almost falls from my hand when it starts ringing.
Arietta.
She’s calling me.
Clearing my throat, I reach down and graze a hand over my rock hard cock. I need to get a grip.
I answer on the second ring. “Hello.”
“Mr. Calvetti,” she whispers. “I mean Dominick.”
I smile at the sound of her voice. I’ve always found it sweet and soft. Now, I find it sexy as hell.
“Arietta,” I say her name in a low tone.
“I have to tell you something.” She lets out a soft exhale. “It couldn’t wait until morning.”
Jesus. Is this happening? Is she about to tell me she wants me to come over?
“Tell me,” I bite out a bit too sharply.
Silence greets me. Then a noise. It’s too faint to gauge precisely what it is, but if forced to, I’d place it midway between a moan and a whimper.
Is she touching herself?
I reach down and dive a hand under the waistband of my boxer briefs. I stroke myself, one long, slow stroke before I squeeze the crown of my cock. A bead of pre-cum escapes.
I’m primed for this.
I’ve never wanted a woman more.
“Arietta?” I say her name softly, but there’s nothing gentle in my tone. It’s not tender. It’s filled with the same need that I feel.
Need. Yes, I goddamn feel it, and it’s fucking intoxicating.
There’s a rustling sound on her end. “It’s good news. Clarice is coming in tomorrow to sign the contract with Modica. She sent me an email just a few moments ago.”
My hand stops on my dick mid-stroke. “What?”
She lets out another noise. This one is unmistakably a soft chuckle. “Stop it. You’re tickling me.”
My cock softens instantly.
She’s in bed, with the flowers I gave her on the nightstand next to her, and some guy who is in no way worthy of her by her side.
How the fuck did I not see this coming?
“You’re obviously not alone.” My voice is laced with frustration. “I’ll speak with you in the morning, Arietta.”
“What?” she asks through a stuttered laugh. “No. Oh no. It’s just Dudley. He’s trying to lick my neck.”
I shake my head. Now, I’m jealous of a goddamn dog.
“I’ll arrange for Clarice to come by in the afternoon if that works for you?”
“Sure. Yes.” I close my eyes and rest my head back.
“You have a free hour starting at four,” she points out. “I didn’t want to fall asleep without telling you. I know how important this is to you.”
Suddenly, it doesn’t seem that important anymore.
“I’ll see you in the morning, sir...I mean, Dominick.” Her breathy voice carries over the line. “Goodnight.”
Before I have a chance to respond, she ends the call.
I toss my phone on the couch next to me and head straight for the bathroom. One long, cold shower awaits.
Chapter 33
Arietta
Trying to sleep after talking to Dominick on the phone late at night was a waste of time.
I took a shower instead. It was cold. It didn’t help.
His voice sounded extra raspy and deep when we were talking. I was relieved when he responded to my email, even though it means I’m on dinner duty for the next week.