When he really gets going, my breath hitches. I try to find a perfect rhythm with him, but I’m a little off. It’s okay, it still feels great, and I can tell he agrees. I love the look on his face, the pleasure, knowing he’s getting it from me. From my body.
I feel that pressure starting to build, promising me a pleasurable payout, but I don’t quite make it, because he gets there first. A guttural groan escapes him and his body goes rigid. I try to clench him with my feminine muscles and he groans again before collapsing against me.
I wrap my arms around him and let him settle into the crook of my neck, sated. I don’t even mind the weight of his body crushing mine. I feel like I swallowed sunshine, all warm and toasty and… lovey. I know it’s just afterglow, but I don’t care; I’m going to enjoy it.
Eventually, he rolls off me, reaching for the box of tissues on my nightstand. Once he’s cleaned up, he rolls back over and pulls me into his arms. It feels like heaven.
Lying in his arms, watching the rise and fall of his chest, I’ve never felt so at peace.
“You okay?” he asks me.
Smiling up at him, I assure him, “I’m great.”
“Good,” he says, leaning in to give me a soft little kiss.
I wish we could stay like this forever. I know we can’t, but looking into his eyes, I vow to enjoy every second I can. Maybe it won’t last forever, maybe it won’t be normal, but whatever it is, it’ll be ours. Right now, that seems like enough.
Chapter Ten
Most Mondays aren’t much to look forward to, but as I stand in the hall crowded with parents waiting for their kids, I wish Allan would hurry the hell up so I can drop him off and hustle over to the bakery for my first day of work.
I can’t help smiling, wondering what it will be like. Aside from babysitting—which I’ve seldom been paid for—this will be my first job ever. And I’ll get a chance to develop at least a working relationship with one of Vince’s family members.
As I rock forward on my toes, I somehow bump into the man next to me.
“Oh, sorry,” he says.
I flash a wordless smile, unconcerned. I glance down the hall again. I know class hasn’t let out yet, but it will any minute.
I feel the man’s eyes still on me, and I glance back at him. I cut my eyes away quickly, since he catches me looking, but out of the corner of my eyes, I see him still watching me.
I frown at him that time.
He glances to his left, then his right, casually, but I notice. Then he leans slightly closer to me. “Mia?”
My heart about stops. I’ve picked the kids up many times before and I recognize many of the parents here—but not him. He’s tall with nice blue eyes, a Clark Kent jawline, and dark hair. He has a trustworthy face, but he shouldn’t know my name, so I don’t trust it.
I decide to move away from him.
Shouldering past people with the occasional ‘excuse me,’ I make way to a less crowded part of the hall.
Only, Clark Kent follows me.
He doesn’t look Italian, but Vince’s words about them having associates they aren’t related to flash across my mind and I’m about three seconds from fleeing the school without my brother.
I back up, fixing to turn and run down the hall, but the stranger anticipates my move and reaches a strong hand out, grasping me by the wrist.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” he states firmly, his gaze serious.
My heart hammers inside my chest and I yank my arm. He doesn’t immediately release me, but then he does, glancing around to make sure no one noticed. Apparently satisfied that no soccer mom is quietly calling the police, he comes to stand beside me again.
“I’m a friend, not a foe,” he says.
“Who are you?” I ask, trying to still my shaky hands.
“My name’s Ethan. I’m a private investigator.”
I frown at that, confused. “A private investigator?”
“The Morellis didn’t send me,” he reiterates. “I suspect if they sent someone for you, there would be less talking and more bleeding.”
Well, that’s reassuring. “What do you want?” I ask him.
“To warn you. I took this assignment because it was supposed to be on the up and up, but you won’t see me again after today. I’m not getting tangled up in this mob bullshit again,” he says, with enough derision that I can finally accept he’s not here on behalf of Mateo Morelli.
“Warn me about what?”
“I’ve been on your case for two days, and I already understand how Vince met you.” He pauses, letting that land. “If Mateo takes an interest in looking into you, how long do you think it will take before he figures out where you live?”