I walk up the first flight of stairs, my black leather Louboutin Mary Janes clapping on the white tile. Turning the corner, I proceed up the next, when a book slips from my grasp. It tumbles down the steps, making a loud slapping noise that bounces off the abandoned hallways. “Shit.” I run after it. I bend down to pick it up, but someone beats me to it. I look up from my crouched position at the man who stands before me. He holds my book in one hand and his cell in the other.
I stand and rip my book from his grip. “Nice to see you haven’t lost your phone.” Then I turn and start to walk away from him, stomping my heels up the second set of stairs.
“Haven …” He grabs my upper arm, pulling me to a stop.
I spin around to face him, yanking out of his hold. “Don’t you start.”
“I didn’t have any cell service where I was,” he explains, his big dark eyes pleading for me to forgive him.
I don’t.
But now I know he was out in the desert or the woods somewhere. Probably helping his father bury a body. Or two. His father considers that as close to bonding as they will ever get. But what do you expect when your dad is a Don; the ringleader of the Italian-American Mafia?
I wish that had deterred me from falling in love with him. Sadly, when I found out, I was already too far in. That’s the scary thing about love; it blurs the lines of right and wrong. You choose to ignore what you should question because it’s dangerous and thrilling at the same time.
“How long have you been back?” I demand.
Walking up the three stairs, he closes the distance between us, forcing me to look up at him even though he stands on the step below me. He hates people looking down at him for any reason. Reaching up, he pulls the strap of my backpack off my shoulder.
I go to pick it up. “Luca …”
But he grabs my arm, stopping me from bending down. “An hour.” He answers my previous question and cups my face with his warm hand. My breath starts to quicken. The feeling in my chest has my thighs tightening.
No! I will not allow him to do this to me.
“I knew you had tutoring, so I came straight here to see you.”
As I look over his freshly shaven face, I know he’s showered recently. I can still smell the lingering citrus of his bodywash on his flawless skin. The guy is too gorgeous to be real. It’s truly unfair. He has his father’s jet black hair. Normally, he wears it spiked and shorter on the sides, but right now, he has it combed back. And he has dark eyes, but not as dark as his father’s or his brother’s. They’re framed with long dark lashes. A chiseled jaw. Dressed in a black fitted T-shirt and dark jeans, he looks utterly delicious.
His late grandfather is from Italy, but his father was born in New York and lived there until he moved to Vegas when he was fourteen. Where Mr. Bianchi met Luca’s mother. Her father owned a very large concrete company, and concrete is useful when you have bodies that can be hidden under the new foundations being poured daily. No one has ever come out and told me, but I connected the dots. His father wanted access to the properties to hide evidence and bodies, and he got it when he married Luca’s mother. I’ve done my research on the Mafia; they marry for power. In some cases, that even means marrying blood relatives. But his father moved back to New York when Luca was ten, leaving Luca and his brothers here. He knew they would do his bidding in Vegas while he was able to control New York. He was able to cover more ground that way. All part of his plan to take over the world.
He wraps his free hand around my waist and pulls me to him. I don’t pull away. Fuck, I’m just as bad as Emilee.
Dick whipped.
Good dick will make a girl stupid. I should become a lesbian.
“I have to go,” I tell him but make no move to pull away.
“Cancel,” he whispers, his lips inches from mine. My heart begins to beat faster, knowing he wants to spend time with me.
You stupid bitch. “I can’t …”
“Yes, you can,” His head dips to my neck, and he kisses the tender spot behind my ear. My head falls back, and I moan but cut it off in case any classmates are lingering. “I’ve missed you.” He licks up my neck to the shell of my ear. “I thought about you the entire time I was gone.” His voice drops to a growl, and I feel his hard cock against my lower stomach when he rubs his hips against me.