I call dibs on the shower first. First, it’s payback for his callous remarks and secondly everyone knows it takes girls longer to get ready for a date.
The hot water and overhead warming lamps when I get out make me feel incredibly warm and alive. Maybe it’s the glow of afternoon sex. Actually, my first time with sex and I get a quick text off to Mila when I apply my make up wishing she was here.
I let out a sigh as I fidget with the tiny, antiquated blow-dryer for my hair. With the rate this is going, it will take a year to dry it. I told Mila that Marchello was taking me on a short ski trip, and she thought it was so romantic that she’s already picking out my bridal bouquet when she should be working on Juliet’s, but I know she’ll manage to hold down the fort until I return.
I didn’t tell her where because all I know of organized crime is that they torture people in order to find the person they are looking for and I have no idea what to expect out of this entire ordeal or what I’m involved in, but it’s sure put a crimp in my life.
Yeah, a crimp that looks like Marchello’s picture perfect cock that filled me up and then some. I never knew it could hurt if a guy went too deep. No wonder God gave us such amazing orgasms to make up for it.
Fuck. And he’s implied there will be more tonight. I hope my girlie parts are up for it as the tight ski pants touched on some soft areas down there and it reminded me of making love in this very room.
I know I won’t be able to resist him as he steps into the room with a towel tucked around his waist, his manly chest is prominent, and his curly black hair has tiny droplets of moisture on it. He lacks extra body fat. His shoulders are squared back from the steam and my lady parts are chomping at the bit for a repeat of earlier.
Yeah, I don’t see how I’m going to be able to break this fuckfest up, not with a man who drips sex appeal, has a hard body and walks around smelling like Christmas cookies and evergreen trees. I allow my eyes to drift down towards his crotch as he passes by, his cock is making his white cotton towel rise and I refrain from sharing the smug smile on my lips.
Ah, he’s got an insatiable thirst for me too.
I don’t have the type of clothing he’s used to seeing on his girlfriends, so I use my best sweater dress that clings to my curvy hips and my wear my push-up bra.
I laugh at most of the phrases Mila uses, but now that I’m finally a woman, who’s no longer a virgin that is, I find her descriptions to be fairly accurate and am grateful for the education.
15
Marchello
Ihope being a prick to Prende keeps her from getting attached to me, being a virgin and all that, but I couldn’t let her be the sacrificial lamb for this Lirim character who sounds like a douchebag.
Even though Prende said she’s been on a few dates, her family has been old world while our Italian one has been more progressive. Both our families are as traditional as they can be in this day and age and, for obvious reasons. We’re both required to marry within our respective families and that is especially true for hers given how strict she was brought up.
She’s promised to another man, and I know it was a bad idea to bed her, but I couldn’t resist. I’m drawn to her like a bee to flowers. I’ve had my share of women but none who make me feel high the entire time I’m around them. And that’s why I’m an ass to her sometimes, to prove I’m in control and it helps to hide how much I really care for her.
She’s sassy, sexy and I loved fucking the shit out of her after our delicious dinner at a Michelin star restaurant, followed by a winter walk through town. I kept my eyes peeled knowing this is where a hit went down recently. I don’t need to be the next suspect in the hot seat. Or the next victim. I’m not sure Prende isn’t in danger.
Things in our family have been quiet since we teamed up with Francesca’s syndicate in Rome. Now, all we have to worry about is retribution from the Albanians since they seem to want to pin this hit on us. I doubt they’d do anything with Prende by my side.
They have no idea who put the first drug in Argon’s drink, and we want to keep it that way. Thankfully for us, that drug alone didn’t do him in, but I know this peace isn’t going to last forever. Fingers have been pointed. Sal and Francesca are on the list of potential suspects.
Word has it Sal and Francesca’s questioning went well. On top of their alibi, there’s no proof they were that far north that night, so I pray that appeases Besnik and his associates.
I still have my suspicions about Besnik. He was friends with Argon and could easily get close enough to do it, but poison isn’t typically a method of killing used by men.
Men are not afraid of blood and gore. We tend to be more hands on, using . . . frankly, torture and bullets.
Prende certainly wouldn’t kill her dad. I’ve seen some psycho women in my day and she’s definitely not one of them. She was genuinely shocked when she saw the fraud in her business ledger. In fact, she was so pissed off about the betrayal, she swore she’d never trust a man again.
I get it. Her trust has been broken by the first man she ever loved. That’s tough to get over. However, she’s a smart girl and I think in time she’ll forgives him and understand why he kept her in the dark.
Part of it was his pride, wanting to be the provider and spoil his only child. The rest of it can be blamed on his need to protect her. If she’s not mixed up in it, then she’s safe. The fewer secrets to spill, the safer she is, but that’s not always true with the Albanians or the Costa Nostra in Sicily.
As long as Argon did nothing egregious, there was no reason to go after his family. It seems the quarrel or issue was only with him as far as we can tell, but who the fuck knows?
I’m laying here in the dark, with Prende next to me, under a fluffy duvet as snow falls outside our window. I feel like I’ve had a week’s vacation in just twenty-four hours. It’s been a mental vacation because she takes my mind off the things I’d rather forget. Plus, I love to fuck with her. Before it was just her mind with our back-and-forth banter. Now I love fucking with her body.
I pounded her pretty hard tonight, but she seemed to like it and damned if I’m not horny again. I’ve never been with someone I wanted to fuck every time they walked into the room.
One look, one smile, one soft giggle at an inside joke and I’m wrecked.
I’m falling bad but it can never be. Our families won’t tolerate us mixing family lines. Plus, they’ve already made plans to marry her to someone else. Arranged marriages are more prevalent in her culture and I don’t know how Prende will get out of it.