CHAPTER SEVEN
Requests. Callista Parisi, or rather, Gia Smith is nothing like I’d imagined. She has a little of the devil in her. Not the evil that lurks in her father’s blood, but a spitfire mouth that I can’t help but fantasize about.
A mouth that is sure to taste of sugar and spice, with a lot of bite. I don’t think about kissing women. Ever. Not even Sebastiana. Her blood-red lipstick never appeals to me, except when leaving a mark around my cock. I don’t want it to mark my mouth. Ever.
But Gia’s unpainted pink lips promise to give me more than I can imagine. I’m a breath away from sucking her bottom lip between my teeth. It takes all the willpower of a Parlatore not to grind my heavy, needy cock into her. She feels it. I see it in her eyes.
The woman doesn’t balk, though. She stays strong and fights for what she wants, which I respect. She also realizes defeat but tries to cover it up with her own terms. Something else I can respect, after I stew in annoyance. I don’t like to be questioned or given ultimatums. Gia’s, however, intrigues me.
It’s a win-win all around. She’ll sign the papers and I’ll get to fuck her morning noon and night. If she is taking away my outlets, she’ll have to be my only source. I have no problem with that. It isn’t like I need a variety of women.
I simply don’t want the mess that comes with being with one woman. Sebastiana is different. She creates her own life and loves being the mistress to some of Italy’s wealthiest. We have an agreement. When she is working—fucking—someone else, she lets me know.
It disgusts me that Gia assumes I fuck young girls. Hell, I don’t even like fucking women in their twenties, and I sure the hell don’t force any woman into stripping naked and letting me have my way with them. Gia has accused me of that one too many times. The women I fuck aren’t forced into their position by anyone in their family or by me. I make sure of it.
I let Gia off the hook only because of her past, the kind of house she grew up in. With Lorenzo Parisi as a father, no wonder she doesn’t trust easily. I can’t blame her, and again, I respect her for that.
My respect doesn’t come easy, and never this fast. I’ve only known the woman for four days and already she’s gotten under my skin. Not a good sign if I plan on keeping my head straight while I execute my life’s mission.
Revenge.
I tap a button on the side of my desk, and Frederick enters a moment later.
“She’ll sign.”
I watch as my trusted lawyer of the past decade lowers to the seat across from Gia. It doesn’t matter that he is twenty years my senior. He works for me. I pay him well to keep his mouth shut and to tip me off with leaks related to Parisi or Rossi.
He is one of the few people who know the reason behind the marriage.
Gia picks up the pen she’d thrown down earlier. “Before I sign, Frederick...”
My lawyer glances my way, confusion in his eyes, surely because he isn’t used to people talking to him like this either, but he knows better and follows my lead.
“Yes?” he asks.
“You need to add an addendum somewhere in here.” She picks up the stack of papers and hands them back to him.
Again, Frederick looks over at me. I lift my chin in agreement.
He clears his throat. “And what would that be, Miss Parisi?”
Gia points her pen at me while keeping her attention on Frederick. “That if Stone Parlatore cheats on me with any other woman, all the contents of this...this contract are null and void. I retract whatever it is I’m signing. No hanky panky. No getting down and dirty. No touchy feely or lip-locking with anyone.”
I bite back my chuckle. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone refer to what I do as hanky panky. I fuck. I don’t get touchy-feely and I sure as hell don’t lip-lock.
I wave my hand through the air, giving him permission to add whatever terminology Gia wants him to write. As long as I have her sweet tits to hold on to every night, and her hot, wet core to fuck, I don’t give a shit.
Every night?Since when do I imagine every night with the same woman? With any woman? I instantly regret agreeing to any terms with Gia. She is too smart to cave so easily. She has something up her sleeve and I don’t know if it annoys me or turns me on that she thinks she’s gotten her way.
No matter, I’ve won. I watch as Frederick finishes writing the gibberish Gia requested. He carries it over for me to approve.
I, Rocco Parlatore, agree to a monogamous marriage. If I break my wedding vows with Callista Parisi, this contract will be immediately ineffective.
I nod my approval, and he brings the papers back to Gia to sign. I watch as she runs her tongue across her upper teeth, bites on her bottom lip, taps the pen to her chin—holy fuck, that mouth—before signing.
“You can go now,” I say to Gia, indicating the door. Her mouth drops open and all sorts of illustrious thoughts and images come rushing to my mind. To my dick.
“Really? That’s it?” She pushes herself to standing and storms across my office, leaning once again over the expanse of my desk. “Do I need to remind you of the mutual respect thing we agreed to, Rocco?”