CHAPTER NINETEEN
I drop to the stonepatio and cry. Naked, alone, and sore in so many places. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m twenty-six. Plenty old to have sex. Too old to still be a virgin. It’s not like I’ve been waiting for the perfect man, or even until I’m married.
Ironic that I’m now married, yet Stone is far from the perfect man. Yes, I should have told him I am—was—a virgin, but I don’t understand why it matters. The man has had sex with hundreds of women. Surely, some have been virgins.
I pull my bent knees to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs, lowering my forehead and letting out so many tears.
Tears of regret. Tears of pain. It hurt a little when he first entered, but not as much as I had expected. I’m sore but it also felt so good when he moved inside of me. His words, though. Stone is right. He’s an asshole. He warned me before taking me.
I should hate him for the way he treated me, for leaving me like this, but I don’t. Does this make me a sadist? It isn’t the pain I enjoyed. It’s Stone.
Even angry, I didn’t fear him. There are so many layers he keeps hidden. I don’t believe he’s as awful as he pretends to be. It’s all a cover to deal with the shitty life he’s been dealt. Granted, I’ve had a shitty life as well, but I don’t go around treating people the way he does.
Determined not to let tonight ruin me, I use the railing to help me stand. My legs are tired, sore, and shaking. My thighs are sticky. He wore a condom so I’m pretty sure the mess is my own. I’ve masturbated with my fingers plenty of times but have never been as wet as I was with Stone. And I’ve never had orgasms like the ones he’s given me.
I find my shorts and pull them on, followed by my shirt. I hang my head as I make my way back to my room. I drop my clothes in the corner of my bathroom and take a long, hot shower. When I’ve washed the smell and evidence of Stone down the drain, I wrap myself in a robe and crawl into bed.
I don’t want to sleep in the satin pajama sets from Italy and I’m too tired to go through my Target bags for a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. I sleep in the robe and with a towel around my wet hair.
The dreams come, and they all star Stone.
I don’t see him for three days. I’m okay with that. I don’t know how to act around him anymore. Besides, I’m having a wonderful time with Mama. We walk in the morning, go to lunch in town—Marco always on watch—and play card games in the early evening.
For the most part, she remembers how to play a few basic games. She forgets the rules from time to time, but we are comfortable with each other. I’ve heard the same stories a dozen times, and she asks me the same questions over and over again, but I don’t care. She’s healthy and happy. That’s all I ever want for her.
Carla serves us dinner on the patio, the Finger Lakes as our backdrop. Stone and his men haven’t joined us for a meal since the night on the veranda, and mama hasn’t asked about him. For this, I’m grateful.
I sense someone behind me and turn. I don’t know if I’m relieved or sad to see Marco and not Stone. He’s been hiding away somewhere.
“Miss Gia, I’m sorry for interrupting your dinner.”
“Are you here to plant the roses?” Mama asks. It’s not the first time and won’t be the last, I’m sure.
“No, ma’am. I’m here for Gia.”
“Oh, you’re too late. She’s already spoken for.”
I raise my eyebrow. “Marco is our friend who looks over the property and drives us around.”
“I haven’t seen your boyfriend in a while. Are you two having a row?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend, mama.”
“I’m sure you do. Rockford? Stonewall? Stone. Yes, his name is Stone, yes?”
“Stone is my boss, not my boyfriend.” Which is the absolute truth.
“Oh, you can’t hide the way you light up when he enters a room. And I’ve seen how he watches you. You may be trying to hide your office romance from Marco, but your mother knows these things.” She taps her temple.
“Well, if I was trying to hide it from Marco, you’ve just spilled the beans.” I glance over at him, and I’ll be damned, he has a grin on his face.
“It’s no secret, cara.” She pats my hand. “Come join us for dinner, Marco.”
“Thank you, ma’am, but I’ve come to inform Gia that we need to leave in an hour.”
“Leave?” I cross my hands over my chest. I don’t want to leave my mother. Ever.
“Yes. In an hour. Be ready.” He leaves before I can ask any questions.