“We’ll go and talk about this when you’ve calmed down,” he manages, his voice tight.
“You’re ruining me,” she cries, and then buries her face into his chest.
When his arm goes around her waist, I can’t take a second more.
I turn and shove Angel away from me before disappearing into the darkness.
I can’t.
I just can’t.
He’s playing with me now, and I won’t take it any longer.
5
“Jesus, she really did a number on you,” Luca murmurs, cleaning my face with a damp cloth after we arrive home.
The second we arrived back at the party, I found Luca and begged him to take me home. He did, making sure that we got out of there before Jagger and Sharleen returned. I couldn’t bear it, I couldn’t stand to see them together, to see him comfort her. I wish I felt guilty about what we did, but I don’t. I don’t, and I hate that about myself. All I can taste is him on my lips. I can feel his warmth between my legs. I can smell him on my clothes.
It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad I don’t know that I can keep on breathing much longer.
“She’s a fucking bitch,” I mutter, wincing as he presses against the wound under my eye.
“To be fair, you did fuck her husband.”
I give him a look. “To be fair, she came back from the dead and I was already with her husband. It’s not like I stole him from her.”
Luca grins. “Valid point. I don’t like her anyway, so I have no sympathy. One more hit on this eye, and you’d need stitches. You’re going to be bruised up good tomorrow.”
“That makes it worse,” I mutter. “The fact that she got one over me and I couldn’t even fight back.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll have your time to shine.” Luca nudges me. “There, you’re all cleaned up. Take some Tylenol, you’re going to need it, not just for the hangover but for your face. You want me to help you shower?”
I raise my brows at him. “You’re just trying to see me naked, admit it.”
He chuckles. “As nice as that would be, I’m not going to take on the angry man living down the road. He is terrifying.”
“Fuck him,” I mumble, pushing to my feet. “Do we have pizza, tell me we have pizza?”
Luca raises his brows. “It’s your house, lady. I can order some, though.”
I nod. “Do that, I have money in my purse. I’ll shower and we can eat. I need to eat.”
I go into the shower, and when I strip off and step under it, I wince as the water washes over my tender face. Fucking Sharleen. I didn’t see it coming. I might have deserved it, but I would have liked the chance to fight back at the very least. She whooped my ass, and my pride is a little scolded because of that.
I finish up my shower, get myself into some comfortable pajamas, and then I get a big glass of water and some painkillers before joining Luca in the living room. He’s sitting on the sofa, flicking through the channels, and when he hears me enter, he turns and looks over his shoulder. “Your phone was ringing.”
“I don’t care,” I mutter, walking over and flopping down beside him. “Pizza?”
“On its way. I hope you like pepperoni?”
My stomach grumbles in response.
Luca chuckles.
“So, you and Jagger got busted in the act, right out there on the street?”
I roll my eyes. “We were done, and it was dark. Nobody could see us.”
“What if a car went past?”
“It didn’t,” I mumble.
“Was it good?”
I glance at him. “You really want to know?”
He grins at me. “Fuck yes, I want all the details. Leave nothing out.”
I laugh and lean back in the chair. “It was incredible. It always is. He’s an animal, and there’s just something about him, something so raw and feral. It’s hot.”
Luca nods. “I think I need to get some tips from him, encourage more ladies in my direction.”
I snort. “You’d have no problem getting ladies. You’re gorgeous.”
He glances at me. “I knew you thought I was hot.”
I shove him. “I never said you weren’t, I just said I wasn’t interested. Doesn’t mean there aren’t hundreds of others who are.”
“Well, when you find them, send them my way. I’m in need of some female company.”
“If you’re about to drop the blue balls conversation, I’m out.” I smile at him.
He chuckles. “I’m not that desperate. Yet. Take me sightseeing tomorrow, show me what these American girls are made of.”
I laugh. “It’s a deal.”
A knock on the door has me pushing to my feet, desperate to get that pizza into my stomach. I swing it open, but it isn’t the pizza boy, it’s Jagger, standing there, no longer in his costume but a pair of denim jeans and a black shirt. His eyes scan over my face, and his fists clench. “Wanted to see if you were okay.”