Maggie rolls her eyes and huffs but doesn’t answer.
Ugh. I don’t care. I totally don’t care, except it twists the part of me that still feels inadequate. Not good enough.
“He was, wasn’t he?”
“So?”
“Who was he with?”
Reluctance flits across Maggie’s face. “Someone I’d never seen before. She looks like you, actually. Her name is Shelly.”
I can’t decide whether to be flattered or pissed that he picked someone who looks like me. Does it mean he really did like my looks, despite all the criticism? Or just that he has a type? Does he pick apart Shelly the way he pointed out all my flaws?
I experience a stab of jealousy—not for Shelly, but for my old life when I hung out at Toronto’s with friends and had a boyfriend (even if he was a dick). Instead, last night, I was hiding from a stalker at a nightclub with no friends worth keeping.
Of course, the ending to the night had more than made up for it. I had Carlo’s hot hands and lips and tongue all over my body. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted to be at Toronto’s, watching John waltz in with a new girl on his arm.
I’m not jealous. This is just what it feels like to let go of the old me. My old life.
I turn to my closet and start pulling out clothes. “I don’t even know how long to pack for,” I complain, getting a little manic as I toss clothes from my closet into a suitcase. “I mean, is this, like, a week-long thing? Or just for the weekend? Or…?”
Secretly, I want it to be a forever thing, but that can’t be what Carlo has in mind.
Like he said, my dad would kill him.
Besides, who would invite someone to move in permanently after having sex one time? Certainly not a player like Carlo. He hasn’t lived with a girl in the four years he’s been here.
Everything about this situation is just plain bizarre, including my own reaction to being punished by a hot and kinky alpha male. It’s on the tip of my tongue to confess the kinky part to Maggie, but every time I start to say something, I bite it back.
Maggie’s very liberal. And while she’s sex-positive, she’s also a feminist. I don’t know if she would take Carlo’s new self-appointed role as my keeper as kinky or old-world patriarchal. Plus, she might think my acceptance of all this is related to my damaged self-esteem. How can I explain the way my body turns to molten liquid every time he starts bossing me around?
How much I want to have him in charge of me.
Protecting me. Punishing me.
Pleasuring me.
“Just bring enough for the rest of the weekend. It would be weird to assume any longer, and besides, you can always come back and get more stuff Monday if you decide to stay, but Summer—” she levels me with a concerned-friend look—“this is all going too fast.”
My gut clenches because Maggie’s right. I’m being impulsive and crazy. To assume anything long-term will come out of this thing with Carlo is laughable. “I’m just having fun. I promise.” I cross my heart with my forefinger. “I deserve some hot sex right now.”
A sympathetic smile stretches Maggie’s lips. “You do.”
“Do you?” Carlo’s deep voice startles us both, and I shriek and whirl. His eyes glitter like dark jades, and while his expression is inscrutable, there’s a dark, dangerous air to him.
Did he hear what I was saying? Well, it’s not a lie. My face heats. “Don’t I?” I reach for coy.
One corner of his lips lifts in a lopsided smirk. “That depends. Are you in the habit of keeping your door unlocked, so strange men can walk in at will?”
Excitement flaps in my belly at the scolding. He’s looking for new reasons to punish me. To assert his will. It’s a game he loves playing, and I love being his partner in it.
I dart a glance at Maggie to see how she takes the scolding, but she simply grins and looks between us as if fascinated by our exchange.
“You’re not a strange man.”
He leans in the doorway, his broad shoulders and tall frame as elegant in jeans and a t-shirt as it is in a fine Italian suit. “I could be.”
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you’re here to protect me, then.”
“Hi Maggie.” Carlo moves in to give her a cheek kiss, his European habit of greeting.
“Hi, Carlo.” Maggie waggles her eyebrows in my direction when Carlo turns away.
I grin back.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Call me later, Summer,” Maggie calls as she heads for the door.
“See you.”
Carlo stalks toward me, his eyes dark with intent.
I stand rooted to the spot, excitement sparking in every cell.
Carlo bends and tosses me over his shoulder.
I shriek and pound on his back, giggling. “What are you doing?”