“Take me away from here,” I mumbled.
“I know a place,” he said.
“Of course you do,” I deadpanned. “You’re Luca fucking Marchese.”
Chapter Twenty-One
LUCA
When the elevator opened, Izzie stepped out and was in awe of her surroundings. Her heels clacked along the tiled floor, the sound echoing off the high ceilings. She wore a black dress that wrapped around her perfect curves. I trailed behind her to catch another glimpse of her magnificent ass. Her legs were lean but slightly muscular. All I could think about was shoving my face between them. But she needed to sleep off the alcohol.
She stepped into the open-concept living room, looked down at the floor, and shook her head. Her eyes lifted up from under her brows at me. “Not only do you live in the penthouse, but you also have imported floors, and…” She pointed at the paintings on the wall. “Those are real, right?” I nodded, and she continued, “Do you own this place?”
“It’s my dad’s apartment, but he hasn’t used it in a long time.”
She looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows that spanned the entire first floor. “I love it. The view of the Camden Waterfront is incredible.”
“I’m glad it meets your approval, princess.” I laced my fingers between hers and led her up the spiral staircase to the last door on the left. I pushed open the door to my bedroom, its high ceilings, tiled floor, private balcony, and incredible water view a sight to see.
Without a word, Izzie ran into the room and plopped down on the king-size bed, stuffing her face in the pillows. She kicked off her heels and untied her dress before rolling herself in the duvet. “Take a nap with me, Luca.” Izzie patted the space next to her, a lazy look in her eyes that indicated we would actually sleep.
I stripped down to dark gray boxer briefs and curled up against her back, holding her, until she started making the adorable purring sounds I loved so much.
An hour passed, and sleep evaded me, so I headed downstairs. I wanted to be there when she woke up, but I had a better surprise.
Two hours later, Izzie staggered downstairs, wearing my T-shirt and boxers. Her tousled curls were a little frizzy from her lying on them, but she still looked amazing. She even had on a pair of my black trouser socks that were too big for her tiny feet.
She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. “Oh my God, what smells so amazing?”
“It’s a surprise.” I pulled a chair out for her at the kitchen island, gesturing for her to sit. Then, I ventured over to the stove. The aroma of olive oil, herbs, and tomatoes filled the air. I lifted the lid off the stockpot and breathed in the scent.
Izzie pushed off her chair, now standing beside me with a grin. She wrapped her arm around my back and leaned into me, licking her bottom lip. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Uh-huh.” I nodded.
She giggled with delight. “Did your mom make it?”
“No, I did. You know, I can actually cook without Ma around. In fact, I’m the one who does all the prep work at the restaurant.”
“You made this for me?” She held her hand over her heart, her lips puckered into the cutest smile. “What are we eating with it?”
I scooped sauce onto a wooden spoon, blowing on it, and I held it out for her to taste. “Rigatoni and the best chicken Parmesan you’ll ever eat.”
“Mmm…sounds amazing. I love pasta and anything topped with sauce and cheese.” She licked the tomatoes off the spoon and glanced around the kitchen. “We need bread.”
I pointed to the breadbasket, and she scooped the bag up. She slid the carving board onto the countertop, picked a knife from the block, and sliced a loaf of focaccia bread. I loved watching her make herself at home in the apartment.
She dangled a slice over her mouth and bit down, chewing, as she walked toward the stove. “Do you mind?” Hovered over the pot, about to dip her bread into it, she hesitated. “My nanny, Domenica, hates when I do this, but if you ask me, it’s the only way to know if the gravy needs more seasoning.” Izzie finished chewing and smiled. “Plus, you get a little snack before dinner.”
I motioned my hand toward the pot and grinned. “Go right ahead, beautiful. Dip away.”
She softly kissed me on the lips, and the trace of tomatoes on her breath made me want to devour her.
“Thanks, boyfriend.”
After I cleaned the chicken, Izzie helped me bread and fry it. Charged with the task of flipping the cutlets, she hovered over the stove.
“Do you ever hate being a part of a powerful family?” she asked with a stoic expression.
Her question took me off guard.
“I mean, for me, when people find out who I am, it’s like I have a target on my back. Everyone is nice to me, and they pay me absurd compliments. All of a sudden, things are on the house, or the packed restaurant has an open table that just so happens to be the best one in the whole place. But then I get the assholes who hate me because of who I am. In high school, girls always talked shit about me behind my back. That’s a big reason I wasn’t into the whole sorority thing. They called me debu-slut because my mom was whoring it up, and everyone in town knew about it. Those bitches used to throw dollar bills at me when I walked down the hallway. Sometimes, I hate being a Rinaldi.” She frowned. “Now more than ever.”
“Fear is a powerful motivator. Most people are either scared to death when they hear my name, or they’re intrigued. There’s no middle ground. They either love it or hate it. Girls in the past wanted to use me because they thought our lifestyle was some kind of gateway to being famous. But they had no idea what they were asking for, and it’s not like I could bring an outsider into our family.”
“Why me then? Is it because of my grandfather’s connections?” She grabbed a pair of tongs and removed the rest of the chicken cutlets from the oil.
“Your family understands the way we do business. They always have. Our families have many similarities and invested interests. It makes things easier for me in that regard.”
Lining the bottom of a baking pan with gravy, she placed the chicken on top of it. Her gaze never shifted up from the counter as I guided her through each step.
“That’s why I wasn’t freaked out by your family.” She sighed quietly. “When I was younger, my grandmother used to curse at Grandfather in Italian. That’s why I know my curses so well. She said the word mafiso a lot, and when I got older, he told me everything about our family, about our connections. I didn’t handle it well at first, but once I warmed up to it, I found I didn’t mind the idea so much.”
I reached around her, lining the sauced chicken with freshly grated mozzarella and Parmesan cheeses, topping it off with chopped parsley. She folded aluminum foil over the pan and gave me a nice view of her ass as she set it on the bottom rack of the oven.
“Mr. Catalano, he’s not a normal attorney. He’s your father’s adviser, his consigliere. Am I right?”
“You’re too smart for your own good.” I punched buttons on the timer and slid my fingers down her bare arm.
Izzie quivered at the slightest touch. I loved the way she responded to me.
I uncorked the wine, poured two glasses, and handed one to Izzie as we took a seat at the bar.
We chatted about our classes until the timer beeped on the oven. With our crazy schedules, we had so much catching up to do. Izzie cooked the rigatoni and mixed in the gravy while I worked on serving the chicken.
The formal dining room felt too cold with its long mahogany table and twelve-person seating arrangement. I set our plates on the kitchen island and pulled up a chair next to Izzie. She reached onto my plate, soaking up the sauce with her bread, smiling like a kid in a candy store.
“Okay,” she said, still chewing, her hand held over mouth, “I think this might be the best chicken I’ve ever tasted.”
The smile on her face made all the hard work worth it.
“What did I tell you? I learned that recipe from Ma when I was eight,
and we’ve been cooking together ever since.”
“I think it’s cute, how close you are with your mom.” Her eyes fell to her plate, and then she tilted her head just enough to hold my gaze. “It’s really nice. From that night I ate dinner with your family, you made it impossible for me not to love you more each day.”
I kissed her hair, holding on to the side of her head with my palm. “Ti amo, bella donna.”
Her bottom lip trembled, and she bit down on it, her entire body now shifting toward me. She placed her palm on my thigh, and I moved my hand on top of hers.
“Ti amo,” she whispered. It was the first time Izzie told me that she loved me.
Then, she pushed our plates aside before lunging herself at me and wrapping her legs around my back. I grabbed the back of her head and pressed my lips to her neck to taste her. Fuck dessert. I wanted to lick every inch of her body. Her fingers worked at a feverish pace as she popped open the buttons on my dress shirt. She moaned in my ear, stopping to suck on it.
Grinding on my dick like a pro, she took my belt off in one swift motion. She slid off me long enough to strip me down to my boxers and then resumed her position on my lap. Our lips met, the hunger of our kiss satisfying a deep aching between us. I unhooked her bra, the straps sliding down her arms and onto the floor.
“Luca,” she breathed against my neck, “I want you inside me.”
“C’mon, let’s take this upstairs.”
She hopped off my lap, and I followed behind her and up the spiral staircase. Izzie stopped at the top of the stairs, and leaned against the wall, her arm raised above her head. My God, she looked sexy. I grabbed her ass in my hands and parted her lips with my tongue, eventually making my way down to her neck and breasts. Her body quivered with each flick of my tongue on her nipples, the pink buds hardening as I licked, sucked, and nibbled on them.
She moaned so loud. I pulled my boxers down with one hand and gave my dick a quick stroke. I wanted to take my time and devour every inch of her flawless body, but I couldn’t think straight when she made that sound.
Leaving a trail of kisses down her stomach, I dropped to my knees and spread her legs wider. Each sound of pleasure made my dick so hard that I was in physical agony. I tried to occupy my mind with anything other than how good she tasted and how amazing she felt as I slipped my fingers inside her. She rocked her hips against my mouth, twisting her fingers through my hair, as the hottest orgasmic screams echoed through the hall.
At this rate, I wasn’t sure how long I’d last, but I had to fuck her.
I held on to her hips to stabilize her, kissing her one last time, before I led her by the hand to my bedroom. Moonlight cast shadows across my bed, the sheets still in disarray from her nap. Old Luca would have bent her over and fucked her senseless. Instead, I kissed her until the backs of her legs hit the mattress. I fell on top of her, our mouths still melded together. Positioned above her, I rubbed my dick against her clit, a soft purr escaping her mouth.
The warmth that pooled between her legs sent me over the edge. With the head of my dick pressed at her entrance, I stopped myself. I plucked a condom from the top drawer of the nightstand and rolled the latex over my length.
Repositioned above her, my elbows on each side of her head, I leaned forward to kiss her neck before making my way to her lips. Her hips arched as she kissed me, her hand gliding down my back. She bit down on her bottom lip, closing her eyes in anticipation. I waited until she opened her eyes again before I slid inside her.
From the day she’d cursed at me in Italian, I’d been thinking of this moment.
I took my time, careful not to fill her right away. We were making love, something I’d never done with anyone else. A groan of pleasure, maybe pain, forced her eyes closed, and I tensed, unsure if I should stop.
I didn’t move any further. I leaned down to kiss her mouth and said, “Am I hurting you?”
Her eyes remained shut, and she shook her head from side to side.
“Bella, look at me. I need to make sure you’re okay.”
She peeked up at me, ran her hand down my backside, and smiled. “Never better.” As if the pain or whatever had caused her apprehension passed, she tightly wrapped her legs around my back. “Luca,” she breathed.
I damn near lost my mind. As her body relaxed, working in a rhythmic motion along with mine, I lifted her leg over my shoulder, sliding deeper inside her.
“Oh my God,” she cried out before yelling a bunch of expletives in Italian. She sucked in a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with each groan that escaped her lips. Her eyes found mine, a look of pure ecstasy in them. “Fuck me harder, Luca.”
She didn’t need to tell me twice. Now, with both her legs draped over my shoulders, I pounded into her harder, faster. Her body convulsed, the grip she had on my dick tightened, and she screamed so loud that I had to focus on not coming before her. She let out a sigh and propped her head up with her arm, watching me, as I lost control. I collapsed on top of her and kissed her lips before rolling onto the mattress next to her.
It took a few minutes for me to get my bearings before I could formulate a coherent thought. I smelled of sweat, sex, and Izzie’s vanilla body lotion.
She curled up into the nook between my arm and shoulder, resting her head on my chest. “That was amazing,” she whispered.
“You’re amazing.” I planted a kiss on her forehead. “You have no idea how much I love you, Izzie.”
Now that I’d experienced how it felt to love her, I knew, without a doubt, that what we had was real.
I’d always thought I would corrupt the future Mrs. Marchese. If not me, then my family would, except Izzie’s own experiences had already hardened her. Almost four months from the day we bumped into each other at the Quad and we were a team—a criminal one, but a team nonetheless. And I’d never loved anyone or anything as much as I did Izzie.
She traced the outline of my jaw with her thumb, staring up at me with her beautiful eyes. “I love you, too, Luca.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
IZZIE
My eyes fluttered open to the warmth of sunlight on my cheek. A wall of windows boasted a spectacular view of the Delaware River and the Camden Waterfront. I rolled onto my side, away from the bright light, in desperate need of sleep. I reached out for Luca, gripping nothing but the soft Egyptian cotton sheets.
Startled, I sat up and looked around his bedroom. Just like his room at the frat house, it was immaculate.
Espresso-brown panels covered the wall behind the bed with matching nightstands on each side. The rest of the space was an off-white that almost appeared gray. I set my feet on the cold marble, and a chill ran through me. Standing, I took the robe at the edge of the bed, and I wrapped myself in the black silky fabric that stopped just above my knees. On the floor, I found a pair of UGG slippers and slid my feet inside. They were not mine yet fit me perfectly. I wondered if they belonged to another girl, and now, horrible thoughts were racing through my mind.
After fixing my hair in the mirror, I wandered downstairs to smell the scent of bacon. My heart calmed down when I saw Luca in front of the stove. His dark waves were tousled, and a pair of gray boxer briefs hugged his tan skin. He was fucking perfection. I didn’t approach at first, too focused on watching him cook me breakfast.
In such a short time, I had fallen in love with the most amazing man.
Satisfaction didn’t even begin to describe the feeling that washed over me.
I snuck behind him. With my face pressed against his back, I hugged him.
His hand slid on top of mine, and he spun me around and into his arms. “Morning, beautiful.”
The kiss he planted on my lips sent a shiver through me.
“Morning, boyfriend,” I said, glowing with delight.
“You’re just in time.” He released me to set a plate of crispy bacon on the island and spooned scrambled eggs onto our plates. “I was going to bring you breakfast in bed. You looked so peaceful. I di
dn’t want to wake you.”
Luca tugged at the belt on my robe and smiled. He took in the sight of my naked body and sucked in a deep breath. “I’m glad this fit, but I think I like it better on the floor.”
I frowned. “Please tell me this doesn’t belong to another girl.”
He shook his head, laughing. “Of course not. You should know me better than that.”
I threw my hands on my hips in irritation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re the only girl who’s ever been in this apartment, let alone my bed. I had my father’s assistant messenger over a few things for you this morning. There’s a new outfit and some girlie shit in that bag over there.” He pointed to a gray-and-white tote on the couch in the living room.
I stood up on my toes, a rush of energy surging through me, and I crashed against his mouth. Our lips parted, as we were hungry with desire for each other. The taste of toothpaste and bacon, an odd but delicious combination, made my stomach growl.
We had worked up an appetite last night, and now, hours later, I was starving. But I wanted him more than food, water, or even air.
Each kiss, I took in the scent of his citrus cologne, completely intoxicated by him.
“I think I love you a little more now than I did last night, Luca.”
His hands cupped my backside, and he lifted me onto the counter, my robe sliding off my shoulders. He stood between my legs, his eyes glazing over every inch of my body. “You are so beautiful, Izzie.” He leaned down and sucked on my neck, making my body tense. “I love you, I love you, I fucking love you,” he breathed against my skin.
I raked my fingers through his messy hair and looked into his denim-blue irises. “I fucking love you, too.”
He laughed into the crook of my neck and pulled his boxer briefs over his hips before kicking them across the kitchen floor. With my palms pressed on the counter, I arched my hips, and then he pushed inside me.
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