by Zahra Girard
I can’t let the man I love leave like that.
“Wait,” I say, breathing hard with the emotions — anger, frustration, confusion, love — that are swirling in my chest.
He pauses and his face hardly betrays any of the rage that I know has to be simmering just below the surface.
I’m angry. I finally find someone I can trust, that I can open my heart to and tell them that I love them, and then I bring them home to the other important person in my life. Who then proceeds to rip them a new one.
He smiles, trying to play things casual, like what just happened didn’t happen. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow, bella?”
“Don’t go.”
“Look, these things happen. I’m not surprised — I’m not the type you bring home to your parents — and I’m not angry. I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”
He turns to go and I reach out and grab hold of his arm and squeeze it tight. I’m not letting him go.
“No. Look, I am angry about this, even if you aren’t. Just wait here, ok? Don’t go. Please?”
He pauses, and looks at me, considering, and inside, I am just willing him to stay. I finally have someone new — something good — in my life and I’m not going to let tonight of all nights end on the words ‘get the hell out of my house’.
No way I’m letting that pass.
He shrugs — which on it’s own is infuriating in how casual it is — and says “I’ll be in the car.”
I don’t watch him leave. I turn around and storm back inside, my feet pounding like a soldier’s march against the floor. My dad is still sitting at the table, looking so even-keeled I’d hardly believed he’d just kicked someone out of the house.
“What the hell was that?”
My voice is shaking and I keep shifting my weight from one foot to the other, bouncing like I’m in the ring.
My dad looks back at me, and he hardly reacts to how agitated I am.
What is going on here?
“I’m just protecting you from making the kind of mistake you can’t come back from.”
“Are you serious right now?”
“I don’t know if you’re too blind to see it, Stephanie Turner, but he’s lying to you.”
I’m pacing, agitated, glancing from my dad and to the ceiling and back again. Right now, I can’t bare looking at him directly. There’s this all-knowing, condescending look on his face.
As if he has any right to talk about mistakes.
“He’s told me about his past. About what he used to do.”
“And you believe him?”
“Yes, I believe him,” I can feel my voice straining. I’m on the verge of shouting. I want to explode right now. I want to throw something, I want to knock over this table, I want to punch something.
How can he sit there so calm?
“Then you’re lying to yourself. I care about you and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“What right do you even have to say that? The only reason we’re in this mess is because of the choices that you made.”
“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think that maybe that’s the reason I don’t sleep at night? I failed you as a father. I disgraced your mother’s memory and I’m reminded of that every single day. It makes me sick,” his voice breaks, and I can see moisture at the edge of his eyes. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ending it all. Did you know that? I’d sure as hell deserve it. The only thing that keeps me from doing it is knowing that it would end up making life worse for you. In the end, I’d be just another mess for you to clean up.”
I swallow. “Dad, don’t talk like that.”
“You deserve the truth. And the truth is, you are the only thing keeping me going. I’ll be damned if I let anyone hurt you — and if you keep him in your life, that’s where it’s going to end up. There is more going on with that man than he lets on and none of it is good, I promise you that. You can not trust him.”
The last time I saw him this determined, this unwavering, was after my mother died, when my tears had finally dried and he promised that even though I’d lost her, he would do everything he could to make sure that I didn’t lack for the love or opportunity that I deserved.
It’s enough to give me pause. But only for a moment. There’s no way Luca can be anything close to what he’s describing. I know that in my heart as certain as anything else in this life.
Luca’s the only one in my life lately who’s even helped me, who’s made my life better.
I know what I want.
“You’re wrong.”
I turn and I start to the door.
My dad stands up slow, leaning forward on the table for support.
“I can’t stop you, Stephanie. I won’t. But I will always be here for you.”
I’m hardly listening. I slam the door behind me. The crash echoes through the still night air like a gunshot.
Luca’s waiting there for me, leaning back against the door to his BMW, hands in his pockets and faint smile on his face. He opens the car door for me as I approach, and I slide down into the leather seat.
Silently, he gets in next to me. I turn to him.
“Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Stephanie
We speed across town, neither of us talking much.
Tonight went nothing like I wanted.
This was supposed to be the night where my father, the man who has always been by my side met and accepted the only other man in my life who’s managed to make me feel as special and loved.
Instead, they hate each other.
“It’ll be all right, bella,” he says, reaching over to touch my hair. There’s so much unwavering confidence in his voice that it makes me start to believe that what he’s saying is true. “Tonight was just one of those nights. But no matter what, I still love you, and your father will come around.”
“Was it true?” I say quietly, staring out the window at the swirling light and darkness.
It’s started to rain. Big, fat droplets that splash against the windows and refract the light from the streetlamps, making the world seem twisted and distorted, like some kind of dark dream.
I’m already running over tonight’s events in my head. There’s so much to take in, from the fabulous dinner where Luca made me feel like I was the most important woman in town, to meeting my dad, who took to Luca like oil to water and who was as coldly furious as I’ve ever seen him.
And, of all of it, one thing keeps sticking in my mind.
Luca keeps talking like he hasn’t noticed I’m not answering. He’s driving slower than usual, his eyes slowly scanning the darkness, looking around each turn. He must be lost in his own thoughts, too.
“I don’t blame him. I know I don’t look like the kind of man you want coming through your door holding your daughter’s hand.”
“Luca, was it true?”
He doesn’t look away from the road, though we’re on a long straightaway with no cars in sight. “Was what true?”
“About your brother. All those things you said.”
There’s a long quiet, the kind of quiet that makes me think he didn’t hear me and just when I’m about to repeat what I’ve said, he finally talks.
“My brother’s my hero. He was six years older than me and, when my dad let us all down, he was the one that picked our family up on his shoulders and carried us until I was big enough to help out. He did everything,” he says. His eyes are wide and his pupils dilated, like he’s looking through the darkness at something else.
“Before he took his own life, Nico made some mistakes, did some things that he just could not shake. It fucked him up and that’s what pushed him over the edge. He wanted me to get out before I fell, too. He was a better person than me,” he says.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“There’s a lot of days where I think he was wrong. Where I think what he wanted and believed is bullshit, that people can’t change — that I’m not going to change,” he
says, still staring ahead. Then, he looks over at me. “I don’t have those days as much since I met you.”
The car pulls to a stop in front of his apartment build and there’s a quiet, weighty thud against the back seat, like something heavy rolling around in the trunk. I turn my head, just slightly to look back, and then Luca reaches out, taking hold of me by the chin.
“Meeting you has given me a reason to change. I won’t let anything or anyone stop that. Because you’ve given me a purpose. I love you, Stephanie.”
I forget about anything and everything as he kisses me, his searing lips purging all my thoughts in heat. Doubt gives way to desire and I reach up with my own hands, embracing him, pulling him closer to me.
This is as close as I’ve ever been with anyone. He’s given me his innermost thoughts and desires, he’s shown me what he is truly about even though a big part of tonight went so totally wrong.
He loves me. I love him.
A rampaging, thudding drum beats a rapid rhythm in my chest and I’m short of breath when he finally pulls back and fixes me with a megawatt smile. “Let’s go inside.”
* * * * *
We don’t even make it in the building before I’m on him again.
I can’t keep my hands to myself. This handsome, powerful, charming man has had every reason and right to walk away from me, but instead, he keeps coming back for more.
He tries to open the door to the building and the second his back is turned, I see my opportunity. A hard pinch — well, more like a grab, really — to his firm ass gets him to look over his shoulder and I pounce on him, laughing, pressing him against the wall.
He doesn’t fight. Much.
I kiss him and I reach around his back, un-tucking his shirt and running my hands the bare skin of his muscular back. It’s like every part of him is magnetic and I absolutely need to touch all of him right this minute.
He stops trying to open the door. He stops even trying to pretend to open it.
I’m the focus of his lips, his touch, his desire.
I was the aggressor at first, seizing him, kissing him, but now he just overpowers me.
He grabs my wrists and wrenches them behind my back, growling while he nips at my neck and shoulders. I arch my back, pushing myself further against him. His cock is thick and hard in his slacks and pressing firm against my hip.
He shoves me against the wall and grinds into me.
I shut my eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation of him rawly and forcefully kissing and exploring every part of my exposed neck and chest like he wants to eat me alive.
One hand lets go of me and brushes my leg, sliding up and moving my dress aside.
I shiver as he lightly brushes me through the bare, hardly-there panties I only wore because I knew we’d be meeting my dad after dinner and I wanted to seem modest.
“Are you ready? I want you now, Stephanie.”
My eyes shoot open.
He stares right into my eyes, devouring me with his gaze, while he pops one finger into his mouth.
“What if someone sees?”
“Lucky them.”
We’re right on his doorstep. There’s a pub just down the street and, even though it’s late, there’s still people out and about.
“Shouldn’t we go inside?”
“I don’t care. I’ve been thinking about this all fucking day. I want you like I’ve wanted nothing else in my life.”
I try to say something — anything — but I barely part my lips before I feel him slip inside my pussy and then my fumbled protests become a loud, drawn-out moan.
Luca slowly gets to his knees. His hot breath teases my pussy and my body aches for what I know is coming next.
“I can’t wait to make you moan.”
First he kisses me on the lower thigh. Tender, slow, he takes his time teasing me. Then up, up, up until I can feel his hot breath against my pussy and every single part of me is begging and crying out to feel his lips where I need it most.
It starts with a lick. A gentle caress from his tongue that barely grazes me, yet is still enough to make my knees bend and my fingers knot themselves in my dress.
“Fuck, Luca.”
I manage to look down and the sight of him, burning green eyes looking up at me, with this confident smirk on his face while his tongue slowly moves to caress me again, is enough to make me pound the wall.
“You’re sweeter and sexier than any woman I’ve ever now,” he says, still staring up at me. “I could spend all night down here and die a happy man.”
I force my eyes open even though the pleasure washing over me is so intense that it almost hurts.
I want to watch him.
The power and confidence that seems to radiate off him is so sexy. Right here, practically right out in the open, he doesn’t even hesitate to kneel down and take what he wants: me.
His lips surround my clit, coaxing it to full arousal with a gentle suck.
He moans. He moans and I feel every vibration deep within my being.
“I could do this every day,” he whispers.
Then comes his tongue, working with his lips to pull and suck and caress me where I need it most.
Warmth and tingling suffuses my entire body and my hips start moving on their own, swaying and rocking in time with his rhythm.
He waits until I’m into it and then he pauses again, teasing me, leaving my body tingling and wanting more.
He looks up at me with this cocky grin.
“You’re mine, Stephanie,” he says. “My desire, my fantasy, the one I love, the one I lust for, the one I want more than anything else.”
His words, his tongue, his finger, his lips, all propel me higher. It’s like I’m floating, suspended on this ever-rising wave of heat and sensuality.
And then I fall.
I break.
“Luca,” I start to say and then words fail me.
All I can do is shudder and moan.
Sucking, licking, caressing, he brings me down to shatter in this primal explosion of pure ecstasy. My nerves catch fire, my muscles contract and relax and contract again, and I slump forward.
He catches me, holding me upright, back against the wall as he continues to please me.
He won’t let me go until he’s satisfied.
My body is thrumming and fluttering with the most exquisite electric sensation.
It takes forever before I’m back to myself.
The feeling of anything touching me, brushing me, is enough to make me shake and shiver.
Luca pulls back and somehow I’m able to stand on my own.
“That was… that was incredible,” I say, breathlessly.
There’s a devilish smirk on his face. He knows. There was never a shred of doubt in his mind that it would be anything but incredible. He owns my body.
“We’re not done yet,” he says.
Crooking his fingers, he slips them under the waistband of my panties and pulls them down.
“Right here?”
I know what he wants. But there’s something about doing it right here that seems so much more public than what we just did.
He shakes his head. “I want you now.”
He undoes his zipper.
“What if someone sees?” I ask again.
Luca lifts my dress. His fingertips draw burning trails up the back of my legs before digging in to cup my ass.
He grabs and holds me like he owns me.
“I don’t give a damn,” he says, his voice a guttural growl.
He enters me.
The world goes black. Explosions of color burst behind my eyelids and without even realizing it, I’m groaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
So much for modesty.
I can feel every inch of him. Hard and thick and pulsing with lust and his cocky, ‘fuck the world’ attitude.
Strong hands hold me in place, keeping me standing just so, while he takes me.
My body shakes.
Every single thrust roc
ks my body.
He’s not gentle. He doesn’t hold back.
It’s the kind of dark, unrestrained lustful fucking you save for the object of your deepest fantasies.
I’m his fantasy.
I arch my back. I start pushing, pulsing my hips backwards.
My hushed breathing echoes his.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Stephanie,” he gasps. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
I smile. I don’t know what comes over me, but I’m so caught up in how bold and fucking fearless he is, that I can’t hold back.
“I’m yours, Luca. Fuck me like you mean it.”
He pulls out and whips me around, bringing me face to face with him. With one arm, he lifts one of my legs and then he positions himself between them.
I gasp and dig my nails into his back and hold on for dear life as he slides into me again.
We stare into each other’s eyes. Unspeaking, letting our intertwined bodies do all the taking.
I feel, I see, I know just how deeply he wants me.
“Stephanie,” he says, each syllable coming out in a delicious broken gasp.
My body is flush and wet with exertion, but I force my uncooperative hands to lock tighter around his back and I pull myself closer to whisper in his ear. “I’m yours. All of me. Now give me what I want.”
Luca lets loose a slow, smoldering sigh of satisfaction and I feel him lose himself within me. Every twitch, every shudder and shake and shiver inside me is so validating and rewarding that I start giggling uncontrollably.
It’s weird, I know, and as soon as he manages to get control over himself, he gives me a funny look.
Which makes me laugh even more.
“What are you going on about?”
“Us,” I answer.
He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything.
I just feel so close to him. Even with the dark patches in his life, he’s been fearless in letting me in, in letting me find out who he is and what he’s about. To know that he can overcome his issues and that he’ll be by my side while I battle my own problems gives me hope.
It makes me feel brave.
“I’m crazy for you, you know that, right?” I say.
I know he knows, but I just love saying it.
“Nothing makes me happier.”
