No matter the consequences.
"You..." she trails off, swallowing hard. "You won't tell my father about the books?" she asks in a small voice.
There it is. Vulnerability. And it's all because of some free books?
"No. I won't. I won't tell him about the pills either."
I don't know if I'm making a mistake by not taking advantage of it further, but I've never been one to prefer easy conquests. And Gianna at my beck and call because I have something on her? No. I'd rather she came to me because she craves my touch. Because I'm the only one who can provide her with what she needs the most.
Her eyes widen. "Why?"
"Because I want you, Gianna."
And because I will have you.
Chapter Eight
"Is there something you're not telling us?" Lindsay asks, her tone suggestive as she pokes my side.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I reply, a bored expression on my face.
"Come on! He hasn't taken his eyes off you the entire night!"
"He's my bodyguard. It's his job." I roll my eyes at her.
"But he's not watching you like that." She makes a funny face. "He's watching you like..." she pauses to think.
"Like?"
"Like he's ready to whisk you away any moment and have his wicked way with you," she giggles, the alcohol clearly having gone to her head.
"He's my bodyguard." I repeat. "Besides," I lift my hand to tuck my hair behind my ear, "have you seen him? I would die before I associated with... that," I add in a disgusted tone.
Both Anna and Lindsay burst into laughter, and the matter is promptly forgotten.
Lindsay is not wrong, however. Sebastian does look at me like that, and sometimes the intensity of his gaze scares me. But not in the way most things usually scare me. No, it's in a much more debilitating way, because it's stripping every protective layer I have on, ready to lay me bare for him to devour me.
Even now, as I sneak a peek at him, he's watching me closely, that smug smile still on his face. He's dressed entirely in black, and the suit does nothing but emphasize his impressive physique.
My cheeks burn as I remember the way he'd looked at the hospital, when the doctor had cut the shirt off his body. His chest had been pure muscle. Strong and manly, it had looked like a work of art, the hard planes of his stomach drawing my attention lower, to the v of his hips, all leading down to...
Damn!
Not for the first time, I feel a flush envelop my body as I imagine him in the nude. And I have. God, but I have. I've even had dreams where he...
I close my eyes to calm myself, my breathing already harsh, my body covered in goosebumps.
I don't know what it is about him that makes me react so. I've been numb for so long that it's even more surprising that all it takes is for me to think about his body—his strong, threatening body—and I'm wet.
The gathering continues well after midnight, and I pretend I'm enjoying myself as I chat a little with everyone. Of course, he needs to think I'm enjoying myself.
After he'd snooped through my phone, I'd been terrified that he'd try to use that over my head too. More than anything, I'd felt completely naked as he'd looked into my eyes, inquiring about my collection of books.
Damn it!
I thought I'd hidden the folder well, but if he can find it, then so can my father at the next inspection.
All night I'd tried to think of ways to better hide the books, knowing that if my father got wind of them, I'd be in a lot of trouble. That Sebastian hadn't used that opportunity to make me do more things for him...
My cheeks are already red as my mind conjures some scenarios he could have blackmailed me into.
But he hadn't. He hadn't even tried to hold my pills over my head again.
My gaze skitters to him, my teeth nibbling at my bottom lip. I admit that I can't help but be curious about him. Just when I think he's going to do something, he surprises me by doing something completely different.
Saying goodbye to everyone, I nod to Sebastian as I pass by him, heading to the car.
It's becoming harder and harder to ignore the way his proximity affects me. It's enough to feel his body heat next to mine that I break out in shivers, my skin covered in goosebumps, my breath labored.
It's taken me a while to make peace with the fact that I am, indeed, attracted to him—much to my dismay. And if I allow for extra sincerity, I have felt like this since the first meeting, the reason why I'd reacted so vehemently to his appointment as my bodyguard. Because having him near me at all times has only exacerbated those feelings.
And at night... it's even worse.
Knowing he sleeps in the room next to mine fills me with thoughts that should have never made their home in my mind. And lately, even my dreams have become filled with him.
With the way his mouth had felt on my breast, or his hot breath on my skin, teasing the surface and increasing my frustration. But most of all, I can't escape his voice. That deep, rumbly voice that whispered dirty words in my ear, detailing all the things he'd do to me.
I clench my thighs, moisture pooling between them as my thoughts become increasingly graphic.
Damn my body for betraying me like this.
I sneak a peek at his profile.
He's focused on driving, the road dark, almost no other cars on the driveway at this hour.
I can make out the scar on his left side, the one that crosses his forehead and disappears into his hairline. It's a harsh, jagged line, and for the first time I stop to wonder how he got it. Because it doesn't look accidental. No, it looks like someone dragged a knife across his face in some type of monstrous revenge.
A shiver goes down my back as I remember a similar experience. A long blade pressed to my face, a vile voice commanding me to be quiet or suffer the consequences, strong, unyielding hands holding me down.
My breath hitches, my fingers tightening on my armrest as I try to control myself.
It's not often that I find myself thinking back to that event. Years of mental exercises have helped me push the memory back, but little things like sights, smells... touches, can trigger it. And when it hits, it's usually full force.
Like now.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, trying to think of something else. But the pain hits me again, my chest constricting, my throat clogging up.
I swallow hard, trying to banish his image from my mind.
I can't let him win. Not again.
But no matter how much I tell myself that, my reaction is as severe as always.
My limbs start trembling uncontrollably, my mouth dry as I continue to swallow non-existent saliva.
"S..." my teeth are clattering, the words hard to make out. "Stop t-the c-car," I manage to grit out, my hand suddenly on his arm.
He turns to me, frowning slightly.
I tighten my fingers on his arm, digging my nails in his flesh. "Stop," I repeat.
He must note the urgency in my tone, because he does stop by the side of the road. I fumble with my seatbelt before pushing the door open, gasping for air as I jump out of the car and head towards an open field.
Still, nothing helps.
The night air blowing in my face, I pant like I've just run a marathon. And no matter how much I try to catch my breath, I can't.
My pulse is through the roof, my heart beating so hard it feels like it's going to jump out of my chest. My knees feel weak as I all but fall to the ground, the soft grass breaking my fall. I bring my fist to my chest, thumping it against my ribcage in an attempt to alleviate the pressure inside.
"Gianna?' I think I hear a voice, the mental fog clouding my perception. "Gianna?"
A hand touches my back, and it's all it takes to make me lose myself even more, the mere touch making me hyperventilate.
"Shit! Look at me," he whispers, slowly turning me to face him. I try to blink some clarity in my eyes, but everything's so blurry, I can barely make out the outline of his body.
>
"Shh, here," he says, one hand slowly stroking my hair while the other extends in front of me, offering me something.
I frown, unable to understand what he wants me to do. But as he presses his hand to my mouth, prying my lips open and pushing a pill inside, I realize what he's trying to do.
I nearly choke on the pill, my throat too dry to swallow it without water. But after a couple of tries, I manage to get it down.
"Shh, it's ok," he speaks in a soft voice, his knuckles moving slowly down my back in a sweet caress.
My gasps for air soon turn into hiccups as I start to regain control of my body. The pill is starting to calm me down, already my heartbeats slowing down, my breathing more regulated.
"Thank you," I whisper when I can finally utter the words.
Tilting my head towards him, I note he's on his knees in front of me, a worried expression on his face.
"What happened?" he asks, no trace of his previous smugness. Instead, he actually sounds... concerned.
"Nothing," I immediately reply, forcing myself to get up.
It's enough that he saw me in the throes of an attack. I don't want him to know more things he could use as leverage in the future.
Dusting my knees and removing some of the grass from my dress, I turn to head back to the car.
"What was that, Gianna? Don't lie to me." His fingers circle my wrist as he stops me, his voice gave.
"I told you," I roll my eyes at him, easily slipping my usual mask in place. "Nothing. Now let me go. I want to get home and sleep." I swipe his hand aside, continuing towards the car.
"Is this why you need the Xanax? You're not going anywhere until you answer me," he declares, plopping himself in front of me.
"I don't owe you any answers," I push at his shoulder, purposefully aiming for his injured side. It's only been a few days since he's gotten it, so it must still hurt like a bitch.
His cheek twitches as my hand makes contact with the area, but he doesn't give away that it's paining him. Instead, he traps my hand in place, squeezing my wrist and bringing me closer to his body.
"You don't. But you will tell me," he states, back to his usual self-assuredness.
"Really?" A sardonic smile pulls at my lips. "Make me," I whisper, leaning towards him.
But just as he's about to reply to my dare, a loud noise comes from the direction of the car. The wind is knocked out of me as I end up on the ground, my back hitting the ground.
I groan in pain, especially as I open my eyes to see the mutt on top of me, his entire body covering my own.
"Get off me," I grit, shoving him aside.
He rolls to the grass, covering his forehead with the back of his hand.
"Damn," he curses.
Getting myself together, I raise myself into a sitting position, my eyes going wide when I see what had been the source of the noise.
"The car..." I whisper, watching the flames enveloping what's left of the car.
"You could have said thank you," he mutters dryly, joining me, "since I did shield you with my body," he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
"That was a bomb, wasn't it?" I ask, ignoring him. My gaze is still fixed on the wreckage.
Shit! That could have been us.
He nods grimly.
"But... who would want to kill me?" There's a slight tremor in my voice as I turn to look at him. His lips are set in a thin line, his features rigid.
"Not you," he replies and I frown. "Your father," he corrects, telling me that he'd had to switch cars last minute because the engine had died on our regular car.
"But who..." I shake my head, unable to come to grips with the fact that I'd barely escaped death.
"Best ask that of your father." He gets to his feet, extending a hand to help me up.
"How are we going to get home, then? Please tell me you have your phone with you," I plead, since I'd left my own in the car.
"No," he states grimly. "I left it on my seat."
"Damn!" I curse out loud.
How is this happening to me? How am I this freaking unlucky?
"I think it will take us a couple of hours to reach home," he states pensively. "Maybe more since it's night," he looks at his watch.
"You mean to walk home?" I ask, scandalized.
It's an hour drive away. I can't imagine walking that distance.
"Come on, sunshine. Nothing better than fresh air and some midnight exercise," he winks at me, already walking ahead of me.
"You have to be kidding me. Sebastian!" I yell after him, trying to catch up. "I'm not walking home. Go by the street and hitchhike me a car or whatever."
He stops, turning and studying me with an amused smile.
"You want me to hitchhike for you?" He repeats, as if it's the most outrageous thing.
"Of course. I'm not walking," I cross my arms over my chest. "And that's final," I push my chin up so he can see I'm serious about this.
"Fine," he shrugs, and I'm surprised at his easy acquiesce. "I'll see you home," he says before turning and walking once more.
"Sebastian!" I shout after him when I see he is serious about leaving me here. By myself.
"You're my bodyguard. You're hired to protect me. Not to leave me in the middle of nowhere, with a burning car, no cell phone, and no shoes fit for walking," I yell.
And to prove my point, I take off one of my heels and throw it at his back.
Just as it hits him, he stops, slowly turning towards me.
"Can't you stop your tantrums for once?"
"Tantrums? Should I remind you that you're the employee and I'm your boss?"
"Oh, so you're playing the boss card now?" He arches an eyebrow.
"You can't just leave me here!"
"I don't know if you realized, sunshine, but there are no cars driving around here," he points to the empty street. "But suit yourself and wait for one. Who knows, they might take pity on you if you play your cards right."
"What..." I frown, "what do you mean?" I grit my teeth at him.
"There's only one reason a woman would be alone around here at night, Gianna. And dressed like that," he nods to my dress, "they're going to expect a performance."
"You..." I seethe, baring my teeth at him in anger. "You're implying..."
"I'm not implying anything. I'm telling you the reality. No one is going to believe you're anything but a hooker," his eyes move over my body. "Maybe a high class hooker, but one nonetheless."
"I'm not a prostitute," I all but yell at him.
"Right," he smirks. "You don't charge for it."
My mouth drops open in shock, outrage written all over my features.
Before I even know what I'm doing, I'm on him, tackling him with my body.
"You're a fucking asshole," I push at his shoulders, itching to scratch him and feel his blood under my nails.
"Always so ready to hit me," he drawls, his arm easily immobilizing me. "Why so violent, sunshine? If you like it rough, you just have to say it. I'm ready to accommodate you."
There's something oddly annoying about his arrogant smile. The way he looks down at me and mocks me right to my face. But more than anything, I hate the way he gets to me, making me angrier than I've ever been.
"I'm going to kill you," I spit the words out, frustration mounting when he subdues me with just a few moves.
Not one to give up though, I do something that surprises him.
Jumping on him, I wrap my legs around his waist and wound my arms around his neck, ready to use my head to hit him. I'm so heated from the argument, that all I can think of is causing him bodily harm—no matter how.
His big hands come to rest at the junction between my hips and my waist, holding me close to him.
Before I lose my courage, I tilt my head back, bringing it into him at full force.
Instead of hitting him, though, I hit empty air, his chuckle reaching my ears as he moves his head to the side.
"You're a bloodthirsty little thing, aren't you?" He murmurs
, his voice sending shivers down my back.
I blink, my gaze meeting his.
His irises are an even deeper gray than before, the color so cold it makes the hairs on my body stand up. His mouth is curled up in half a smirk, but as he sees me looking at him, it slowly dies down.
There's an intensity to the way he looks at me. His eyes are like two whirlpools, sucking the life out of me even when I'm not ready to surrender.
I don't know how it happens. I don't know who reaches first for the other.
All I know is that one moment I'm staring at him and thinking six other ways to draw blood, and the next my lips are on his, my teeth clashing against his in what I can only describe as a violent mashing of the mouths.
It's not a kiss. It can't be a kiss when all I want is to rip the flesh off his mouth. And as I bite down on his lower lip, I can only enjoy the hiss of pleasure mixed with pain that escapes him.
I suck it into my mouth, clamping my teeth down on it until blood breaks free, coating my tongue. But I don't let go. No, I can't let go.
His hand goes higher up my back as he brings my chest flush against his. He's so strong, he can easily hold my entire body mass in the air as his mouth simply devours me.
He doesn't hold anything back. And neither do I.
His tongue probes into my mouth, meeting mine and stroking it in a tantalizing dance that heats up my entire body, my own blood boiling in my veins and seeking to be let free.
I feel mindless as I claw at him, using my nails not as I intended, but damned near the same thing.
Everywhere he touches he leaves a trail of fire behind, and as he devours my mouth in a searing claiming, I feel myself melt against him. Every bone in my body turns to jelly, the desire to do harm slowly morphing into one of being consumed.
My core aches in a way it's never done before, and I feel the wetness that drips out of me, drenching my panties.
He drags my body lower and I can feel the tip of his erection settle right between my folds. His hands on my ass, he starts kneading the cheeks, moving me slowly over that hard part of him and stimulating that spot between my legs.
Frivolous: A DARK MAFIA AGE-GAP ROMANCE Page 12
