16. Damiano
Navy elite forces trained me to be a light sleeper. It can be the difference between someone sneaking up on you or you slicing their throat first.
So even though it’s two in the morning, of course I hear Paige’s bare feet padding across the hardwood floor to come find me on the living room couch.
“How come you’re up?” I ask.
She startles, covering her tits with one arm. My angel came to find me in only her tiny panties. Fantasy girl. “I rolled over, and you were gone.”
I have a strict no-sleepover policy, as in, I’ve never slept over at a girl’s place or fallen asleep with a girl in one of the spare bedrooms in Rob’s loft. I’ve never even had a girl in my apartment before today.
No sleepovers, no cuddling after. Until a few hours ago, no kissing. Affection while we’re banging, sure. I’ve been known to worship a woman for hours. But not after. The Cat girls all seem to understand this without me ever having to explain my boundaries.
But Paige isn’t a Cat girl and I can’t tell her any of that, especially since the no-sleepover policy extends to her too. But I also can’t ask her to leave since her apartment isn’t safe, and that’s entirely on me.
So I left her in my bed to come crash on the couch.
For her own good.
If I let her get too close to me, she becomes a target for anyone out there looking to get at me. Back in GOI, the quickest way to get someone to talk wasn’t to hurt them , it was hurting a loved one. Just the threat of hurting a loved one was usually enough. Shitty as fuck, but effective as hell.
And the Bagliateris’ enforcer, Massimo, trains his guys the exact same way. Non mostrare pietà. Show no mercy.
I’ve dragged Paige deep enough into this mess by asking for her help that first night in the park. I’ve put a bullseye on her already, but it would be ten times bigger if the Bagliateris thought I cared about her. So I need to keep my distance. I owe her that much.
But I can’t tell her any of that. Especially after she barged through my no-kissing barrier. Which I fucking loved. I loved how she tasted and I loved how she demanded I give her exactly what she wanted. I loved how soaking wet it made her.
She sits on the edge of the couch, waiting for my answer. Soft light from the kitchen glows behind her like a halo.
“My shoulder hurt in the bed. Thought I’d try the couch.”
“Your shoulder wasn’t bothering you all day.”
I shrug. I can’t tell if she’s trying to call my bluff. “Maybe it was all that exertion?” I motion toward the bedroom.
She smiles at me, then looks away all shy. She liked all that exertion.
“I can give you a massage. Turn.” She tugs at the blanket and pushes my legs aside before I can answer. She rubs her hands together to warm them up, her gorgeous naked tits jiggling side to side. I mean, no way I’m saying no to having her hands on me.
And I’m pretty sure she’s offering me a massage because making me feel good makes her feel good, which right now makes me feel like shit about leaving the bed in the first place. But a topless goddess offering to rub me all over is not something I possess the strength or will to decline.
I sit up and turn so she’s behind me. It’s not a position I love. I prefer to have my back to the wall, no one behind me. Even more so since Paulie fucking shot me. But I quickly ease into perfect comfort with Paige there, her familiar hands on me.
“This looks really good.” She taps next to the wound on the back of my shoulder.
After dinner, I walked her through how to remove the stitches on my back and had her apply a clear Tegaderm dressing. Same on my side. Much more comfortable than the bulky gauze bandages. Plus, the clear dressing means we can keep an eye out for infection without having to change the dressing.
She digs a knuckle into my deltoid.
Oh, fuck yeah. I grunt.
She giggles. “Did you grow up in Italy?”
I nod. “Roma.”
“Is that Rome?”
“Si.”
“What brought you here?”
“My mamma grew up in Chicago, but then she fell for my dad on one of his trips here. She followed him back to Rome, then they had me. We came here every summer to visit my nonna. I loved it here.”
She digs her elbow in. “Lay flat, then tell me more.”
We shift positions so I’m on my stomach and she’s straddling my hips. Her warm thighs press against my sides, my growing hard-on pressing into the couch cushions.
“Nonna died when I was fourteen. Mamma didn’t want to come back to the States after that. But I kept coming anyway. My boss, Rob, his mom took me in those summers. I lived in their house, ate her cooking. She grew up in Italy, so it felt like home away from home.”
Paige presses her thumbs into my left shoulder just right.
“Then I’d go back to Rome for the school year. By then, I was training under my dad. He had the same job I have now, but in Italy working for Rob’s uncle.”
“Is enforcer what you wanted to be when you were little?”
“Always.”
“Living the dream. Wait. If your mom was living in Italy when she passed, how did you get all her plants here?”
“Rob chartered a private jet. That’s not as big of a deal as it sounds though. Whenever there’s a big group of us coming or going, he charters one.”
“Was there a big group for that trip?”
“No. Just Rob and Salvo and me.”
“ My boss—if I still have one, I’ve probably been fired for not going back to work after lunch—is not chartering me any planes. She barely approves my Uber reimbursements when I work late.”
“Rob and Salvo flew out to pay respects, but I think they mostly flew out to make sure I’d come back to the States with them and not stay in Rome.”
“Did you want to stay?” Paige runs her fingernails up and down my back. I may never want to get up, not if it means moving away from her magical hands.
I’d shrug my shoulders but can’t the way I’m lying. “Rob’s uncle is the capo dei capi—that’s the boss of all the bosses of all the Famiglie around the world. He wanted me to stay in Rome and work for him.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I thought about it. But things in Rome had been calm for years, and things here were a complete mess back then. The families were fighting a shit ton. Famiglia business was spilling into the streets, and civilians were getting hurt. Rob’s dad—and therefore Rob—needed more muscle on their side. I’d just finished my second tour with the GOI. It was good timing for a change of scenery. So I got on the plane.”
“I’m a Navy brat. Have I told you that? My dad’s an Airedale and my brother’s a frogman.”
It’s cute that she’s using military slang. “Yes, I knew you were a brat. Lift up a second?” I turn over under her so now she’s straddling my stomach. Much better view this way.
Those fucking nipples. Mozzafiato. Breathtaking.
I grab her hands and lay them on my chest. “Keep rubbing. Are they still enlisted?”
She starts kneading my shoulders, which means she’s leaning down over me with the tips of her long hair ghosting across my chest.
“They’re both lifers. My dad oversees SFTI training back home in San Diego, and Brian does tactical instruction here at Great Lakes. He’s why I moved to Chicago.”
“Are you two close?”
She nods. “We moved around a lot as kids because of my dad. That meant changing friends all the time. We ended up pretty close because of it, even though he’s four years older. He’s my rock.”
“Do you like Chicago?” I run the back of my finger up from her hip, along her side, tracing around her gorgeous tit, then back down. I circle the dolphin tattoo right above her panty line.
“I like it enough. But I miss the beach, and I don’t like the cold. I hate that part actually. No matter how many layers I put on, it’s never enough.”
“Same for me. Winters in Rome are like late Spring here. I only saw snow twice there in my entire life, and it lasted less than a day both times.” Rob and Salvo still make fun of me for wearing a puffy coat, gloves, hat, and a scarf on cold days, but fuck them. I hate being cold.
“Twice still has San Diego beat. But I do love the snow here. Just not the cold part.”
I move my hands down to her thighs, slightly grind her against me. Pretty sure she can feel my stifffie poking at her back.
“If your shoulder’s feeling better, we should go to bed?”
“For sleep?”
She shrugs. “We may have some unfinished business.”
I squeeze both her ass cheeks and grind her down onto me at the same time. Then I slide one hand into her panties from behind, loving how warm it is in there. Everything about this girl is heat and warmth. “Back here?”
“Oh, you think you’ve earned that?”
I nod. I do, I really do.
“Yeah? You think just being a tall, dark, and handsome rabbit whisperer,” her voice hitches as I rub, “is all it takes to get an all-access pass?”
I mean, that’s usually how it works. But I’m always up for a challenge. “You want to make me work for it? Decide if I’m worthy?”
She nods, a wicked gleam in her eye.
I grab her hips, loving the annoyed look she shoots me when my hand leaves her panties. She’s light as a feather as I lift her up a few inches.
“Dom, what are you—” Her voice trails off as it becomes crystal fucking clear what I’m doing when I pull her forward then lower her onto my face. “Yeah. Good idea. This, uh. . . Yeah, okay.”
You want convincing, sweet girl? Let’s let my tongue do the job.