Chapter Twenty-Five
ORAZIO
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Orazio’s sleek black car pulled up in front of an exclusive boutique in Biloxi’s most upscale district. The sun reflected off his tinted windows as he stepped out, strode to the other side of the car, and opened the passenger door.
As he extended his hand to help Monique out, he told her, “Let’s find you a dress fit for a queen.”
Taking his hand, she stepped from the vehicle, gaze drawn to the high heels in the store window. Fingers intertwined, they walked into the boutique. He nodded to the manager when they entered the store.
Inside, Orazio’s gaze followed Monique as she wandered between racks of gowns, her fingers brushing the silky fabrics. A sales assistant approached him, her smile a bit too wide as she leaned in, invading his personal space.
A cloud of perfume accompanied her, nearly choking him. He swallowed to keep from coughing as he took a step away from her. Apparently, she didn’t notice it.
“Can I help you find something for your...friend?” she asked, voice dripping with insinuation and an invitation. Both were an insult to Raz.
“Actually,” Orazio replied coolly, his eyes never straying from Monique. “You can direct all your questions to my fiance . I’m just here to pay for whatever she wants.”
The assistant’s smile faltered briefly before widening once more.
“How can I put this nicely?” the blonde started, eyes on Monique, who was busy looking at dresses. “We don’t usually cater to women her size. So, there aren’t many dresses here she’d look good in.”
This bitch! Clutching his hands into fists, he reminded himself that he didn’t hurt women as he glared at the sales assistant. She’d wanted his attention. Now, she had it. The look on his face silenced her.
Raz tore his gaze from the blonde and motioned for the store manager to come over. The blonde saw this and started to walk away.
“Don’t move,” Orazio ordered, gaze drifting to Monique to ensure she was still preoccupied with pretty dresses. She was.
“I-I have work to d-do,” the assistant stuttered, staring down at her nails.
“How can I put this nicely?” Orazio told her. “This store doesn’t allow people like you to work here.”
The woman looked up at him, shocked eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have said it. And you’ll never speak like that about anyone in this store again.”
When the manager arrived, Raz told her what had just happened.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Cattaneo. I’ll take care of it.”
“I want her fired,” Orazio insisted.
“Yes, sir. Consider it done.” The manager glared at the blonde. “Come on, Amy. I’ve told you to watch your attitude twice before. Now, it’s time to turn in your badge.”
The sales assistant huffed but complied, her heels clicking angrily against the polished floor as she walked away, following the manager to the back of the store. Thankfully, Monique hadn’t heard any of the exchange. She was too busy asking a different sales clerk about a particular dress.
“Found anything yet?” Orazio called out, settling into a plush armchair in the waiting area. He had to call her twice more to get her attention.
Monique grinned, holding up several options. “I think I have some contenders.”
“Let’s see them, then.”
“Look,” she said, holding them up higher.
“I want to see you in them.”
“You want me to try them on?” she whispered, moving closer to him.
“No need to whisper. We’re the only customers here. And yes, I want to see you in them.”
She stared down at the clothing, then shrugged. “Why not? I’ll try them on.”
Monique disappeared into the dressing room and emerged in a new gown. Each time she stepped out, her eyes sought Orazio’s approval. He took in every detail – the way the fabric hugged her hips, the tantalizing glimpse of cleavage, the curve of her neck as she tilted her head, posing differently in each gown.
“Next,” he said again and again, enjoying the game they were playing, the electricity crackling between them as Monique twirled and posed for him.
She stepped out in one sexy number that was sheer in some places, providing him with glimpses of her pretty brown skin. He couldn’t let anyone else see her in that. That was something she could only wear for him. Raz shook his head.
“Yeah, this one is a little too much, huh?” she said, turning her back to him.
The back was completely sheer. Staring over her shoulder at him, Monique winked. Damn, he wished he was that dress right now.
“I’ll go take it off,” she purred.
This woman! She had no idea how hard she had him. Or maybe she did. His little tease added an extra sway to her hips before disappearing into the dressing room. He shifted in his seat, trying to get more comfortable.
Finally, she stepped out in a stunning black dress that seemed to be made just for her. It wrapped around her body like liquid night, accentuating her curves and making her brown skin glow.
“Ah, there it is,” Orazio murmured, not even trying to hide his satisfaction. “You look fucking breathtaking, Monique.”
The sales clerk next to him giggled and gave Monique two thumbs up. His Rosa smiled, practically glowing with happiness. He couldn’t believe this woman was his, all his. Her cheeks flushed with pleasure as she met his gaze.
“Thank you, Orazio. This is the one. I love it.”
“I love you ,” he told her, voice low and seductive as he slowly approached her.
“Behave,” she whispered, gaze lowered, revealing a shyness he adored.
If they were alone, he’d take his time fucking her in each dress she’d tried on. Maybe he’d do that later because he was purchasing every item she’d touched.
“Since this is the one, I’ll get dressed so we can leave.”
Raz nodded as he stared at her body. Monique noticed his look and laughed. The sound was music to his ears as she retreated to the dressing room one last time. He motioned for the sales associate to come over.
When she did, he told her to add all the dresses Monique had tried on to his account and have them shipped to his home.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Cattaneo.”
The woman had just walked away when Monique returned.
“Ready?” Monique asked, emerging in her casual clothes, the black dress draped over her arm.
“Always,” Orazio replied, a wicked grin crossing his lips as he approached her.
“I told you to behave,” Monique whispered when he reached her side.
“I’m trying. It’s hard.”
She caught on to his joke. “Is it?”
“So damn hard,” he whispered.
“Poor baby. I’ll take care of it soon.”
He couldn’t wait until they made it home, and she kept her promise. On the way out, they passed a rack with colorful scarves hanging from it.
“Can I buy a scarf?” Monique asked.
He raised his eyebrow, wondering why she was grabbing a hot pink scarf that didn’t compliment her dress. Not questioning it, he nodded to the sales associate.
“Take it,” he told Monique.
“We don’t have to go up and pay?”
“They’ll add it to my card.”
“You bring women here a lot, huh?” She side-eyed him.
“My cousin owns this boutique. She makes us all buy at least one thing a year. Usually, I buy something for her to keep her from nagging me. She’s going to be happy and shocked with my purchases today.”
“Oh, okay. Can I have a small bag for the scarf?”
He wasn’t sure why she needed a small bag for it, but if she wanted it, it was hers. The sales associate approached with a little black bag.
Monique slid the scarf inside. Smiling, she told him, “Thank you for the dress and scarf.”
“You’re welcome, love.”
When they made it to the car, he hung the dress on the hook in the back and helped her into the passenger seat. He walked around to his side, his gaze darting left then right, checking his surroundings. It was a habit.
Orazio slid behind the wheel. And then they were off, headed back to his beach house where they could be alone again. They were ten minutes into their drive when, from the corner of his eye, he saw Monique pulling her scarf from the bag.
He returned his eyes to the road but could feel her moving beside him. He tensed when he felt her fingers at his belt, unbuckling it slowly. He glanced down briefly before returning his gaze to the road. Her fingers slid into his pants, then dipped into the opening of his boxers.
“Monique, what are you doing? Put your seat belt back on,” he managed to choke out, voice strained with arousal as she freed his cock.
“I’m doing something I’ve been wanting to do since I saw you watching me try on those dresses,” she replied, her breath warm against his ear as she leaned against him.
Her voice sent shivers down his spine, and he bit back a moan as she draped the scarf over his cock and then wrapped her hand around it, gripping him tightly.
“Keep your hands on the wheel at all times, Mr. Cattaneo,” she commanded, and he complied without question, his knuckles turning white.
Monique leaned closer, her soft lips brushing against his neck as her hand stroked his throbbing cock.
“Tell me how this feels,” she whispered, her fingers dancing over his length as she stroked him through the pretty pink scarf she’d picked up earlier.
“Fuck, Monique,” he groaned, struggling to keep his eyes on the road as she continued her slow, torturous strokes. “You’re going to kill me.”
“Maybe,” she teased, her voice low and dangerous. “But what a way to die, hmm? Tell me what you need, Orazio.”
“Harder,” he growled, his breathing ragged as she tightened her grip, sliding the scarf up and down his shaft, pumping him harder.
“Like this?” Monique asked, her voice dripping with feigned innocence. “Or do you need more?”
“More,” he rasped, his control slipping away as she increased the pressure, her movements growing more forceful.
“Rosa,” Orazio moaned, the name a plea and a prayer as her strokes brought him closer to the edge.
He gripped the steering wheel tightly in an effort to keep the car on the road. Her fingers moved faster, the pink scarf smoothly gliding over his erection.
“Tell me you want this,” Monique demanded, her voice sultry and teasing.
“Fuck, yes,” he gasped, his eyes drifting shut briefly as he fought to maintain control. “I want it, Monique. I want this. I want you. I want forever.”
“That’s my good boy,” she purred, her words sending a shiver up his spine.
He should be angry with her for calling him a boy. So why the hell had her words brought him closer to his orgasm? Her pace quickened, the silky material sliding against his skin in a way that threatened to undo him completely. His hips bucked. His feet pressed harder on the gas.
“Slow down,” she whispered before gently biting his earlobe. “We don’t want to go too fast now, do we?”
Damn it, woman!
“Monique... I can’t hold back much longer,” Orazio warned, his voice barely more than a whisper as he sensed his orgasm approaching like a freight train.
“Then don’t,” she said, her tone filled with wicked satisfaction. “Cum for me, Mr. Cattaneo.”
His fragile grip on his control snapped. He cried out Monique’s name as he climaxed, the pleasure rocketing through him like lightning. His body shook with the force of his release as Monique caught his cum in the scarf, preventing it from getting on his clothes.
So, this was why she’d wanted the scarf! As he panted, still reeling from the intensity of his orgasm, he watched in awe as she removed the scarf from his cock. She placed it back in the small black bag from the boutique and tossed the bag onto the floorboard. His little vixen wasn’t done surprising him yet.
“It seems I left a little behind,” she whispered before leaning down and licking away the remaining traces from his cock. “Is that what you needed?” she asked, staring up at him with a sly smile on her face.
“More than you’ll ever know,” he replied breathlessly, heart still racing. “You...” he paused. “You never cease to amaze me, Monique Rose.”
“Good,” she replied, leaning back in her seat as she wiped her fingers across the corners of her mouth.
He drove in silence, mind replaying what had just happened. A smile curved across his face. Monique Rose. Rosa. The woman he loved. He’d always felt his life was missing something.
Now, he knew it hadn’t been missing something . It had been missing someone . And he’d found her in his casino. Orazio had hit the jackpot when it came to love. A drop of rain splashed against his windshield, then another.
“Those clouds look dark,” Monique observed. “I don’t know if I told you this, but I have a fear of bad weather.”
Raz pressed harder on the gas. “I’ll get us home before it gets bad.”
Damn it. Now the weather was fucking up his plans. Did the universe not want him to take Monique out for dinner? Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“It looks like we may not be able to dine out tonight,” Raz muttered.
“There’s always tomorrow night,” she said, smiling.
Raz smiled but remained silent. Tomorrow night, he’d have blood on his hands. Tomorrow night, he’d set his villain side free to wreak havoc. Tomorrow night, he’d be busy burying bodies.
Tonight, he was supposed to be charming her. Tonight, he was supposed to show her he wasn’t all bad. There was good in him.
“Don’t look so sad,” she told him. “We can stay in. Our night isn’t ruined. You can teach me how to cook a traditional Italian dinner.”
He glanced over at her. “You really okay with staying in?”
“As long as I’m with you, Orazio, I’m okay with anything.”
This woman . Raz stared back at the road as the rain fell harder. His mind was replaying her words over and over again. As long as I’m with you, Orazio, I’m okay with anything. Would she still feel that way after he returned from his killing spree? Would she start to hate him once she learned he’d killed her ex-husband?