8. Gemma
Chapter 8
Gemma
I didn’t know what I was thinking when I agreed to this one date with Sasha.
As I got dressed, it sank in that I was only encouraging his delusions. In his mind, we were a couple, so going out together would only validate that idea.
I just couldn’t say no when he finally asked me out, even though I knew better.
After a lifetime of being mistreated by men, something came alive inside me when our hands touched. A physical connection I could ignore, but the way he grew concerned about my well-being stirred a longing in my heart, a desperation to be loved and cared for.
He might have initially come off as batshit crazy, but during the nights he’d spent cozied up to the bar while I worked, I realized he was harmless. As he’d described, he was practically a puppy. In my whole life, I’d never seen someone smile so much. I mean, what was the deal with that?
Life wasn’t sunshine and rainbows. I knew that better than anyone. It was messy and, in my case, painful.
Or maybe that’s just how it worked in the fucked-up world I’d been raised in. Happy endings didn’t exist there, and most men knew they weren’t going to die of old age.
I didn’t know how the rest of the world lived. Perhaps that’s what tonight was about. Research into what “normal” looked like—to see if I liked it and wanted to give it a real try.
Truthfully, I wasn’t sure I had it in me. The damage done in my early years went too deep.
Sasha texted that he was only five minutes away, so I painted my lips a cherry red, pursing them together in the mirror before dropping onto my bed to slip on my heels. Fall was in full swing, and I tried to put it out of my mind that the only date-appropriate dress I had was the long-sleeved one I’d worn to my cousin’s wife’s funeral.
Ultimately, this dress was symbolic of my freedom. I’d last worn it the day I realized that I had to get out of Chicago, away from my family, before I became the next Bellini woman being lowered into the ground.
Death and destruction were all I’d ever known, and the man whose knock just sounded on my front door was the polar opposite. He was happiness and light and joy, and I was curious if being near him meant that some of that might rub off onto me.
Here goes nothing.
Carefully stepping down the stairs, I turned the doorknob, and my breath caught in my throat.
There stood Sasha, dressed in a navy blue suit paired with a white shirt left unbuttoned at the collar. His golden hair was pulled away from his face, bringing attention to his sharp jawline. Even though I wore heels, he towered over me, and for some reason, that gave me a small thrill. I’d never been considered “small,” but Sasha made me feel tiny. I kind of liked it.
That dazzling white smile that was ever-present on his handsome face widened when he noticed I was checking him out. Amused, he asked, “Like what you see?”
My eye roll was automatic. “Shut up.” Stepping backward, trying to escape the chill of this late-November evening, I asked, “You want to come in for a minute?”
“Sure.” Sasha crossed the threshold, closing the door behind him. When he turned around, that’s when I saw the package in his hands. Holding it out to me, he explained, “I know you’re not a fan of flowers, so I went in a different direction.”
Cautiously, I reached out to accept whatever gift he’d brought me. The tiniest hint of a smile curved on my lips as I remarked, “I don’t dislike flowers. I just didn’t love the way you went about sending them.”
He shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “Get used to being spoiled, Kitten, because I intend to do so for a very long time.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I promised you one date, remember?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Sasha stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “We’re soulmates.”
Crazy has entered the chat.
Giving him a noncommittal hum, I slipped the ribbon off the box. Pulling back the lid revealed a set of twelve individually wrapped spheres in various colors.
My brows drew down. “What are these?”
“Bath bombs.”
“What?” My eyes snapped up to meet his.
Head cocking to the side, he surveyed me. “Are you telling me you don’t know what bath bombs are?”
Heat rose to my cheeks. Why did it feel like I was supposed to know?
“Um—” I began, trying to figure out how to fake my way through this.
Sasha let out a low whistle. “Damn, baby. Have you never been pampered before?”
Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I dropped my gaze to the floor, shaking my head and whispering, “No.”
“That’s going to change. Starting right this minute, you hear me?” When his hands covered mine on the box, I jumped, and he immediately pulled back. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
Trembling from head to toe, I gave him the least convincing “I’m fine” in the history of the world.
It became clear in that moment that my trauma was too much for a man like Sasha. I’d only drag him down.
“Listen.” I sighed. “This was a nice idea, but I don’t think I’m up for it.”
There was a rustling of fabric, and before I knew it, the giant man was crouched before me, putting himself directly in my line of sight. Concern lit up his bright blue eyes, and my heart twisted. No one had ever looked at me like that before—not my father, not my brother, not my cousins. They were too concerned with themselves to ever care too much about me.
But this man?
The one who hadn’t batted an eyelash when I had a total meltdown, aiming my anger and frustration at him?
The one who had patiently sat at my bar, night after night, waiting until I was ready to give him the time of day?
The one who had instantly been on alert at the idea of someone having hurt me in the past?
The one who wanted to take care of me simply because he could?
It felt like he could see me .
And damn, if that didn’t scare the shit out of me.
“Gemma.” My name fell so softly from his lips that it almost sounded like a prayer. “I’m here, not just right now in your home, but in your life. Let me show you how you deserve to be treated. Please .”
It was the please that did me in. Men in my life didn’t use that word. They demanded and took what they wanted when it suited them.
My teeth dug into my lower lip so hard I could taste blood, but I managed to nod.
Sasha extended a hand and eased the box of bath bombs from my grip before rising to his full height. I tracked the move, my gaze shifting with it.
“For the record, you drop one of these in a hot bath, and they fizz, releasing essential oils and nourishing powders that aid in your relaxation. Just thought it might be something nice for your downtime. I’m sure after a long night tending bar, you could use it.”
A rush of air flew past my lips. “That was really thoughtful. Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.”
How could he not see that it was everything to me? That the gesture meant more than the physical item?
No one had ever taken the time to put me first. Not once.
“Can we start over?” Sasha asked, hope written on his face.
I ducked my head. “I’d like that.”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode to the door, opening it before stepping through and closing it behind him. The next thing I knew, he was knocking from the other side.
A smile snuck onto my face at how seriously he took what appeared to be our re-do.
Stepping forward, I twisted the doorknob, only to come face-to-face with Sasha leaning in, one hand on the doorframe. Hungry eyes scanned my form, and he let out a low groan. Voice rough, he uttered, “Goddamn, Gemma. You look fucking delicious.”
A sound that could only be described as a giggle worked its way up my throat. It was so foreign that I slapped a hand over my mouth in shock.
The sparkle in Sasha’s blue eyes betrayed he was pleased by my reaction.
He made me feel like someone new, someone without dark shadows lurking around them, and I found myself wanting to be that person.
Embracing the persona he brought out in me, I tossed him a wink and a smirk. “You clean up pretty nice yourself.”
“Oh, this old thing?” He plucked at the fabric of his jacket, downplaying what I could tell was an expensive suit.
“The hair too.” I huffed out a laugh, remembering how ridiculous I’d thought he would look with a man bun and realizing how very wrong I was. He looked hot as sin.
Beaming, Sasha touched the side of his head. “Oh, so, you do like it?”
“It’s growing on me.”
“You wanna grab your coat? Our reservation is at six.”
I nodded, stepping aside to grab a silver wrap that was laid over the back of the couch.
“My dark angel,” I heard murmured from behind me.
Spinning around, I eyed Sasha. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” He rubbed a palm over his chest. “Just can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you look tonight.”
Accepting compliments wasn’t something I did well. Most likely, it stemmed from nearly four decades’ worth of comments pointing out every flaw I possessed until, at some point, I began to believe there weren’t any decent qualities to be found.
I watched men flirt every day at the bar, their smooth lines designed to get women into bed. But that’s not what Sasha was doing now. The intensity in his eyes told me he truly believed that I was beautiful, and for the first time, I found myself believing, too.
Before I could thank him, Sasha spoke again. “Can I make a request?”
Dropping a hand to my cocked hip, I huffed playfully, “Kinda in the middle of your last request.”
Laughter boomed from his chest, falling over me like a weighted blanket, offering comfort.
“You are very right about that, but let’s call this Request 1A as it pertains to the original request.”
“I’m listening.”
Stepping closer, he flashed me his signature grin. “For the purposes of the full dating experience, I’d like free rein to touch you.” I stiffened immediately, and he sighed. “I know it’s not something you enjoy, and I’m sure there’s a reason behind it. But I need you to know you’re safe with me, Gemma. I would never hurt you.”
I should have said no, placing focus on maintaining boundaries. That’s what the logical part of my brain demanded at his request.
But then there was this other part—a deeply hidden part—that couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to allow him to show me genuine affection. Because, let’s face it, in his mind, we were already together, and he wanted to act as if that were truly the case.
If I didn’t say yes, I knew I would always look back on this moment and think what if?
So, against my better judgment, I offered him the tiniest hint of a smile and agreed with a single word. “Okay.”
“That’s my girl,” Sasha whispered before his warm palm came to rest on the side of my neck.
An instinct I didn’t know I possessed had me leaning into his touch. That paw was massive, the fingers curling all around to the other side, but the hold was gentle, tender.
Instantly, I believed his words. He would never hurt me.
And my heart felt freer just being in his presence.
“Ready to go?” His eyes searched mine.
Licking my lips, I swallowed, nodding. “Yeah.”
That hand slid down my arm, coming to rest at the small of my back as he guided me through the front door. He maintained physical contact while I locked up behind us. Tangling our fingers together, he provided support as I navigated the porch steps in heels before opening the passenger side of his electric blue sports car parked behind my coupe.
“Surprised a big guy like you can fit behind the wheel of something like this,” I remarked, scanning the flashy ride.
Sasha chuckled, easing me inside before pressing his hands against the frame and leaning in.
“I have a knack for working my way into tight spaces.”
My lips parted on an exhale, my thighs clenching automatically.
The heat blazing in his blue eyes told me he knew exactly how his words had affected me.
Yeah, I was in big trouble.
A thumb traced over my bottom lip, and a low groan sounded from the man staring at me like I was his next meal.
Before I could do something stupid like draw that digit into my mouth, Sasha pulled away, making sure to tuck my skirt in before shutting the door.
While he moved around the hood, I used the moment alone to give myself a mental pep talk.
Deep breaths.
Don’t let your vagina overrule common sense.
You don’t even like sex, remember?
This is just a free meal and a ride in a fancy car. Nothing more.
A burst of cold air had me shivering as Sasha jumped into the driver’s seat. Hitting the button on the ignition, he backed out one-handed, the other dropping to rest on my thigh, right above my knee.
The roar of the engine was the only sound as we drove.
I was mesmerized by the lazy way his thumb stroked circles over my bare flesh where my skirt had ridden up. Touching me seemed as natural as breathing for him.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t immediately trying to get away, my skin crawling and demanding that I break contact. For some reason, Sasha’s hands on me had this grounding effect, and the longer I allowed this connection, the more I wanted it to continue.
I was so lost in the sensation that I didn’t realize we’d come to a stop until the engine cut out.
Slightly startled, I jumped in my seat, causing Sasha’s fingers to twitch. But instead of pulling away, he only gripped me tighter.
“I’ve got you.”
Those words were said with absolute certainty, and I forced myself to peek at him in the darkened cabin.
“You really believe that, don’t you?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he challenged.
I didn’t have an answer to that. At least not one that he would understand.
For most of my life, I’d been treated like property, an asset to be used for my family’s gain—a way for them to obtain even more power and strength in the underworld they ruled. The only compassion I had ever been shown was when Gio took over as Don and declared that I wouldn’t have to marry if I didn’t want to. My father had been pissed but bit his tongue, knowing better than to go against the family—one where Gio now sat in charge, regardless of his much younger age.
My silence spoke volumes, and Sasha didn’t press the issue. Unfolding his tall, lean form from the driver’s seat, he opened my door, extending a hand to help me exit.
Those fingers wrapped around mine had heat flooding my veins despite the chill of the November evening.
Once I was standing at my full height, his lips brushed against my ear. “I’ve been dying for a little taste of Italian.”
Jesus. If he kept dropping sexual innuendoes in that husky tone, I wasn’t going to last the night.
My panties were absolutely ruined.