40. VIN
VIN
I’m laying on my bed, wearing nothing but a towel, so fucking tired I can barely keep my eyes open. Water droplets from my shower linger on my chest. I wonder if Sophie will be mad that I’m getting the bed wet.
Right about now, Sophie is being escorted back to my room, our room. I half smile, imagining her reaction. She’s not going to like it, but it’s fucking necessary. And not just because I need her.
There’s a crash out in the hallway and pounding of feet. I turn my head to see Sophie out of breath, her hair wild, her eyes even wilder, huffing in the doorway.
“What. The. FRIG. Vincenzo!” She drops her chin to her chest trying to catch her breath in gasps.
I smile and wait. She’s not done.
“This is NOT freaking okay!” She steps into the room and jabs her finger at me with each word. “I came here in good faith, and you— you—”
“I’m keeping you safe, Sophie. It’s my job.” I run my hand over my face and stretch out on the bed.
“No. No, it’s definitely not. I promised you I’d support you today. That’s it. That’s all. Not moving in. Not being under your ‘protection’ or whatever you call this hostage situation. Not having your men manhandle me.”
Rage spikes through me and I lift my head. “Who fucking touched you?”
Jett and Darius show up behind her, heaving in breaths, and I stare them down.
“Sorry, Sir. She… she’s fast,” Jett says, wiping his brow.
“Did you put your fucking hands on her?” I lean up on my elbow, sneering at his reddening face.
Jett and Darius dart a glance at each other and Jett rubs the back of his neck. “Sir, I took her arm but when she fought me, I let her go.”
Sophie snaps her head back and forth between us and jumps in between me and Jett.
“No you don’t, Vincenzo! Don’t you put this on them! You ordered them to lock me up in your room, and you knew I wasn’t going to go easy. Or at all!”
“Let me see your arm,” I growl.
“Absolutely not. I’m going home.”
“Sophia, if you don’t show me your arm, these two will be dead within the hour.”
Darius looks at the floor, and Jett glances at Sophie who glares at me.
Finally she scowls and stomps over to me, pushing up her sleeve. “See? Nothing. Totally fine. Now it’s time to end this little game of yours, Vin. I want to leave.”
There are no marks on her arm, which is good for those fucking buffoons that cannot seem to handle my woman. I lay back down flat on the bed.
“Sophie, the Irish blew up my father’s funeral. People are dead because I’m not marrying Ashlyn. Do you think they aren’t looking for you? Do you think if they had the chance they wouldn’t end you, your restaurant, and your staff to send me a message?”
She’s quiet, as I knew she would be.
“You don’t think… You think the Irish did this?” I watch her through my eyelashes. Is she thinking about her little fuck of a boyfriend? Or is she worried about her staff? “Do you think they’ll go to my restaurant even if I’m not there?”
Her voice is small, all of her shrinks, and I relax. At least she’s not thinking about that fucker.
“No, princess. I don’t think they will, but I have people posted around and inside it just in case.”
Her eyes widen in fear.
I try to smile, but fuck, everything hurts right now. “Don’t worry. They are discreet, and there’s a perimeter set up to stop them long before anyone at the restaurant would even know they were there.”
She locks eyes with me. I can feel my girl drawing strength from my words, from me. How the fuck does she not realize that she’s mine?
Finally she nods slowly.
I pat the bed beside me. “Come here, princess.”
Reluctantly, she takes small steps toward me. I wave off Darius and Jett, who retreat in relief.
Sophie sits gingerly on the edge of the bed. I tug on her dress, motioning for her to come closer. She’s still wearing that dark charcoal number with the square neckline that hugs her body just right. Fuck.
She looks down at my hand then up at me. I expect her to say something shitty, stand up, throw a tantrum again, demand to leave. But instead she shocks me by curling up, her back against my side, her head tucked into my arm.
Carefully, I roll onto my side, avoiding putting pressure on the many stitches Rossi left. Running my hand over her curves, I blow out a breath. “Fuck, Sophia, this dress on you is just…”
“Stop it, Vin.” She’s not mad, though and she presses back against me, taking my hand off her hip and pulling my arm around her.
That ass, Jesus Christ. My cock hardens as I nuzzle into her neck, smelling her hair. She’s still got the day on her skin, but feeling her next to me is too good to let her get up. “Soph…”
I bite down on the back of her neck, gently at first, then harder until she whimpers and writhes against me. “Vin, stop. You’re hurt.”
“Help me forget about it for awhile.” I tug the fabric of her dress up over her hip and slide my fingers underneath, grazing along the crease above her thigh. “Mmm, no panties.”
“Vin…” She moans and slides away from me. I try to hold her in place against me but pain shoots up my side, spiderwebbing across my back, and I let her go.
Standing by the bed, I grab for her and wince and she takes my hand. “Can I get you anything?”
“I can think of a few things.” I grin and try to push my hand she’s holding toward her pussy, and she laughs, smacking my hand away.
“Let me go take a shower, and then I will come back and pet you until you fall asleep—but that’s all.”
I roll my eyes and tug on her dress. “That’s it, huh? Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she laughs. “How often do you have to change your bandages?”
“Everyday,” I say, stifling a groan and maneuvering onto my stomach as she helps me with the blankets. “Not till tomorrow though.”
She smooths my hair and kisses my cheek. “Rest, please.”
I just give her a sleepy smile and watch her walk into the bathroom. Her ass moves just right in that dress, and she glances over her shoulder at me as she shuts the door. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
My eyes close as the shower water turns on. On the nightstand, my phone buzzes. Groaning out loud, I turn and grab it. Tommy.
Fuck it.
I toss the phone back on the nightstand. Fuck the war. Fuck the drama. Tonight my Sophie is here and no matter what she says, I’m going to spend the night inside her one way or another and not give a single fucking second thought to anything outside of her.