Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
S arah
Holy mother of God.
He’s still holding me, my shaking legs wrapped around his hips, his cock still inside of me. My head falls back and lands against the glass wall with an ungraceful thwack . And I do not care. I’m not actually sure I’ll care about anything ever again.
Vincent plants a kiss on my throat, right over my throbbing pulse.
Did he just… growl a little? I swear I heard it.
His shaft slips from my body, and I feel his cum leaking out of my pussy. He turns us into the shower spray and slowly sets me down. I feel like a baby deer learning to walk. A sore baby deer.
He starts to wash me, working shampoo through my hair, his strong fingers massaging my scalp and sending goosebumps down my body. He soaps and scrubs the rest of me, then himself, and rinses us both before turning the shower off.
He picks me up bridal style, then heads for the glass sliding door.
“You realize we’re naked, right?” I ask.
He gives me a devilish grin. “Do you actually think I’d run the risk of letting another man see you naked?”
The balcony is huge, with thick drapes pulled closed wrapping around the space and a roll-up roof that is open, the night sky filled with stars. The centerpiece of the space is the large garden tub, recessed into the floor. Vincent kicks the tap with his foot and water starts to fill the tub, wisps of steam rising into the cool night air. He slowly lowers us into the hot water.
I groan as I sink deeper, the warmth covering my body and soaking into my bones.
“This doesn’t suck,” I sigh. He’s sitting with his back against the tub and his long legs spread. I’m sitting in his lap, my head resting on his chest.
He chuckles. “No it doesn’t.” I feel his lips press against the top of my head.
After a decidedly pregnant pause, I tilt my face up to look at his. “I’m sorry. For not telling you about…”
Are you blushing? Seriously, Sarah? You just had sex with the man and you can’t talk about your V-card?
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks, cupping water with his hand and drizzling it over my shoulder so it runs down my body. The question is curious, not judgmental or condescending.
Definitely blushing.
I can feel the heat in my cheeks and my chest. “Because I honestly didn’t think I would bleed. I don’t know any dancer that has.” He’s quiet, so I continue. “It’s not like I was saving it or anything. Growing up in foster care, dating wasn’t really a thing. Then with my career… there was always something more important than dating. And the only man I spend any time with is Robert, and you have probably caught on to the fact that he’s so very gay.”
I feel him chuckle against my chest, and he leans forward, his lips brushing across my ear. “Kitten, blood or no blood, the second I sunk my cock into your perfect, tight cunt, I knew.” His voice is thick and low, almost a growl.
I shudder. “So, yeah. Anyway, I’m sorry. False advertising and all.”
His teeth nip the back of my neck. “And is that the real reason you didn’t tell me?”
Because I’ve never been so turned on in my life, and I would have died of terminal orgasm denial if you’d stopped .
Like hell was I saying that though. “It’s not a big deal.”
He makes a little tsk tsk sound. “Liar.”
“What? It’s not.”
“Oh, no. Being the only man to feel your pussy stretch open for me, or to come deep inside your body with my name on your lips? Oh, that’s a very big deal, kitten.”
Fuck. Me.
No normal man could say something like that and get away with it. The dirty words would sound coerced, like something out of a romance novel. But with him, it’s authentic, organic. Hot.
He plants a kiss on the nape of my neck. It gives me another little shudder before I relax and sink deeper into the warm water, my body melting against the firm expanse of his chest. After a while, I ask, “So who is trying to kill you?”
He tenses briefly. “An old acquaintance, I think.”
“What happens now?”
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
I feel him chuckle. “I call my guy that does the whacking.”
I snort. “Naturally. I meant, what happens to me?”
“You’re not safe until this is over.”
“You don’t know that. This has nothing to do with me.”
“Call it a hunch,” he tells me.
“I have a life you know. A career. Robert will get Bella caught up, but there is a huge show in a couple days. And I’m missing my lessons.”
He goes back to pouring the water down my body. “I’ll work on something.”
“Vincent?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do you care?”
He’s quiet for a long time, and I assume he’s not going to answer. Finally, he sighs. “I don’t know.”
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but raw honestly certainly wasn’t it.
I lie there, cocooned in the warm water and the arms of the mob boss that kidnapped me a day ago, staring up at the night sky. And I laugh.
“What?” he asks, amusement in his tone.
I twist to look at him. “This is fucking ridiculous.”
He quirks an eyebrow back at me.
I spread my hands apart, gesturing around to everything. “This! You, me, kidnapping, mafias, shower sex, shoving me in a trunk. It’s… absurd. Like this doesn’t just happen. This is not my life.” I flop back against his chest, the water sloshing around the tub. I feel him kiss the top of my head.
“So what is your life?”
“Basically a rinse and repeat of yoga, smoothies, class, and performing.”
“ Swan Lake , correct?” he asks.
“How did you know?”
“Super-secret mafia source. Google.”
I roll my eyes so hard, I’m pretty sure my whole head moves.
“What is your favorite show to perform?” he continues.
“This one. Swan Lake .”
“Why?”
“Because it’s real. It’s not this cute little story all wrapped up in a bow. It’s deception and betrayal and forgiveness and fighting for your own destiny.”
He starts to knead the muscles in my shoulders and neck. “It has two endings, right?”
“Mmmmm,” I groan. His hands feel amazing. “Yes. Actually it has a bunch, but people usually talk about the happy ending and the tragic ending.”
“Which is yours?”
“The company does both. Switches off and on based on the day.”
“Do you have a favorite?” He keeps up his rhythmic massaging, and I feel my body turning into mush.
“Yeah, the tragic ending.”
He chuckles. “Why?”
I tilt my head to look at him. His dark eyes are focused on mine, the faint light just enough to illuminate his features. He’s… interested. Listening.
“You know, no one has ever asked me why.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Mostly people think it’s weird and change the subject.” I take a breath. “Are you familiar with the story?”
“Only the broad strokes. Catch me up,” he tells me.
“Okay, so the short version is they are madly in love, but dude is tricked and breaks his promise, so my character is trapped as a swan forever. He begs her forgiveness, and she gives it to him. He was tricked and all, and she’s not holding it against him. Even if he was an idiot.”
I feel Vincent laugh again.
“Anyway, she forgives him. But she also doesn’t want to live as a fucking swan forever. So she throws herself off a cliff. He loses his mind, and because it’s a tragedy and everyone dies anyway, he jumps too, and even though the whole damn thing was his fault, their spirits live in heaven. But as a little bonus, his sacrifice breaks the curse and kills the bad guy, so that’s nice too.”
“So why is that your favorite?”
“Because forgiveness is what you do for yourself, so you aren’t holding onto things that hurt you. But she still chooses her own path, rather than live a life that wasn’t hers. I think there is something beautiful in that.”
We fall back into the relaxed, comfortable silence again.
“So, this mafia thing. Your father was in charge?”
“Until he died. Then it passed to me.”
“Why not your brother? He’s older right?”
“Alessandro was already a priest. He joined the clergy years before. Pissed the hell out of my father.”
“Do you know why he did that?”
He shakes his head. “No idea. Maybe you’ll be the one to pry answers out of his stubborn ass.”
After a beat, I lock eyes with him again. “Vincent?”
“Yes?”
“You’re not going to kill me, are you?” I don’t know why, but suddenly I feel it in my bones.
“No,” he whispers and then crushes his lips to mine with a kiss so hot, I’m surprised the water doesn’t boil around us.