14. Elio
ELIO
I parked by the tree at the Gambino’s house, waiting for Isa. I opted for the truck today. It was a big monstrosity that I usually didn’t drive, considering it couldn’t pick up enough speed to get out of a tricky situation.
That, and it usually drew more attention than I wanted or needed.
But the truck wasn’t registered under my name. No one would know I was behind the wheel, and the windows were tinted in the darkest shade possible without crossing over any legal lines.
I was getting tired of all this sneaking around. And I fucking hated dropping her off here every morning as I tried to fight off the wrongness of the feeling.
Maybe Massimo was right. Perhaps setting up an arranged marriage with her was the better option. I didn’t want to blindside Valentino with it. And I didn’t want to force Isa into it if she wasn’t ready.
It fucking sucked that this was the way it was for a lot of the women here, but it didn’t have to be that way with Isa.
She should have a choice in the matter.
I was still lost in thought when the passenger door opened, and I was instantly hit with the familiar floral scent.
I turned to her as she struggled to climb up on the seat. I leaned over and helped her up. She closed the door behind her and looked at me.
“Hi,” she said shyly.
I reached over and pulled her in closer to me, pressing a quick but firm kiss on her lips. I felt her smile against me, the move taking off some of the weight I had been feeling on my chest over the past couple of days.
“Hi, baby,” I said when I pulled away. I couldn’t see her clearly because of where I was parked, a good distance away from the house, and with no streetlight nearby. I cupped her cheek and brought her in closer to me.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
I looked at the time. It was a little after nine. Not too late, but it wasn’t early either.
We couldn’t go out in Las Vegas. There was a chance we would run into someone we knew, and it would be just my luck to run into Matteo.
God, I fucking hated all this sneaking around.
“You’ll see,” I said, putting the truck into drive and pulling out of the neighborhood. She settled back into her seat, and even if I couldn’t see her clearly, I could sense her excitement.
Isa nodded, her fingers reaching over for mine across the center console. Her touch was gentle, hesitant, but I could feel the current between us—that invisible pull that had only felt stronger and stronger with each day I spent in her presence.
I flipped my hand over and grabbed hers in mine, taking in the delicateness of it.
We made the drive mostly in silence. I was never one for words. It seemed, growing up, that Matteo and Giulia talked for the rest of us.
So I liked the silence. I liked that she was comfortable with it, too.
There weren't a lot of cars out tonight, but still, I found my eyes straying to the rearview mirror every once in a while, taking in my surroundings. While we weren’t in a full-blown war with the Devil’s Wings MC, it helped to be careful.
We got to Lake Mead in under an hour. Isa turned to me with a look of confusion on her face.
“We’re going swimming? I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”
“While the thought of you in a bikini is tempting, we’re not going swimming tonight.”
And we wouldn’t be swimming in Lake Mead. Not at night, but especially since I knew of a few lazy fuckers who thought the lake was the perfect place to get rid of bodies.
I parked the truck backward, so the bed faced the lake, and turned to Isa.
“Come on,” I said, opening my door and getting out. I grabbed the basket from the back seat, along with several blankets and a few pillows.
“Help me set up,” I said.
She looked at the stuff in my arms, then at me, before jumping up and down excitedly. “We’re having a picnic in the bed of your truck?” she asked.
She sounded like a kid who was just told they could stay up past their bedtime.
My heart hurt for her.
I never really thought about my own freedom, or at least, my freedom compared to hers.
While I was still bound by my family’s expectations and traditions, I was able to come and go as I pleased. I didn’t fear the world like I was sure she was taught to—the same way I was sure my brothers and I had unintentionally taught Giulia.
“Yeah, baby. We’re having a picnic in the bed of the truck.”
She ran over to me and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me down and kissing me. I held still. She rarely ever initiated anything between us, and I didn’t want to scare her off.
She pulled away much too soon and grabbed a blanket from my arms, moving over to the truck. I stayed where I was for two long seconds before pulling myself out of my reverie and walking over to her, helping her set up.
Twenty minutes later, we had the blankets laid out and the pillows leaned against the back window. The picnic basket was open, with some food spread out in front of us, while Isa sat between my legs, looking up at the stars in the sky.
I took in the solid feel of her in my arms, that sweet, addictive scent of hers that I was beginning to think I wouldn’t be able to go a day without, and wondered how the fuck it had taken me this long just to realize how much I fucking needed her like this.
“This has been such a perfect night.” She sighed as I fed her a grape. “I don’t want it to end.”
“Just because it ends doesn’t mean there can’t be other perfect nights,” I said to her.
She didn’t answer me right away. I had set up a small lamp at the end of the truck, which provided just enough light for me to catch that strange look on her face.
“What?” I asked softly, turning her around a bit until she looked at me.
She shrugged. “There aren’t that many perfect nights for me.”
“Bullshit,” I responded fiercely.
She smiled a little and cupped my cheek. “I don’t mean it like that. I have had nights, but they’re mostly just… you know, nights . Nothing to write home about. My life is kind of boring.”
I tightened my arms around her. “Well then, we just have to change that, don’t we?”
A twinkle formed in her eyes, and I felt my heart reacting to it. Fuck me, but what was she doing to me?
“Promise?” she asked.
“Promise,” I vowed. If it were possible, I would make each and every day of her life an extraordinary one.
She leaned up and pressed a kiss on my jaw. My fist tightened marginally from the contact. When I felt she was about to move away, I kissed her, cupping the back of her neck with one hand and holding her close to me, deepening the kiss.
She moaned into my lips as she opened, letting me push my tongue inside, savoring the taste of her.
I shifted us until she was lying on her back, and I hovered above her.
I ran my hand up and down her body, taking in her every curve, from her shoulder down to one tit, palming it in my hand and squeezing until I felt her nipple harden beneath my touch.
She gasped when I plucked at the nub between my fingers through her shirt.
“Elio,” she mewled sweetly.
“Are you still sore from last time?” I asked, my voice gruff.
She bit her lip and shook her head. I didn’t need to see clearly to know she was blushing. Fuck, how adorable.
“No?” I asked, shifting my hand down to the hem of her shirt. I lifted it up until a sliver of her skin showed.
How tantalizing. My fingers found the waistband of the black leggings she wore.
Her stomach dipped as she sucked in a harsh breath, already knowing where I was going with this. I smiled at her, baring my teeth.
She squirmed, her legs rubbing against each other, obviously trying to relieve the ache I knew was forming in that sweet little pussy of hers.
My mouth watered.
I couldn’t wait to taste her again. I had been reliving her taste in my memories for days—and nights —after the first time.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” I murmured against her throat, my voice hoarse with need. My fingers traced lazy circles just above her leggings, close enough to drive her wild, but not where I knew she wanted them most.
She tried to grind her hips up. I pushed my hand down on her mound, keeping her still. Her breath caught from the move, and I pressed my thumb over her clit.
“Fuck,” she whispered. I kept my thumb there for three long seconds, feeling her body shake against mine, then let go.
“You know what I want,” she whispered, her hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me back as if she couldn’t stand any space between us.
“Say it.” I nipped at the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, earning another soft moan from her lips. “I want to hear you beg me.”
Her skin felt hot as her eyes held mine with surprising boldness. “I want your mouth on me. Please, Elio.”
How pretty my girl begged. And the way she said my name—breathless and desperate—nearly had me coming undone. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her leggings and dragged them down, along with her panties, savoring every inch of the smooth skin I revealed.
“Lift for me, sweet girl.”
She lifted her hips to help me, and I felt my cock strain against my jeans at her eagerness, along with the musky scent of her arousal teasing me.
She was wet.
“So fucking beautiful,” I said, trailing my lips down her throat. She shivered beneath me, her hands fisting the blanket.
When I finally had her bare from the waist down, I settled between her legs, pushing myself down until I was no more than a few inches away from what was possibly my most favorite place on earth. I pressed soft kisses to the inside of her thighs. Her legs rubbed against me.
“Please,” she whispered, the breathless quality of her voice driving me over the edge.
I looked up at her, meeting her eyes in the dim light. “Where do you want my mouth?” I asked.
She made a small sound, a cross between a whimper and a frustrated groan. “Elio.”
“Say the word, baby.”
“M-My pussy.”
I smiled against her thigh and moved over to her center, doing as she asked, and pressed my mouth over her pussy.
Fuck me.
She was sweet.