32. If I Can’t Have You
CHAPTER 32
IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU
I sabella
I heave out a breath as I step into the cool night air, the incessant, frenetic voices of the ER finally quieting when the doors slide closed behind me. A few weeks of this internship, and I’m already exhausted. I can hardly complain because unlike typical doctors who work the emergency room, I’ve been fortunate enough to keep to quite normal hours.
I could never do it.
I only hope my plan of becoming a pediatrician and opening my own practice will be slightly less chaotic. With the turmoil racing around in my mind, I hardly have time to notice my ever-present shadow. Or maybe I’ve simply become that used to ignoring the overbearing Italian.
After that night over a week ago, the situation between us has been frosty at best. And I hate it. I hadn’t realized how much I counted on Raf not only as a guard, but as a friend. Without my family, Vinny and my crazy cousins, it’s the first time in my life I find myself truly alone. I’m not lonely exactly because I am just too busy, but Dio , I miss Serena and Matty. I would do anything for one of our all-night tea sessions. And Vinny, I hope he’s at least having some fun at King Industries. I am getting so desperate I would even settle for Alessia or Alessandro right about now.
Serena has been inviting me to Milano for weeks, but I can’t ask for a weekend off when I just started working. And she is pretty much in the same boat with her new job. She keeps promising she’ll come down, but we have yet to nail down a date.
Raffaele moves into step beside me, inching closer as we approach the parking lot where Sal always waits for my shift to end. “You want to grab something to eat before we go home?” he exhales on a rushed whisper.
“No, I’m tired.”
He nods and slows his pace, dropping back a step. He’s been nothing but professional, giving me my space but always lurking in the shadows. I hate how comforting his presence has become, even the stoic silence.
I wish there was a way we could go back to how things were, but I’m still so angry and embarrassed that I don’t think I’ll ever get past that night. Despite all the drama it has caused, I’m proud of myself for making the right decision by putting a stop to it. Raf has already wormed his way too deep, and if I had slept with him, it would have only made everything so much worse.
“Hey, Bella!”
I whirl around at the familiar voice and find Jeff jogging after us. I stop abruptly, scared he’s going to bust his stitches if he keeps moving so quickly. “Whoa, slow down.” I hold my hands up, stopping him. “You have to take it easy. You’re still recovering.”
Jeff waves a dismissive hand, a hint of crimson tinting his cheeks. “I’m totally good. The doctors released me with a clean bill of health two days ago.” He grins, his light blue eyes sparking beneath the final rays of sunlight dipping behind the backdrop of historic monuments. “Would they have let me come back to work if I wasn’t fully recovered?”
“No, I guess not.”
“So since I am all recovered, I owe you a thank you dinner for saving my life.” He turns to Raf and offers a smile. “Both of you actually.”
I can feel more than see Raf stiffen at the suggestion. Knowing my bodyguard, a dinner with Jeff and me would be the ultimate torture. Which is why I turn back to my colleague and smile sweetly. “I would love that.”
“ Signorina …” Raf mutters. He’s back to the formal crap which drives me absolutely insane. “You know the rules.”
I throw my hand up, shaking my head. “I do, no need to repeat them, Raffaele. I also know that there are a number of restaurants you’ve personally already vetted. So I was going to suggest one of those spots.” Then I turn to Jeff, smothering the scowl that formed while arguing with my guard. “You don’t mind where we go, do you?”
He shakes his head. “No, absolutely not. You should pick anyway since this is a thank you dinner.”
“Oh, so it’s not a date?” I glance over Jeff’s shoulder at my sulking bodyguard, enjoying every minute of his irritation.
Jeff’s light brows knit as he regards me before whispering, “Do you want it to be?”
I shrug nonchalantly. It’s not that I don’t find him attractive because I really do. It’s only that the idea of pissing off Raf is my number one objective right now.
Jeff runs his palm across the back of his neck. “I was actually planning on asking you out the night of the aperitivo , but you know how that went…”
“Please, don’t remind me.”
“Okay, great, so where should we go?” Jeff directs the question at me before cocking his head back at Raf. “I don’t want to step on your toes, buddy, so you pick.”
“Buddy?” Raf barks. “I’m not your f?—”
I dig my elbow into his side before he finishes the word. “There’s a great little pizza place right by my apartment.” I tick my head at the black Alfa Romeo in the parking lot. “My driver can take us.”
“Perfect.” Jeff’s smile is so big I almost feel bad before I remind myself I’m not using him just to get back at Raf. I do genuinely enjoy his company, and it was his idea to take us out as a thank you anyway.
And Jeff is great. If I wasn’t so damned obsessed with my bodyguard, he would be just the type of guy I should date.
I will date.
Mind made up, I wind my hand through Jeff’s arm and lead him toward the car.
The second bottle of wine arrives, and my hand brushes Raf’s as I reach for it.
“ You ’re going to have a drink?” I stare at him, brow arched as he claims the bottle of Chianti and fills his glass.
“This dinner is in my honor, right?” He clinks his flute against mine and downs the deep burgundy wine in one go. His eyes are already beginning to gloss over, and for a second, I’m actually worried.
In all the months he’s worked for me, I’ve never seen him wasted and from the looks of it, he’s on his way there. “Maybe you should take it easy,” I whisper.
“I’m fine, principessa , don’t you worry about me.” He leans closer, his warm breath spilling across my ear. “If there’s one thing I can handle, it’s my wine. You on the other hand—” He clucks his tongue, the sound vibrating across my eardrum, before sitting back.
“Whatever…” I grumble.
Jeff sits across the small table tucked into a corner of the pizzeria, oblivious to the tension as he finishes up on a call with his mom back home. He’s already mouthed I’m sorry multiple times, but I think it’s sweet. Dio knows my parents would have a fit if I didn’t answer every time they called.
Raf leans in again, his hand finding my thigh beneath the table. I startle at the unexpected touch, but he keeps his fingers clasped around my leg despite the squirming. “You should probably let me know now if I need to buy some earplugs from the pharmacy before we get home. Because if you’re planning on bringing that coglione home and fucking him, I will not be forced to listen to it.” His fingers tighten around my thigh, the pressure growing so intense I’m scared he’ll leave a bruise.
“You’re hurting me,” I hiss and wrap my hand around his, attempting to pry his fingers off. The pressure lightens, but he doesn’t release me. “Raf!” I snarl.
Smoldering, dark eyes lock to mine, a raging tempest brewing below the sleek surface. “I need to know, Isabella. Are you going to bring him home?”
“I—I don’t know.” I hadn’t planned on it, honestly, but there’s something about the rage in his eyes that has my heart pumping.
His hand moves up my thigh until it reaches the hem of my sundress. I gasp as heat surges in its wake.
“Are. You. Going. To. Fuck. Him?” He punctuates each word by sliding his hand an inch closer to the building heat between my thighs.
“What do you care?” I hiss. “You said the other night was a mistake, that you regretted it.”
“I never said I regretted it, principessa .” His voice is nothing more than a serrated whisper. “There isn’t a moment of what happened between us I would take back. It meant fucking everything.” His hand reaches my throbbing center, cupping it gently. “Just because I can’t have your pussy, doesn’t mean it’s not mine. Doesn’t mean that the thought of anyone else touching you makes me want to rip my own heart out.” His finger starts to move, stroking me over the silk of my panties.
A gasp works its way up my throat as my hips grind against the faint touch, desperate for more.
“I take it back,” he snaps. “I’m not getting earplugs, and I’ve decided for you, you’re not fucking that guy.”
Jeff waves at me from across the table, motioning at his phone then mouths another I’m sorry . He points toward the door, and I nod absentmindedly, too caught up in the building heat surging toward my lower half. I barely notice as he stands and walks out the door of the small trattoria, leaving me tucked into the small niche at the mercy of my ruthless guard.
The chair legs squeal against the wooden floor as Raf brings his chair closer. His finger dances across the waistband of my panties then slides beneath the silk before slipping between my wet folds. A groan vibrates his chest as he circles my clit, and my breaths start to come quicker. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me, principessa .”
“How do you know it’s for you?” I rasp, even as my hips start to thrust, begging him for more.
He glances across the table at the empty seat. “Because I’m the only one here.” He shoves a finger inside me, and nerve-endings I didn’t even know I had roar to life.
“Fuck,” I groan as I quickly scan the trattoria. I don’t know how it’s possible that everyone seems too consumed with their own conversations to notice what’s happening in our little nook.
“What’s that, principessa ? You want me to fuck you with my finger right here in the middle of this restaurant?”
“Umhmm.” Shit , what is wrong with me?
He nuzzles my ear, then his tongue darts out, sucking on my lobe. “Or should I sneak under the table and fuck you with my tongue again?”
“No, you can’t,” I squeal.
He runs his tongue across his bottom lip. “Mmm, I’ve been dreaming about that sweet taste, Isabella...”
Before I can put together another sentence, he drops under the table, hidden beneath the white linen.
“Raf, no!” I whisper-shout as his scruffy cheeks rub against my inner thighs. “What if Jeff comes back?”
But it’s too late. He’s already replaced his finger with his tongue, and raw pleasure shoots up my core.
“ Madonna mia ,” I pant as his tongue swirls around my swollen clit.
Then his finger is back, thrusting in and out of me in a frenetic pace as he sucks and licks me into oblivion. My head falls back, the restaurant blurring all around me. I’m vaguely aware I should not be doing this. Someone is going to notice. How could they not?
But pure pleasure roars through me, and all my fears melt away.
Raf’s free hand crawls up my dress, finding my breast. He kneads the sensitive flesh until my nipples pebble. At least I have the sense to grab a cloth napkin and tuck it into the collar of my blouse, covering his hand.
Fire races from my pussy, up to my breasts and all the way down to the base of my spine. It flares, growing more intense with each sweep of his tongue, every maddening thrust.
My hand dives under the table, fingers curling around Raf’s silky locks. I urge him closer until he devours me. A part of me is scared I’ll smother him, but the other part is too overwhelmed with pleasure to care. His tongue continues the devastating twirls, flicking faster then harder. The fire builds, a wave of pressure surging, and I’m seconds away from exploding. I’m so damned close…
“Raf,” I moan, “I’m going to come.”
And just like that, he wrenches his mouth from my pulsing center and pulls his finger away.
I snarl a curse, the sudden emptiness rolling through me. I’m horny and needy as all hell, the orgasm just beyond my grasp. “What the hell, Raf?” I growl.
His head pops up between my legs, the tablecloth just covering his dark waves. “That is your punishment, principessa . No one can touch your pussy but me, no one can make you come but me . The next time you force me to endure a night like this, you’ll know what a real punishment is.” My arousal glistens on his chin, and he runs his tongue across it, lapping me up.
“You asshole,” I hiss.
“And you’re a spoiled little mafia princess.” He smirks up at me. “But you’re my fucking mafia princess, and if I can’t have you, no one will.”
Approaching footfalls sends my guard dipping back under the table only to pop up on the other side just as Jeff returns. Raf crawls out with a napkin clenched in his fingers and thankfully, my arousal no longer slickening his chin.
“I’m so sorry about that.” Jeff slips his phone back into his pocket and sits down. “When my mom starts talking, there’s no stopping her.”
“No problem,” I murmur, reaching for my glass of wine. I’m going to need another entire bottle.
“I hope I didn’t miss anything.”
Raf pulls his chair closer to the table, the sharp screech sending my heart slamming into my ribs. “Nope, nothing important at all.”
“So should we get some dessert?” Jeff’s bright eyes dart between us.
Raf shakes his head, a ridiculous grin on his face. “Oh, I just couldn’t eat another thing. I’m absolutely stuffed. My pus—pasta was exquisite, the best I’ve ever had.” He runs his tongue across his bottom lip again. “Sinfully delicious.”
All the heat raging down below surges to my cheeks, and I’m a second away from murdering the smirking bastard. How dare he withhold my orgasm?
The waiter returns, and I thank Dio he was busy five minutes ago. As Jeff orders cannoli for dessert, I lean toward Raf. “You think you’re the only one who can play this game, stronzo ?” I whisper. “Just wait till we get home.”