11. Vlad
11
VLAD
M arcello would probably shoot first and ask questions later. He certainly would not appreciate my being in the same room as his sister, alone. His concern isn't wholly unwarranted, since I am a ticking bomb. And while I normally would not endanger an innocent, I find that this time I cannot stay away.
She struggles in my arms, her body tantalizingly close to mine as she tries to find an opening to kick me.
"Stop moving," I whisper, tightening my hold on her waist. My palm moves over her stomach, and I can't stop the vision of her naked body from entering my mind.
Fuck! I need to stay focused.
"If you promise not to scream, I'll let you go," I say, immediately chastising myself for taking the risk.
Her head slowly bobs up and down in a nod, and I release her.
She doesn't waste any time in putting distance between us, going as far as the other end of the room.
"What in God's name are you doing in my room?" she asks, her eyes shooting daggers at me.
"Aghh," I groan out loud, putting a hand up, "don't bring him up! We're not on good terms. "
She raises an eyebrow at me.
"You do realize you're talking to a novitiate."
"Former. It seems to me you've shed your habit. Was it too constricting?" I wiggle my eyebrows at her suggestively.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she says, her eyes flashing as she takes a step back.
"Do I scare you?" I ask her bluntly, moving closer to her, caging her in. My eyes roam over her chest—her generous chest, since I would have to be blind not to notice those magnificent mounds hidden by her odiously conservative dress. I note the quickening of her pulse. "I do, don't I?"
I wouldn't fault her for being scared of me. She's not the first and certainly not the last. Although it will make our conversation harder.
"Of course not! But you're in my room, uninvited. It's not proper."
"Don't tell me you fear for your virtue," I drawl, using one finger to caress her cheek.
Her eyes widen, but she doesn't put distance between us. If anything, she raises her gaze to meet mine, challenging me directly.
"I fear no such thing! I can defend myself." She crosses her hands over her chest, pushing her voluptuous breasts up.
I groan out loud, taking my eyes off her chest. Even I am but a man, and breasts like hers are prime material for getting a man in trouble—even those of the monk variety.
"Can you?" I raise an eyebrow at her.
"Of course!" She barely gets the words out when my hand shoots out, pushing her onto her bed, my body on top of hers.
"Please, do," I say, amused.
She narrows her eyes at me, but she doesn't lose her calm. If anything, she seems to be even more composed than before.
"Nothing?" My eyebrows shoot up questioningly. "I could do a lot of things to you from this position. Say, hike up your dress..."
She doesn't react to my taunt. Instead, she turns her eyes to me, her gaze softening.
"You could," she says in a breathy tone, her hand coming up to my face.
I frown, not understanding what she's trying to do .
She smiles briefly before leaning forward and pressing her lips to my cheek.
To say I'm stunned would be an understatement. I'm frozen to the spot as my skin soaks in that small gesture.
Hell, I can count on one hand the times someone's willingly kissed my cheek.
But I don't have more time to wonder about this unusual situation, as her knee lodges between my legs, kicking me in the balls with a force that makes me see stars.
"Fuck," I rasp in pain, moving off her and praying to all deities that my balls are still intact.
"See, not helpless." She smirks at me, swinging her legs off the bed and getting up.
"What are you, some ninja nun?" I mumble, my vision doubling from pain.
"I don't know what that word means, but you need to leave," she says, tapping her foot on the floor impatiently.
I take a deep breath, fighting against the pain.
That's one region where my pain receptors are not dulled.
Bringing myself under control, I get up, putting on my most charming smile. Instead of making her soften towards me, it does the complete opposite.
"Wipe that smile off your face," she fires at me, and I'm momentarily stunned by her reaction. But I quickly recover.
"Afraid you'll fall for me?" I ask playfully, trying to bring the conversation into silly yet comfortable territory.
"As if," she snorts. "Get to the point. Why are you here?"
"Why, Assisi, didn't those nuns teach you how to give such a warm welcome?" I lay back on the bed, resting on my elbows and watching annoyance appear on her face.
"No, they taught me not to take any bullshit," she tilts her head at me, "especially of the male kind," she says, looking down at me.
My mouth curls up. "Ah, the age-old misandry. You know, I have a theory about nuns and why they are so bitter," I say slowly, and I note a hint of interest in her features.
"Really?" she asks, her tone suspicious .
"They just need a good fuck." I shrug carelessly, but my eyes are honed in on her expression, watching for any slight change. When I see none, I add another thing, just to rile her up, "But you probably don't know what that means."
The reaction is delayed, as her brows knit together in confusion before her eyes widen in realization.
"You cad!" she exclaims, outraged, taking one of her bags and throwing it at me.
"Why?" I put my hands up in defense. "You know I'm right!"
She plays the scandalized maiden very well, but I can see the slight trembling of her upper lip and the way she's trying very hard not to smile.
"You might be right, but you're a cad for pointing it out nonetheless," she continues, still holding on to that cheeky smile.
"Why? Because that would mean you need a good fuck too?" I add before I can think it through. Her mouth drops open in shock, her lids moving rapidly up and down as if she can't quite believe what I've said.
Even I can't believe what I've said.
It must be her tits. They're distracting and making me think dirty thoughts. There's no other explanation for it. And as my eyes drift lower to the rise and fall of her chest, I have to swallow deeply.
Her eyes rage at me, and before I know it, she tackles me, her hands moving up and down in an attempt to grab me.
I play her game, easily immobilizing her, but as she struggles in my hold, we roll over the edge of the bed.
Assisi on top of me, my back hits the floor, and I stifle a groan at the impact.
She raises her head slightly, watching me with a frown.
"Are you okay?" she asks, worried. I bite back a smile as I file away another piece of information about her.
For all her bark, she's got a soft core.
That might actually come in handy.
"Aghh," I fake grunt in pain, closing my eyes and pretending I've been injured .
"My God! I'm so sorry." She scrambles into a sitting position, her hands going to my shoulders as she's inspecting for damage. "Where does it hurt? I swear I didn't mean to harm you like that," she continues blabbering, her eyes roving over my upper body. I keep fake moaning, somehow enjoying being the object of her concern.
Belatedly, though, I realize that this new position does not help at all. Somehow, she ended up straddling me, her legs on either side of my legs, her pelvis grinding on top of mine.
Ah, she's got a soft core indeed.
"Oh no, you're all red," she continues, using her hands to fan some air into my face.
"I'm fine," I mumble, torn between keeping her where she is, or moving her and getting myself under control.
She frowns at me, but eventually nods, moving aside.
I breathe out, relieved, and I turn to adjust my pants before I can face her again.
"Why are you here?" she asks once more, her tone softer this time. She turns her inquisitive gaze toward me, and I detect a hint of interest.
"I have an offer for you," I say, mentally reminding myself to stop antagonizing her. I need to befriend her, not make her wary of me.
"An offer?"
"Your brother is my friend, and I would be remiss if I didn't offer my services."
"What sort of services?" She arches a brow, quickly going back to her suspicious self.
"Since your brother is fairly busy fighting some unknown enemy, I've decided to take care of your introduction into society myself," I add with a smile.
She doesn't seem convinced as she looks at me askance.
"And does my brother know of this... endeavor of yours?"
"Of course not," I say, racking my brain for a good reason.
Why didn't I think this through beforehand?
Somehow my brain cells leave the conversation when it comes to her .
"You don't know Marcello like I do. He can be extremely overprotective. I'm sure you wouldn't like to walk away from one prison only to find yourself in another." I pause, searching her features for a reaction.
"Go on."
"I have sisters too," had "so I can understand the struggle, which is why I've decided to help you familiarize yourself with the world."
"And what's in it for you?"
"I may need a favor or two in the future." She looks at me skeptically, so I amend my words, "Nothing too hard. Accompany me at an event or two," I quickly add, explaining that my position may call for my attendance with a date.
She nods thoughtfully, not entirely convinced.
"I see. But why me?"
"Why not you?" I fire back, this time allowing for some honesty, "You're not scared of me, as we've established. Not even after what happened at Sacre Coeur. Most people would not try to tackle me to the ground, as you already have. That just confirms to me you're the perfect person for the job."
As I say the words, I gain a new respect for her, because few people would take me head on like she did, or even dare look me in the eye. For that alone, she is indeed the only one fit for the job.
"There's something you're not telling me." She narrows her eyes at me and I just shrug.
"You can accept, or you can refuse," I lie, her refusal being completely out of the question. But it seems I may need to push her further. "I can always find someone else. You, on the other hand..." I trail off.
When her expression doesn't budge, I stand up, ready to leave.
"Wait," she says, and my lips stretch in a languid smile.
"If we do this..." she waves her hand around, "then we do it my way. We do the things that I want to do."
"Agreed." I nod.
"Good," she replies awkwardly, teetering on the heels of her feet, suddenly out of words.
We quickly exchange phone numbers, and I tell her I'll be in touch .
Just as I'm about to jump out the window, she taps my back.
"If we're going to be friends, then you can call me Sisi," she adds, suddenly not meeting my eyes.
"Sisi," I say the word out loud, and a small smile appears on her face. "I'll see you soon, Sisi."