2. Matteo #2
“My words were very convincing. I think I got through to him. He just wants to make sure you’re okay with his plans first.”
My arched brow assures her in no uncertain terms that she’ll pay restitution for her lie with more than words, but before I can work out if the shiver that arrives with her nod of confirmation is in excitement or fear, Antonio rejoins the conversation.
“You don’t want her?” He inches back from Azra, his expression far from nice.
He’s lucky Nico stole my gun when he drags his eyes down Azra’s frozen form.
“Like, I get it… but also…” A wolf whistle finalizes his reply.
How fast his jealousy simmers genuinely confuses Azra.
I’m a little more clued in, though I will forget that the moment we’re alone.
That dumb fuck just showed his hand, and I will expose his stupidity for all it’s worth.
After a gawk long enough to guarantee he’ll piss blood for a week the instant I return from taking Azra to the closet airport, he locks his eyes with Azra’s and asks, “Are you packed?”
Too shocked to speak, Azra glances at a suitcase at the foot of the bed, then back at Antonio before nodding.
“Good.” He nudges his head to the buckled door. “Then I guess you’re free to go.”
With his “she’s my fiancée” rant still ringing through her head, Azra tries to make sense of the situation. “But… I thought—”
Antonio doesn’t give her the time of day. “Papa directed one of the SUVs to the back entrance. It’ll allow your departure to be discreet. Discretion might find you a new sucker sooner rather than later.”
I picture his intestines hanging out of his navel. Hating how fast he’s knocking down her confidence, and more than eager to begin retribution, I gather Azra’s suitcase, then step into the hallway, tugging Azra behind me.
Half the Adami clan eyeballs our departure, so like all great showmen, I give them their money’s worth.
I tug Azra under the nook of my arm, then tilt in close enough for her hair to tickle my nostrils, causing collective murmurs to bounce around the compound.
Azra isn’t overly tall. The top of her head barely reaches my chin, but compared to the fairy-sized women my older brothers date, she’s closer to average height for a girl than short.
Antonio’s playbook is open for the world to see, so I’m not at all shocked when his fists ball in preparation to lunge at me as my pinkie finger slips past a ruffling of chiffon on Azra’s back. Anger bubbles up inside him as I trace a figure-eight pattern on his once wife-to-be’s bare skin.
He’s frothing at the mouth… and then Azra gives him a soft, harmless smile, and once again, his jealousy deflates like a punctured balloon.
As we reach the mudroom at the back of the compound, I keep my voice low enough for only Azra to hear.
“For future reference, the innocent act you’re playing won’t work on men like Antonio.
” She scoffs under her breath, but I continue before she can speak a word.
It’s either keep talking or kill every man drinking in her flushed cheeks for my barely there touch.
Giovanni would chew my ass out if I gave a reason for Henry Gottle Sr., the boss of all bosses, to return to our shores earlier than required.
“Men like Antonio don’t want kindness and softness.
They want the one thing they can’t control. ”
Azra’s battered breaths have my cock and zipper meeting again. “Just like you know nothing about me, you know nothing about him.”
“I know everything about him,” I counter, my tone cocky.
“Because I created the narrative, sweetheart. I’ve fought men like him a hundred times in the past decade.
” I might be breaking some kind of guy code, but I don’t care.
Who thinks straight when all the blood in their body is racing to their cock?
“The only time they fall apart is when they realize they can’t have the thing everyone else wants.
” Such as the pretty, feisty fiancée of a rival.
Her eyes narrow, but the confidence in my tone doesn’t veer the needle in my favor in the slightest. “You’re lying. I know Antonio. He’s just building up the courage to fight for what he wants. You’re quite intimidating.”
“I am,” I agree, nodding. “But that isn’t why he is relieved that you’re leaving.
” Her eyes snap to Antonio for barely a second before they align with mine.
She knows that what I’m saying is true. Antonio’s I-don’t-give-a-fuck face is extremely telling, but I continue spelling it out for her.
“He isn’t losing his mind right now because he knows he can have you, so he doesn’t want you. It’s that fucking simple.”
“That isn’t how relationships work. You probably have a hard time understanding that since you’ve never dated anyone long enough to learn their name, but I know Antonio. He wants me—”
“To let your hair down, to be the little hellion you unleashed on me earlier. But this”—I lower my eyes down her body, my sweep long and indulging since there are so many good points to drink in—“isn’t what he’s chasing.”
“You don’t—”
Before she can defend him again, I curl my hand around her throat and pin her to the only solid wall in the mudroom. The plan is to scare her into submission, to make her kneel to my reign, but when her pulse speeds up as fast as blood floods my cock, my plan goes to shit.
Ignoring the alarms ringing in my head, I seal my lips over hers, then kiss the living hell out of her.
Kissing is too personal. It implies ownership and feelings. I don’t have sex to evoke emotions. I’m there to get off. But I kiss Azra with everything I have: lips, tongue, and every ounce of my soul.
It’s a cruel, earth-shattering embrace that floods my veins with untapped euphoria.
Azra’s breath catches as her fingers curl into my shirt. Then she returns my embrace as if we don’t have an audience. There’s no hesitation or doubt. Just licks, moans, and the sweet tenderness of a mouth I’d pay a billion dollars to sink my dick into once.
It’s a kiss worthy of the movies, an embrace pornos would never show because it reveals more intimacy than any sex act could.
It’s a kiss that could make a madman sane and turn a sane man mad.
In seconds, I get drunk on it… Then a commotion erupts behind us. Most are shouts of encouragement for me to take Azra then and there, but a few are grumbles of outrage.
As expected, all the latter come from Antonio.
He’s being held back by three men who are a head taller than him, and his face is the color of beets.
He looks ready to tear the world apart.
It would be dishonest if I said I wasn’t one step behind him when the ruckus forces me to pull away from Azra long before I’ve had my fill.
As I inch back, Azra’s pulse races beneath her skin, and then slowly, torturously so, her eyes flutter open.
“See?” I whisper, incapable of reading the room when swamped by emotions I’ve never encountered. “Now he wants you.”
Azra stares at me like she’s struggling to decide whether to slap me or kiss me again.
Either way, I’m fucked.
That kiss… her kiss… fuck.