Chapter 42
He drove like a man possessed, his fingers gripping the steering wheel and the gearshift with white knuckles, arms rigid, his face frozen between loathing and rage.
“Renzo, take me back. I hadn’t seen them in weeks. We had plans.”
“If I have to hear about you and those men one more time, Ainsley, I’ll put you over my knee until your ass is so red, you’ll think of me and only me.”
“Stop acting like a caveman. You can’t just show up like this and take me away.”
“Yes, I fucking can.”
“Just let me out of the car. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Yes, you fucking are.”
Every protest I gave caused a twitch of his eye or cheek.
Every complaint had him pressing further on the accelerator or veering abruptly in turns, only to brake once he reached ten mph over the speed limit or went downhill.
It was jarring, and I clutched the grab handles for dear life.
It was a miracle he hadn’t hit anyone, but since it was late morning on a weekday before lunch, most people weren’t out and about on the street.
“What is going on with you? Answer me, damn it.”
His eyes stayed focused on the road. Houses soared past. Cable cars trundled by, their bells barely heard over Renzo’s monster car engine.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
He finally slowed down as we approached Golden Gate Park from the northeast. It was hard to hold on to my irritation as we drove at a crawl past the meadows and botanical gardens.
I loved this place. This city oasis was peaceful yet lively in a way the rest of San Francisco wasn’t.
I rolled down my window, taking in the scents of the greenery and freshly cut grass.
He pulled into a parking lot deep in the park with a few cars spaced around us. For a while, we sat still, staring out the windows, saying nothing at all. I picked at my upper lip, then rubbed my hands over one another.
“Why did you bring me here?” I whispered.
Three things seemed to happen simultaneously.
His seat reared back, my seatbelt clicked open, and he lifted me out of my seat to straddle him without bumping my head on the roof.
My hands rested on his shoulders, one of my knees propped up the edge of his seat cushion, the other raised atop his leg.
Our eyes locked and held, the anger in his replaced by the same intense need building inside me.
My heart thumped loud in my ears. My body was light and heavy at the same time.
His mouth was right there for the taking. A few inches forward, and we’d meet.
His right hand cupped my cheek, all warm and encompassing. I melted against his touch, despite how angry I’d been. It was sweet and tender, the exact opposite of the man I’d known so far.
“Renzo,” I murmured, pressing my cheek further into his hand, never breaking eye contact. His eyes were the color of leaves refracted through a drop of morning dew, and their entire maddening focus was on me. “I’m mad at you.”
“Are you?”
I was supposed to be. I should be, but with the blend of his manhandling and tenderness, my brain was on the fritz, and my libido was going into overdrive.
His hand swept down the side of my throat and to the back of my neck, gradually becoming more forceful. He tugged my head closer, his forehead bent down to touch mine.
“Tell me, Ainsley. Were you with them to grab my attention?”
“Who?” I asked, caught off guard. “Marc and Joseph?”
His fingers squeezed my nape in a soft warning.
“I don’t like seeing you with other men,” he groused.
“They’re just friends.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s what they want.”
“It doesn’t matter what they want.”
“Why?” He wrapped a hand around my hair and tugged my head back, exposing my neck. His lips nipped kisses down my throat, and I shivered with each one. “Tell me why?”
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Half-heartedly, I pushed against his chest. He only pulled me closer.
“Tell me.” His breath was warm against my skin, his dominance intoxicating. If I sat on him fully, I’d be pressed against the swell of his groin. Just knowing that he held me close, not caring who saw, sent my blood rushing in my ears. I ached for him. Only him. Only ever him, no matter what.
“I don’t want them.” I offered more of my throat to him. The strap of my top slipped from my shoulder. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”
“Is that right?” The way his gravelly voice vibrated against my skin sent electric tingles all the way past my belly button.
“Yes…” I breathed.
With one hand still wrapped in my hair, he unbuttoned my pants with the other. I tried to peek around to make sure no one was watching, but he kept a firm hold on my head.
“Eyes on me,” he growled.
“Renzo.”
“No. Look at me. No one else matters but you and me.”
“If someone sees—”
“Let them watch. Let the whole world see you’re mine.”
I breathed hard and deep through his words, my ears practically ringing at the thought that someone might know his hand was down my pants. That someone might watch as I bucked off his fingers as they slapped at my pussy over my underwear.
His eyes gleamed, almost otherworldly in how they pulled me in and tempted me.
He’d always been my demon from the very beginning.
First, my demon of wrath, then pride, and now lust. Those eyes studied my every expression as his fingers tugged aside my underwear, and two of them worked me open until my pussy lips wrapped around the base of his signet ring. My mouth opened in a silent scream.
“That’s it, civetta. Feel me.”
“We shouldn’t…” I said, losing my train of thought. His fingers glided in and out with forceful pumps.
“Yes, we should.”
“This is…this is just a com-competition to you.” A strangled gasp escaped me as his fingers toyed with my clit, my slit, then plunged inside me again. He pumped, then flicked, then caressed until I could barely hold myself up. My mind went foggy.
“Is it?”
“You didn’t come,” I said with a whimpered groan. My hips took on a mind of their own. They rocked to his movements and chased his fingers for more. “For four days. You didn’t come until I was out with Jo—”
“Don’t say their names,” he growled. “I could punish you for even thinking of them while I touch you.”
His rhythm increased, almost punishingly so, relentless and demanding, just like him, and I was here for it.
“Why now?” My voice was strangled with need.
“Because of this.” His fingers impaled me forcefully and stayed there.
I clenched around them, lifting my hips up and down despite his grip around my neck, chasing that godly high.
The caresses of his thumb against my clit sharpened every peak and drop.
“Your body. Your sweetness. Your determination. Your voice. Your heart. But most of all because I need to show you what you mean to me. You infested my brain like a disease. I can’t get you out.
I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’ll never want that. ”
Only then did he start moving again. Everything electrified, the world outside of us muted.
It was just us. I could hear how deep his every breath was.
I could practically taste him from where I was, a potent mix of salty and sweet.
My body thrummed and pulsed until it was almost too much.
Suddenly, it all burst into wave after wave of ecstasy, colors flashing behind my closed eyes, my ears ringing.
I moaned through it all and lost my grip on the headrest, clutching his shoulder instead.
“Good girl. That’s it.” He nosed my cheek. “No one but us.”
Us. That was the fantasy, wasn’t it?
“What is this, Renzo?” I asked breathily, my eyes still closed. If I couldn’t see, the fantasy of whatever this was wouldn’t end.
“Whatever you want.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You. This. Us. I’m prioritizing.”
“What?” I pulled back to read his expression.
“Right now, my men are raiding Dimakos’ hide-out. But I’m not there. I’m with you. Exactly where I want to be.” He pulled me down on top of his thighs, the bulge of his hard shaft smacking between my legs. My breath caught.
“Why?”
“You know why.” Then he whispered, his breath hot and heavy, “You’re my woman.”
I shook my head against his cheek. “But you didn’t show up. You never even called. Just messages.” He bit my earlobe, and I gasped.
“I gave you time, like you needed, but I refuse to cut contact. Don’t ask me to do that.”
“Why didn’t you come for me before?”
“If I showed up the first day, would you have forgiven me?” he whispered, then bit my ear a little harder, enough to shock a little clarity back into my brain.
“No,” I murmured.
“I know.” He sucked where he’d bitten, and I shivered. “You needed a little time to be wooed so I could show you exactly what you mean to me.”
I thought back to the absurd diversity of gift baskets, flowers, and more. It felt like an explosion of whatever came to mind, with added personal touches. “And what’s that?”
“Everything. You mean everything, and I’ll give you everything.”
I chortled. “You think it’s that easy?”
“For what we have? What we’ve been through? Absolutely.”
Every nerve in my body was on fire. His fingers swam up and down my spine in caresses that had me shivering. Then he tugged me closer from the base of my spine, driving me against his hard cock. I groaned. A cruel smirk pulled at his lips.
“That’s right, civetta. Say you’re mine.”
I hesitated. I was, but only if he made the effort. I’d been hung up on him for too long already, with little to nothing to show for it.
He didn’t let me waver for long. The featherlight touch of his lips and the flicks of his tongue on my throat contrasted deliciously with the pressure of his fingers around my neck.
My need for him thrummed through every inch of my skin.
If he pulled my pants down and unzipped his, I didn’t think I would refuse him.
It didn’t matter how exposed we were. All that mattered was that he was mine as much as I was his. I wouldn’t compromise on that.
“Say you’re not afraid to want to be with me,” I demanded.
“I’m not. I’m not afraid of anything, civetta. Except not having you in my life.”
I stared into his eyes, searching for the truth of that statement.
It was there, plain to see and all laid out for me, in the way his gaze was soft and tender, while everyone else saw only his hard exterior.
It was in the way he held me, both gentle yet dominating.
In the way he touched me to enjoy, never to force.
I kissed him, falling into everything he offered.
“Let me hear you say you’re mine.” He sucked my lower lip, his hands roaming through my hair and over my waist, my shirt catching on his ring.
“I’m yours only if you’re mine.”
“Always. Say no one gets you but me.”
My hips ground against him, seeking him out. So good. The thrill of knowing he was all mine for the taking brought out every wanton thought I’d ever had.
“There’s only ever been you.”
“They’ve never had you?”
“Never,” I mindlessly said, chasing another high through our clothes. “No one has. Only you. You were my first.”
He reared back, his palms cupping my cheeks, eyes bouncing between mine.
I didn’t freeze. I didn’t shy away in embarrassment.
I was proud I’d waited for him, so I kept grinding.
I let myself be as needy as I wanted in his lap, let him watch what he did to me.
The way he unraveled was a thing of beauty.
His mouth crashed into mine. It was violent and demanding, deep and consuming. His tongue pushed past my lips, taking ownership. His fingers dug into my hips, marking them as his. His hard erection throbbed in his pants between my legs.
The moment I went for his zipper, he pulled back. He cradled my head against his chest and neck, shoulders heaving.
“Not here,” he muttered. “No one but me gets to see you like this.”
In the four times we’d been intimate, this was the first time I nestled against him. He was warm and firm, his shirt soft. His woodsy scent with spicy undertones wrapped around me in a soothing, heady shroud.
I smiled against him. If we weren’t in the front seat of his car, out in the open, I’d have happily napped during those delicious few minutes as his fingers swept up and down my spine.
“Come on,” he finally said, opening his car door.
It was a typical San Francisco cloudy day, but still brighter than it had been inside Renzo’s tinted-window car.
The wind rustled leaves and branches throughout the park.
The bright-green grass swayed. A dog barked somewhere in the distance.
While the soft ting of bike bells echoed from every corner of the parking lot, the honks of cars and the screech of brakes were smothered.
The air smelled fresher than in the streets, and the greenery livened up the gray sky.
“You still haven’t told me why we’re here.”
“I’m taking my woman out on a date.”
Renzo’s hand wrapped around mine. I glanced down at it, then back at him.
“You sure about this?”
“Absolutely. You once asked me to walk the JFK Promenade with you. Let’s do that.”
He remembered. It was in one of the hundreds of letters we’d exchanged.
My eyes glazed over at the soft look in his sharp features.
The first time I saw him, when I was fourteen, I’d thought he was one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen, all dark and mysterious.
Now, his face was leaner. His cheekbones and jawline were more defined, and the start of crow’s feet decorated the corners of his eyes.
If possible, he was even more mesmerizing than before.
I smiled softly and gently swung our joined hands.
“Let’s.”
We strolled about a mile through a mix of the promenade path and the trails cutting through the forests and meadows.
We kissed against trees. We picnicked and cuddled in the grass, gorging on tacos.
We boated around Blue Heron Lake and walked up Strawberry Island to see the waterfalls.
We even got the chance to sneak off the path for a quickie against a tree before carving our initials into it. It was the perfect date.
As he held me from behind, his chin on my head, we gazed out at the city and the top half of the Golden Gate Bridge standing far in the distance. It felt like everything was at peace with the world.
Then Renzo’s phone rang, and the bubble burst.