17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
Mialina
Maximo’s mouth crashes against mine, stealing my breath before I can even gasp.
Heat rushes through me, scattering every sensible thought I had. Any of my objections die before they even have a chance to form.
A crisp gust of wind whips through the garden as his hand tightens at my waist, drawing me closer against the hard line of his body.
And oh God, is he hard! I can feel the outline of his cock against me.
The rest of the world blurs until there’s only the pressure of his lips and the thick length of him pressed against my pussy.
My whole body tingles. He slides a hand beneath my shirt, grazing my nipple, and I feel that touch all the way down to my clit. I moan against his lips, wanting more. He cups my breast, circling his thumb over the erect peak.
“Yes,” I sigh. That feels so good!
His other hand strokes over my hip and starts traveling lower.
I need him to touch me. His fingers reach the waistband of my panties and slip beneath it. So close…
My breath catches. I lift into his hand, desperate for the contact.
“Ladies, we’ll begin our descent into Chicago shortly. Please remain seated and make sure your seat belts are fastened.”
I jerk awake.
For a second, I just stare ahead, my heart pounding, before the cabin around me comes back into focus. Cream leather and dark polished wood surround me, and the low hum of the engines vibrates beneath my feet.
Maximo’s plane.
My body is still buzzing as I pull up the cashmere blanket that’s slipped halfway into my lap sometime during the flight.
Great. Apparently crossing the Atlantic on Maximo Marco’s obscenely luxurious private jet has infected my subconscious too.
I drag a hand over my face and stare out the window, feeling frustrated and annoyingly aroused.
Every single night since Mamma announced we were going to Chicago, I’ve dreamed about that arrogant man.
Argh. It was just one kiss.
How can it affect me so much? I bet Maximo isn’t replaying it constantly. Now that thought makes me angry. Stronzo.
I wonder how Isa is getting on with all her kissing. With a little scheming help from me, she managed to stay back in Sicily. She and Sebastian are planning to elope, and by the time we return from Chicago, surprise, she’ll be married.
I have no idea how this will go down, but I’m excited for her. I trust her judgment and I can’t wait to meet my new brother-in-law.
Across from me, Ari stirs beneath a thick layer of blankets, asleep with her headphones half falling off. Mamma sits farther back in the cabin reading something on her tablet, the screen casting a faint glow over her face.
Sienna, meanwhile, watches a movie with suspiciously red eyes that probably mean she’s been crying again over whatever tragic romance she picked this time.
I sit up straighter and lean over to look out the window. Outside, clouds drift beneath the jet as scattered city lights begin appearing below us.
It won’t be long now before we arrive. Excitement fizzes through me, my stomach suddenly full of butterflies.
I’ve never left Sicily before.
There’s so much I want to do. I want to see the skyscrapers and finally experience snow. And shopping somewhere nobody knows my name sounds pretty damn appealing too.
I just hope Maximo won’t be at the airport. The thought sends a ridiculous flutter through my stomach, and I roll my eyes at myself.
Remember, you don’t want to see him at all.
And I won’t. Men like Maximo Marco don’t pick people up personally. They send drivers. Entire security teams probably.
Still, my pulse hiccups a little. I scowl harder at the window. That reaction is entirely unacceptable.
Though perhaps I’m simply looking forward to sparring with him again. It is kind of fun. Poking at a man powerful enough to terrify half a room and watching him refuse to lose his temper has its appeal.
And denying him what he wants? I could do that all day.
Maximo might be used to people falling into line around him, but I’m not one of his soldiers, one of his business deals, or one of the ambitious women mentally auditioning for the role of Mrs. Marco.
I’m not up for grabs. He’s not going to claim me.
The soft click of the intercom interrupts my thoughts.
“Ladies,” the pilot comes on again. “We’ll be landing shortly. It should be a smooth descent, with clear skies and very little wind. Current temperature in Chicago is negative six degrees.”
Ari groans in her sleep as if she somehow sensed it psychically.
Negative six.
That can’t possibly be a temperature civilized people voluntarily tolerate.
Hmm, I guess I’ll have to layer up to go exploring.
I stare out the window as the jet continues its descent, and Chicago appears beneath us.
The city stretches endlessly beside the dark water of the lake, all steel, glass, and glittering lights beneath the fading afternoon sky. Snow dusts the rooftops and highways, and the skyscrapers look almost unreal from up here.
This is Maximo’s city.
Just thinking his name sends another irritating rush of anticipation through me. I instantly resent it and force my attention back to the view outside instead.
Everything here seems wildly different from Sicily.
The moment we step out of the jet, freezing air slaps me in the face.
“Oh God,” Sienna groans, clutching her coat tighter around herself. “People should not live like this.”
A laugh escapes Mamma as snow crunches beneath our shoes across the tarmac.
The private airport around us glows with white lights against the late afternoon darkness, sleek black SUVs already waiting nearby. Men in dark coats stand watch beside them, their breath fogging in the icy air.
Then one of the SUV doors opens, and I hold my breath to see who will emerge.
Aldo steps out a second later, and I exhale, the air fogging around me. Good. It’s not him. I’m so glad.
Mamma’s entire face lights up. So does Aldo’s, his expression warming as he crosses toward us.
“Welcome to Chicago,” he says, kissing Mamma lightly on both cheeks before greeting Sienna, Ari, and me.
“You neglected to mention Chicago is located inside a freezer,” I tease.
“That’s part of the charm.”
“It’s absolutely not,” Sienna mutters.
His laugh rumbles warmly through the cold air as he ushers us to the waiting vehicles.
“I hope you girls still have some energy left tonight,” he says once we’re settled inside the heated car. “There’s a birthday celebration this evening. I’d like us all to attend.”
Mamma looks surprised beside him.
“Whose birthday?” she asks. Hopefully, she wants to get out of it as badly as I do.
I haven’t flown halfway around the globe to go to some stranger’s birthday celebration. That’s not my idea of fun.
Aldo gives a sheepish smile that looks oddly boyish on a man like him.
“Mine.”
“Aldo,” Mamma exclaims. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It was a few days ago.”
“You should have told me. I would have wanted to get a present for you.”
“Well, I’ve got the best present right here with me now.”
Sienna and I share a look, while Mamma beams up at him. The way they look at each other is impossible to miss, and I’m still not sure how I feel about it.
“I usually don’t make much fuss about it,” Aldo explains. “But Maximo believes the senior members of the organization should be properly acknowledged. Apparently, letting occasions like this pass unnoticed is no longer encouraged.”
The mention of Maximo immediately sharpens my attention.
“Is it at your house?” I ask, wondering if we’re going to roll up to a mansion full of people… and Maximo.
“No, it’s at the Marco estate.”
Of course he’ll be there then. The universe couldn’t even grant me one evening to recover from crossing an ocean before throwing Maximo Marco back in my path.
I turn my attention firmly toward the passing streetlights outside the window.
“Well,” Mamma says warmly, touching Aldo’s arm, “of course we’ll come.”
Shouldn’t she check with me first before making that decision?
“A brief appearance would be polite,” Aldo adds. “Especially since many people are eager to meet you properly.”
That sounds horrifying.
“I might stay behind,” I say casually. “I’m exhausted after the flight.” Never mind that I slept for most of it.
Aldo studies me for a second, far too perceptive for my liking.
“You can leave early if you wish,” he says. “But I’d appreciate it if you came for at least a little while.”
Why? Did Maximo tell him to bring me? That would be something he’d do, wouldn’t it?
Unfortunately, backing out now would make me look like a coward, and my pride won’t allow that. So I sigh dramatically.
Admittedly, somewhere beneath my annoyance, I’m looking forward to it the tiniest bit, which is clearly more than I should.
These next two weeks aren’t going to be boring, will they?