Chapter 7
Gio
After sending one of my people to the store for a Plan B pill, I lounge in the living room and wait for Carissa. She’s still in the bathroom, drying her hair, wrapped up in one of my robes. She can take as long as she wants, because I need a breather.
All of my plans and intentions for tonight have gone to shit. Way off course.
In a short span of time, I’ve grown to like Carissa. A lot.
I’ve killed for her.
I’ve even made love to her so thoroughly, I lost my damn mind.
Since my wife died, I’ve enjoyed the company of expensive escorts. I always wear a condom. No exceptions. It’s my number one rule.
How did it slip my mind with Carissa? Because I’m not paying her to spread her legs?
Fuck. She’s so genuine, so real. Every sound, every shudder. And the way she begged… Not a single moment was a performance or a lie. I haven’t had sex like that since I was with my late wife. I’d forgotten how much I missed it. How much I crave authenticity. Something real.
Carissa has ruined me for any other woman.
Which is a big fucking problem, isn’t it? Tomorrow I have to kill her father because he hasn’t paid up. She’ll never forgive me for that.
At this point, she doesn’t even know who I am. Or my real name. With a sigh, I rake my fingers through my thick hair. I’m too old for this kind of drama.
Carissa emerges, looking good enough to eat in my robe that swallows her curvy body. She’s exactly my type. I felt right at home between her gorgeous thick thighs. Her soft stomach. And tits like melons, round and full and juicy. Just thinking about her body is making me hard again.
“Hi,” she says shyly, brushing a strand of brown hair behind one ear. All cleaned up and without makeup, she’s even more gorgeous. She also looks young—so very young and innocent.
A misplaced sliver of guilt lodges in my chest. She’s twenty-eight, plenty old enough to make her own life choices. Each time we’ve kissed, she’s either initiated it or said yes with her body.
Yet our imbalance extends way beyond our ages and life experience.
I’m rich, she’s not even close to being financially secure—and her fucking father isn’t helping in that department.
I’ve been married, raised a kid to adulthood, and seen more horrors than she can possibly imagine.
Not to mention the number of men I’ve put six feet under.
Carissa and I are nothing alike. Total opposites.
“Hello, tesoro.” I need to stop calling her that, but I can’t help it. “Come sit.”
She enters the living room and chooses a seat across from mine. For a moment, we simply gaze at each other. When she doesn’t demand to leave, I voice the question that’s most pressing on my mind.
“Why haven’t you called the cops? You saw me kill him.”
She searches my face before dropping her gaze to the floor. A faint blush colors her pale cheeks. She murmurs something, but it’s too faint for me to hear.
I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “What did you say?”
She glances up at me with those soulful, forest green eyes. “I said, because you killed him for me.”
Yes, I did. My chest warms. Something akin to pride swirling in the mix of unexpected emotions.
“Do you like the fact that I killed him for you?” I ask in a low tone.
“Yes.” Her breath catches at her admission. “I do. Rapists are rarely held accountable.”
Something in the way she says that sets off alarm bells in my head. Before I think too much about it, I ask, “That wasn’t the first time someone tried to..?”
Slowly, she shakes her head, and my vision clouds with a crimson haze. I’ll stop at nothing to dig through every inch of her past until I find out who touched her. Who hurt her. Then I’ll end them.
I’m not sure where that thought comes from, but I’m suddenly determined to see that promise through. No matter what becomes of us.
There is no us.
In the morning, this charade will come to an end. Until then…
“Come here.” The command’s soft.
She stands up and hesitantly glides toward me as I watch her. When she’s close, I reach for her hand and pull her onto my lap. She comes willingly.
I cup her cheek. “No one will hurt you ever again. I promise.”
She glances away. “I appreciate it, but you can’t make that promise.”
“Why not?” I ask, taken aback by her statement.
“Because… Because there are always people willing to hurt me and my loved ones. Can I tell you something?” Her piercing gaze finds mine, and I nod.
“My father owes this man money for a gambling debt. He says he paid it off, but I don’t believe him.
This wouldn’t be the first time he lied to me about something like this.
The thing is, I have a bad feeling this time.
Worse than usual. Like if he doesn’t pay, then he really will be killed.
No more warnings, no more false promises. I’ll lose the only family I have left.”
My gut twists at her perceptiveness. Without even knowing it’s me threatening her father, she’s correct. I collect on my debts—one way or the other. And I don’t make idle threats. She’s also right about her father. He hasn’t paid. If he had, we wouldn’t be here right now.
If he’d paid, I never would have met his daughter. Never would have touched her. Never would have killed a man for hurting her.
She’d be on that blind date with Marcus. I’d be unaware, living my lonely existence.
Life has a fucked up sense of humor.
Instead of coming clean, I dig my grave deeper. “Are you asking me to protect you from this man?” The hope in her eyes shatters me into tiny shards.
“Would you?” she asks in a small voice.
“Only if you’ll answer me this one question. Why do you keep taking care of your father when he does this to you again and again?”
She ducks her head, and I gently lift her chin to make her look at me.
“Because he’s the only family I have left.” She chews on her plump bottom lip. “And because it’s not his fault. He’s sick. This addiction is an illness. I can’t hold that against him. I can’t abandon him for something that isn’t his fault.”
My heart wrenches. This woman is too good for this world.
Especially too good for my dark corner of it.
“Then I will protect you.” I hear myself saying.
“And my father, too?” she asks, barely above a whisper.
“Him too.”
What in the hell am I doing? I’ve gone completely insane.
She leans forward in my lap. “Thank you.”
I brush my lips against hers, tasting her sweetness, reveling in it. I’ve missed this level of intimacy. Of fucking caring about another person. Having someone who actually needs me.
My son, Enzo, is an adult. He lives his own life, for the most part.
I trail my fingers through Carissa’s soft hair. She moans into my mouth. Sweet music to my ears. Lifting herself up, she straddles my thighs on the couch.
One tug and her robe falls open. I palm her breasts as she opens my own robe and strokes my growing cock. I drown in the feel of her touch.
She lines me up at her entrance and sinks down the full length of my dick. I swear a string of Italian curses. She feels so damn good. Heavenly. Divine. Like a home I didn’t realize I was missing. When she starts to ride me, I hold her wide hips and give thanks to God.
He and I both know I don’t deserve this woman. She’s some kind of miracle.
Carissa rides my cock with vigor, her tits bouncing in my face. Fuck, yes.
She chases her next orgasm. Seemingly more relaxed since she knows she’ll be taking that Plan B pill, and that I’m clean.
I tease her clit, making her buck as she falls apart in my arms with a throaty cry. Hanging on as her inner muscles milk my cock. As soon as she’s spent, I pick up the pace, holding her close as I thrust up into her tight cunt.
She’s so damn perfect.
I come in her again, coating her pussy with spurts of cum as a guttural roar leaves my mouth.
Both of us breathing hard, I pick her up and carry her to my bedroom. This night isn’t over yet.