Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 59304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Her breathing quickens, her chest rising and falling, causing the roundness of her breasts to brush against me. She raises her hand, hesitates, then presses it against my chest and digs her fingernails in just a little.
“This might make for an inappropriate photo,” she says breathily.
“What about this?” I lean down, guiding my lips toward hers. For a long, aching moment, I think she’s going to let it happen, her lips pursed as she looks up at me, her eyes filled with need.
At the last moment, before the kiss, she pushes against my chest, creating distance between us. Her expression turns suddenly angry.
“What?” I say. “I thought a kiss might make a good photo…”
“You’re getting too carried away, Dario. I’m not just going to kiss you because…”
“Because what? You want to? Because it’d be fun? Seeing that we’re in this idyllic place, why not make the most of it?” “You don’t know me,” she says. “You don’t know how I feel or what I want. Do you even know if I have a boyfriend?” “Do you?” I say.
“No, but that’s not the point.”
“Thank fuck,” I whisper.
She offers what I’m quickly starting to think of as her Siena Smile, one of conflict and uncertainty, gorgeous through and through. She shakes her head as if she can push the smile away.
“We’re both single then,” I go on. “What’s the issue?”
“You’re my boss’s son. Well, my client’s, so he might as well be my boss. I’m not the casual hookup sort of gal.”
“What if I wanted more?” I say with a note of irony, a smirk on my lips.
“Even if you weren’t just saying what you think I want to hear, I don’t want that. I just want to do a good job. That’s it. The end.”
“Keep telling yourself that, beautiful.”
She groans. “You make me want to pull my hair out.”
“If there’s any hair pulling to be done, I’ll be the one doing it.”
I grab her hips and pull her against me again, my rod growing stiff. She makes a breathy noise of pleasure and sinks her touch into my side, gazing deep into my eyes.
“Maybe that’s what you need, huh?” I trail my hand up her back and gently tug at her hair. “Someone to take charge? So that you don’t have to be in control all the time…”
She shakes her head slowly, but I can tell she likes it.
“Let go,” she whispers.
“Say that like you mean it.”
“It doesn’t matter how I say it. Let go, Dario!”
Slowly, I relinquish my touch, my control.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re mad,” I say.
“You’re a douche.” Her cheeks have turned red, and her eyes are sparkling and full of excitement. “You want me to treat you like a regular guy, like you’re not my client’s son? There it is, Dario. You’re a D-O-U-C-H-E.”
“And you fucking love it.”
She rolls her eyes as she turns away.
“Make sure you shift those hips for me like you did earlier.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, but she does it, and I know it’s on purpose because she looks over her shoulder again. She swishes her hips from side to side, hypnotizing me.
“Talk about mixed signals,” I call after her.
“It’s all in your head,” she replies.
“Keep telling yourself that, angel.”
Once she’s gone, I stuff my hands in my pockets and look down at the island before me. From up here, the people on the beach seem small, and the ocean seems endless.
The city, mafia business, my normal life–it all seems impossibly faraway.
CHAPTER 7
SIENA
The next morning, a party of around fifteen are walking toward the photo spot. I take up the rear with the photographer, Julian, who’s constantly checking his camera and fidgeting with his bag.
Up ahead, Dario walks with his mom and dad, his uncle, and his godfather close behind. Eddy and Rocco have similar names but different appearances and attitudes. Rocco is carefree, laughing, reminding me of Dario. Eddy is sour and looks at me like I’m doing something wrong by being here.
“I’m nervous,” Julian admits quietly.
“There’s no reason to be,” I reply, which is hypocritical because I haven’t stopped feeling nervous since we got here.
“This is a big, powerful family. I’m not used to directing people like this.”
“Just do what you usually do. They want the best photos, that’s all.”
“Hmm.”
He says nothing for a time, leaving my thoughts to stray to last night, to the near kiss, to the tension, to me calling Dario a douche and him telling me I wanted him and blah blah blah. I can’t afford to fixate on that, but I can’t seem to forget about it either.
Dario turns and throws me a secret look, making me feel… special. I pretend not to notice.
At the hill that leads to the highest point on the island, Julian paces a small circuit as the group breaks into smaller sub-groups and talks meanderingly. The small man’s nerves are clear as he runs his hand through his long, yellow hair.