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“I need flowers to be sent tomorrow morning.” “Of course. Would you like something specific? We have amazing red roses from the Netherlands and—” “I’ll take everything you have, except red roses.” “Oh? All of our roses except the red ones? Absolutely. Where—” “I said everything, Diana,” I say. “Write down the address. I need them delivered at six in the morning.”
“Ten-mile radius, Randy.”
Milene Scardoni, for whatever reason, has become a drug coursing through my veins. The more I get, the more I want.
“I hear India’s nice. He should consider staying there. It would be good for his health.”
A feeling of immense satisfaction passes through me upon hearing her say my name.
But I wasn’t satisfied with watching her from afar anymore. I want Milene Scardoni like I’ve never wanted anything else before.
She won’t be wearing another man’s things ever again.
I want to spend time with her, and she has no say in it.
“Jonathan,” he says into the phone, “I’m coming for a lunch with my wife in fifteen minutes. We don’t want to be disturbed.”
“In general. With one exception,” he says and levels me with that unnerving gaze of his. “You.”
“You shooed away a whole restaurant full of people?” “You said you wouldn’t be comfortable with them staring at you.” He pulls my hand closer. “Now they won’t.” My heartbeat skyrockets. That’s the most fucking romantic thing a man has ever done for me. “So, a hundred or more people had to leave in the middle of their meal because of my shorts?” “No. They had to leave because no one gets to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“He’s not from the Family, Milene. Therefore, he is not permitted to look at my wife unless I allow him to.”
He could give Satan a fucking run for his money. He’s just missing the damn horns and a pitchfork.
And I made sure the jeweler knew how I felt about that. Nino said the man will be staying in hospital for at least two weeks.
“Why”—he buries his fingers in my hair, pulling my head lower until my mouth almost touches his lips—“did I buy the bracelet, Milene?” “Because I liked it?” I whisper against his lips. “Because you liked it,” he says as he presses his mouth to mine.
It’s not a lie because I do need something—my regular fix of her presence. I couldn’t wait two more hours for her to come downstairs to work on my emails. I had to see her. Now.
“I already do. I imagine myself slamming into you, wrecking your sweet pussy every fucking night.” I thrust my fingers all the way in, enjoying her erratic panting. “But I only end up frustrated because you are so damn stubborn.”
“If you’re still there when I get down,” I sneer, “I will fucking shoot you in the head, Steven.”
“I’m not jealous.” I take a sip of coffee. “I just have an uncontrollable urge to kill any man who even looks at my wife.”
“You can try running,” he says and tilts my head up, “but I will catch you every time, Milene.”
“You’re safe with me because I’m the worst it can get, cara. And no one will dare touch what is mine.”
It’s like air to me, her smile. I need to see it. If I don’t, I’m going to lose my mind.
“I want you to smile at me every day,” I say next to her ear and slam into her again. “Every.” Slam. “Fucking.” Slam. “Day.”
“It’s all or nothing with me, Milene. You should have figured that out by now.”
“You have no idea what you do to me, Milene,” he whispers when he reaches my shoulder, and I tremble. “No fucking idea.”
I’ve never gone down on a woman before and never had the desire to do so, but with Milene, I want everything.
if he can’t see that I’m in love with him.
“You said you were going to leave me. Until I manage to forget that, Milene, I’m not letting you out of my reach.”
“I want to feel her skin when I touch her,” I answer. “And I can’t do that if I’m wearing a glove.”
“If even a seed of an idea of hurting my wife formed in anyone’s head, I would smash said head open with my bare hands like it’s a fucking watermelon,” I spit out. “Next, I would take out their sick brain and squeeze it so hard the only thing left would be mush.”
“Damn it, Milene, I’m going to fucking kill you! Get off me and lie on the floor!” he yells at the top of his lungs. “Right now!” “You’re a damn magnet for bullets, Salvatore.” I kiss his hair and tighten my grip. “And I’m pretty sure you’ve already used up your nine lives, so you’re not getting shot again today.”
“Vita mia,” he whispers. “Please. Get down.” Another bullet ricochets off the floor to our right, and I press myself more tightly to him. His body is shaking as though he has a fever. “I love you, Tore,” I say into his ear.
“I was so scared, Milene,” I whisper again, tracing the line of her eyebrow with the tip of my finger. “I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything like that before. It’s like I jumped off a cliff and watched the earth rise up to meet me, just waiting for the impact.” My finger travels down until it stops on her bottom lip. “I’ll get a fucking aneurysm because of you.”
“You don’t understand, Milene,” I say into her mouth. “Of course I do.” She smiles and looks right into my eyes. “I love you, too, Tore.”
“Yours does. Try giving one of the smiles that belong to me to someone else and watch the river of blood ensue.”
