"You like it, don't you?"
"What?" I managed to breathe.
"The fear, Miss Night," he mused, "you crave it."
_______________________________________
Sabina Night owes Antonio Marafi her life.
But when he asks her to spy on the Russo crime family, Sabin...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The man's hand tightened around my throat as his drunken fingers fumbled with the buttons on my jeans. I gripped his arm, trying to yank it off of me but his hold was too strong.
The first button popped. I tried to scream. Tried to yell for somebody to help. The man smiled, foul smelling breath and yellowing teeth. He smelled like stale liquor and cheap cigarettes from the corner store.
My feet kicked out, trying to find some place to land. He opened his mouth to speak, to say something horrible. To tell me exactly what was about to happen. But—
"Sweetheart, if you don't move your hand I'm going to assume you're awake and trying to make a pass at me."
My eyes shot open at the deep male voice, gravelly with sleep. The beating of my heart didn't slow when I saw who laid in the bed next to me. In fact, it might've sped up when I saw a familiar smirk sleepily spread across Gio's face, his eyes still closed.
My hand was positioned just over his boxers, close enough to be precarious. I snapped it back to my side, but he caught it in his own hand before I could. Brown eyes opened and met mine.
"Buongiorno, amore mio," he murmured, pressing his lips to my palm.
I repeated the phrase back in my best imitation of the Italian words he said and the way he said them.
He grinned. "You know what you just said?"
"Some variation of 'good morning' I'm assuming." I shrugged a little and laid my head back down on his chest. "Something like that."
His arms tightened around me.
"Very good. Yes. Something like that."
We were quiet for a few moments, my nightmare all but forgotten with the warmth of Gio's body next to me and his hard muscle on display for me to touch. Yesterday seemed like a distant memory, almost as real as the dream I'd just had. Though I suppose that too was a distant memory.
"Gio," I gasped, shooting up so I was sitting cross-legged in the bed. The man in question blinked at me. "It's your birthday!"
He chuckled a little, settling back into the pillows when he realized there was no threat apart from my sudden excitement. He tugged my arm back down so I was pressed against his chest once again. As my bare leg draped over his, I realized with some embarrassment that I was only wearing his shirt and my underwear to cover me.
"So it is."
"Happy birthday." I poked his side and he squeezed my butt in retaliation, his eyes shutting.
"Thank you," he said, "now can we go back to sleep?"
"Nope. I'm wide awake now. What do you want to do today?"
