❝𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆? 𝑫𝒐 𝒊𝒕. 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍.❞
𝓓𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓬𝓸 𝓓𝓮 𝓛𝓪𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓲𝓼, the mafia leader, know as the manipulator.
𝓘𝓿𝓸𝓻𝔂 𝓗𝓪𝔂𝓮𝓼, known as the Rose.
When Iv...
"You got me looking so crazy right now, and your loves got me looking so crazy."
Chapter eighteen
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THERE'S TENSION.
AND THERE'S THE apprehension that's almost smothering.
It's the slight moment when your hands skim the others and bolts of shocking electricity jolt through your arms.
It's the glance you both share that sends waves of heat through your body.
It's the thoughts that surface in your mind about what's going to happen when you're alone with them.
It was hard for Nico to ever lose control.
He told me once that the most very important specialty of being a mafia leader was control.
You need it in order to survive and to think without giving yourself away for victim.
But he also told me I was the only one who ever made that shell crack. To make him give into that world of vulnerability and defenselessness.
This is my only conclusion as to why he hasn't uttered a word to me since he saw me in this dress.
Control.
He must think he couldn't control himself if he talked to me or even looked at me, because he hasn't been doing much looking at all.
His head was turned toward the window, his shoe-covered foot tapping rhythmically against the car's floor, his hand balled up tightly in a fist as if he wanted to touch me but was refraining.
I suppose I really do make him lose himself, even if that's not what I wish to do.
I hesitate for a second before softly capturing his fist in my hand.
He stiffens slightly, a deep but soft and slow sigh escaping his perfect lips.
I rub my thumb softly against his hand until it uncurls and the circulation to his fingers comes back.
He relaxes once I place a delicate kiss on his shoulder before leaning my head against him.
"You know, I'm not on fire; you can touch me." I tease softly as he bends his neck, laying his head gently on top of mine.
He lets out a weary huff of amusement through his nose and grazes his fingers up my thigh, slow, achingly slow.
"I know. But you in that dress; it took one look, and I was lost."
