Yara |18+|

16

YARA

I never truly experienced missing someone. Let alone someone I barely knew.

"Where have you been?" Vico murmured, pulling me away from him. He had his hands on my cheeks and a frown on his forehead, showing me that he was far from happy with me. I sighed, realising the irony of feeling safe with a man who killed more times that I could count.

I didn't care, and that was the fucked up part.

I wanted to be around him. Not only because he looked good in nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips. Okay maybe that was the main reason. But Vico was a...confusing individual. He was kind until he was not and I was yet to see that side. Did I? Absolutely not.

"Fuck it," he blurted, his thumb stroking my cheek. "I don't care. You okay?"

"I'm good," I said, meaning it. "Don't worry about me. But what happened to you?"

I pulled at his wrist and held both of his hands, staring down at the marks on his knuckles. "Rough week?" Rough week, indeed. I'd hate to be on the opposite end of those fists. Internally wincing, I dropped his hands and thought about how I wanted nothing more than to kiss him and forget my week.

He was a blissful distraction, almost. And I craved to take advantage of it.

He shrugged. "I guess you can say that."

"I brought your car back," I told him, slightly sheepish and I let out a heavy breath. "I took your car and made a dramatic run for it. I'm sorry, that was—I don't know what that was." Honestly, I was overwhelmed and made a quick discovery that Mario was not worth losing sleep over.

In fact, he was worth a good night's sleeping knowing that I wasn't dead when he wanted me to be. Rat. Sadness turned into anger, and anger turned into indifference. And it was the most peaceful feeling...unfortunately.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "You heard what you needed to. And that's all that matters, yes?"

"Yeah," I murmured, grinning at him when his face relaxed. Stressed man. He nodded his head and slid his hands over my waist, dragging me to him.

When he leaned down and kissed me on the lips, I was half tempted to have a repeat of our first night together. Like a breath of fresh air, I let the feeling take over me and succumbed to his kiss the way I needed to.
His hand intertwined through my hair, and he held me close enough for his bare chest to touch mine.

"You look so beautiful with your hair like this," he breathed, smiling into the kiss when he played with the ends of my curls. "I like it. A lot."

What am I doing here?

"Are you hiding?" he asked, pulling me away. "From Mario—I mean."

"No," I answered, shaking my head. "He's not here. He left the country."

"He did?" Vico asked, his expression one of confusion. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," I murmured.

He had left the country the day after my supposed death, quickly booking a one way ticket to an island. The only thing that fucked me over was the fact that he left his wife and kid all alone while he wandered off. To hide? To plan? Heaven knew.

My week was also spent tracking him, and talking to Alexis and finding out anything I could use on Mario in case he wanted to be funny. It was a tricky situation, but I wanted to forget about it.

My fingers slipped over Vico's abdomen, feeling the hard muscles contracting underneath my touch. I liked the way his body responded to me, even when it had been seven days since our last contact. He gave me a look that almost translated to 'do you really want to go there?'

"Are you going to stay?" Vico asked, staring down at my body and the clothes I wore. It was clear I had no intention of staying, but it wouldn't hurt. Would it?

"I didn't plan on staying," I told him, watching his face falter.

"I'm so sick of you, Yara," he said, rolling his eyes at me and I felt him grasp onto my hand. "You're staying the night, yeah?"

I let out a small laugh. "You want to stay?"

"No," he said, giving me a bored look. "I want you to get into my car that you stole and drive off into the sunset. Of course I want you to stay." He let go of me, returning to the laptop to shut it. He held his towel with one hand, right in the middle and I tilted my head to the side to enjoy the way he looked.

Vico was tall, and I didn't pay attention to it until I caught the side view of him. I liked how tall he was. And toned. And tattooed. Yes, I'll stay.

Vico took my hand, leading me to his room and silently sat me down on the bed. When he dropped his towel, I was ready to drop to my knees. Instead, he went into his closet and dressed himself.

"Aw," I murmured, disappointed when he returned fully clothed in a white t-shirt and boxers. He grinned, and I caught sight of the dimples that didn't show too often. Vico shook his head, visibly amused and I shrugged when he gave me a look.

I couldn't help that he just casually looked like that.

In all honesty, I came to Vico because he was the only person I felt compelled to pay a visit to. After one night, how is it that he became the one I could potentially trust?

Because he told me about Mario? Or because he let me live and even went as far to fuck me after I held a knife to his throat?  Or am I naïve and this was one big ploy for the ultimate revenge? Whatever it was, I was sick of thinking about it. I was sick of thinking—in general.

"You know," he started, using the mirror to apply moisturizer on his face. "I don't even live here."

I sat up straight, watching as Vico chuckled at the expression I couldn't conceal.

"You don't?" I asked, gazing around his luxurious bedroom. Then who the fuck lives here?

"It's mine." He turned around, facing me. "I just don't live here. I stayed here for the week, because I knew that this would be only place you could find me if you needed help."

"You're lying," I muttered, utterly in awe. And unsurprisingly, there I was—in a home I knew I could find him at.

"I wish I was," he murmured, his voice soft and gentle when he sat next to me. "And no, I didn't bring you to my fuck house." How did he know I was thinking that? Even though he told me the last time he'd been with a woman was two years ago.

"But you're staying, right?" he said, staring at me with those soft brown eyes.

I nodded. "Of course."

When he smiled, I knew I had made the right decision. "Good. I better feed you. You hungry?"

I grinned, "Starving."

• • •

Read up to Chapter 27 on my patreon!
patreon.com/onlyshannon

❤️