Falling For The Mob

40 More time

Sam

I watch another tear run down her cheek before quickly thumbing it away.

Her back is pressed flat against the door as every part of her body inches away from me. She is crying because of me. I should not have come here, I should not be standing here making promises that I will not be able to keep. My mind is in conflict, yet I seem to be incapable of walking away.

"Tell me what you need me to do, Love."

"You can't be serious. Sam, this is a terrible idea."

My entire body feels as though it has been drained of blood, hearing those words. Her eyes land on the ceiling again, as if the answers will be carved between the gray patterns.

"You deserve better than what I can offer. I am sorry I put you through this." Again I apologize, something I never do, yet I have lost count how often those words have slipped out of my mouth towards her.

For a moment she studies me intensely, not even breathing. I see a flash in her eyes that I have never seen before, followed by what I presume is determination in her voice. "You get one chance. Don't make me regret this." Before I can react, she fists my jacket and pulls me in.

Feeling her lips on mine again, a pressure is released from my back that I was unaware has been knotted in my muscles.

I waste no time pinning her against the door with my weight. It is taking all my self-control not to strip her and immediately show her how much I have missed feeling her skin under my fingertips. I need to show her my value and remind her of what I can bring.

She nips at my lips and battles my tongue as my hand finds its way behind her back and clicks the lock of her office door. We have defiled this same office space before, yet to her, the sound comes as a sobering reminder, and she slowly begins pushing me off.

"We need to talk first."

I take a step back in agreement and make my way to the couch. Last time, we did not take the time to properly find common ground, it very possibly led to the problem.

I lean back, feeling more relaxed than I thought possible. Zoë, however, seems to only be capable of biting her nails and nervously pacing.

Watching her become more flustered by the second, I find myself unable to focus on anything but the faces she makes when underneath me. I need to stay on track.

"What are the new rules to this arrangement?"

She releases a nervous squeak before quickly collecting herself and taking the seat across from me. Gone is that confident woman taking control of me just a minute ago. "Okay, I don't want you calling it an arrangement."

"Well, Dr. DeLuca, what would you have me call this?" My question was meant to come across as flirting, but it only seems to upset her more.

"I don't know, this is new territory, Sam. I just don't want you being cold and calculated. I need you to care more about this, I need you to care more about me." Her eyes uncomfortably shift to the carpet with the end of her statement.

"I apologize, we do not need to put a label on this yet."

She nods, but her eyes still evade mine. "I am assuming that you wish to become monogamous, and as I mentioned, that will not be a problem."

The thought of Vincent Marino breathing in her direction already begins heating my blood, the last thing I want is anyone else touching her ever.

Briefly, she bites her lip. "Did you really not sleep with anyone else?"