Finding Arizona

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter 13

Dante Mesero

I don't have to answer to any damn body, I repeated to myself while staring at Olivia's, uh, I mean...Arizona's sleeping body. After I mentally decided that the weak wine wasn't enough, I ordered a much stronger liquor up to ease my thirst, pun fucking intended. She had that effect on me. I continued eying her up, because this was only one of the few chances I could resent yet admire her beauty: when she's not noticing, or when she's fucking sleeping.

And I fucking hated it. Hated looking at her like she was a piece of damn steak. I hated when other men looked at her like that, but I'm a hypocrite because I do the same. I probably look even harder. But I couldn't help it any damn more.

I used to be laid back and chill unless someone gave me a reason not to be, but ever since she appeared in my life, I've been angry and protective and guilty for no reason lately. It's her. Everything I feel is because of her and I feared I let her get too close. Now I can't even see myself and her going separate ways. It's impossible.

She fell asleep after she ate. I, on the other hand, couldn't. Lucky me. I started drinking the liquor in generous doses with the help of mini glasses in the cabinets in the shelf, but after losing almost every bit of self control I had in me to not wake her up out of her sleep and fuck her—God, yes, I said it, fuck her—I started taking the bottle to the head.

I continued staring at her damn limp body from my spot on the couch. I wanted it. And I knew I couldn't fucking have it. I wanted to be selfish though. I wanted to wake her up out of spite to piss her off. Because, if I can't go to sleep, she shouldn't be able to either, dammit.

I'm drunk, hard as fuck, and she's there. I'm drunk and...I'm about to have her.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I went in the bathroom and locked it for fear of what I might do. I'm not who everyone accused me of being three years ago. I'm not a fucking rapist and I won't be tonight, either.

I turned on the shower and made sure it was on cold completely.

I took off my clothes, one garment after another. I stepped in and hissed from the ice shards pelting down on me, but I sucked it up and dealt with it. Cause I've dealt with worse. I placed my forehead on the shower wall, thinking. I stared down at my erection and grimaced.

"It's your fucking fault." I muttered, glaring at it as if it could see me.

I wrapped my hand around my length as if I was choking it. I stroked up, then down. I growled at how good it felt. I didn't want it to feel good. I wanted it to hurt. I kept stroking. I thrust my hips in my hand, putting my other against the shower as I worked it.

I concentrated hard. I didn't mean for it to happen, but I started thinking about her.

"Cazzo." I bit out in my native tongue, thrusting my hips harder. I pumped harder, so hard it actually almost hurt. I watched as my balls swung and drew up as I neared climax. I turned around and pressed my back against the shower wall, the water continuing to fall. I pumped and pumped, my muscles flexing and becoming evident as I started to tense up.

I breathed inwards then out, "Shit! Cavolo. Ho bisogno di questo. Fuck, I need..." I couldn't even finish what I wanted to say before I thought about her asking me earlier if there was anything she could do to make it up to me from the fight prior to her question, and it did it for me. "Fuck!" I shouted at nothing in particular as three large ropes of cum spurted out of my dick.

I fell back against the shower wall in exhaustion. The shower continued running.

After a couple of minutes, I felt a little better about my situation with her and ran a hand over my face. I turned off the shower and dried off, walking out naked. She was still sleep, her back to me. I opened my suitcase for some clothes and deodorant. After throwing them on, I disposed of my other clothes.