Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
As we approach the elevator, it occurs to me that Julian could still be awake, and he might hear our arrival. I’m not sure what he’d do if he saw this man enter the penthouse with me in his arms. Fortunately, I don’t have to find out. When the private car arrives on the penthouse floor, it opens to a quiet space, exactly as I left it.
Eros turns and carries me toward my room without asking for directions—another problem to address later.
When he opens my door, Beppe pokes his head out from beneath a blanket. Upon sensing my current state, he hops out of bed to assess the situation. He doesn’t like it when I’m distressed and he can’t get to me easily, but after a quick sniff, he determines that Eros isn’t a threat.
Eros approaches my bed and tries to offload me, but my limbs seem to be locked around him, and I can’t let go. For a long moment, he stands there, deciding what to do with me.
I want to explain that this happens sometimes, but I’m still having trouble formulating a sentence. Eros seems to understand this, and he sits down on the bed with me on his lap.
Beppe uses his ramp to join us, lying against my leg to apply warmth and pressure.
Eros splays his hands across my back, massaging the tension from my body.
I’m not always comfortable with physical contact, and I tend to go rigid when someone touches me. But his comfort doesn’t feel unwelcome. It feels safe. So much so, it tips me over the edge of my emotional threshold, and tears leak from my eyes.
He doesn’t recoil or tell me to stop crying. Instead, he sits with me in silence, letting me process everything that happened tonight. Gradually, my body thaws, and I let out a shuddering breath as I come back to myself.
“Finished rebooting?” he murmurs, injecting some much-needed levity in the moment.
A soft laugh escapes me before I finally manage a sentence. “Yes, I think so. That happens sometimes.”
“Let me guess, you’re running the new cute-but-chaotic version?” he teases.
“Well, it’s definitely an upgrade from the I-messed-up-spectacularly version.”
“You couldn’t have known what they were planning.” The modulated tone softens.
“No, but I should have trusted my instincts. Something felt off, and I ignored it. I thought he was you. Or maybe that’s just what I wanted to believe.”
His body stiffens, and it’s obvious that bothers him…a lot.
“You did nothing wrong, Gabi. There never should have been any question about who you were talking to, and that’s on me.”
I’m not sure that’s a fair assessment, but when his thumb grazes my jaw, it’s all I can do to focus on his next words.
“I’ll never let him hurt you again.”
“Did you…beat them up?” I ask.
“Something like that,” he answers vaguely.
Silence stretches between us as I settle my face against his chest, soaking up his warmth. He combs his fingers through my hair, his heartbeat a steady, calming rhythm that almost lulls me to sleep.
It’s slightly unnerving how much I like this. I don’t even hug the closest people in my life, and I wasn’t sure how I would respond to this kind of intimacy. Even though I craved it, I feared I might never be able to relax enough to enjoy it.
Right now, I’m so relaxed I’m entertaining thoughts about climbing inside his hoodie and burrowing against him like Beppe does.
I shift slightly, pressing closer to him, and it’s impossible not to notice the huge, solid length beneath me.
“You have an erection.” The observation tumbles from my mouth before I can stop it.
Smooth.
“I’m aware.” A dry breath scrapes out of him. “Do you want me to move you now?”
“No.” My grip on him tightens. “Not yet.”
He nods, and I tilt my head to look up at him. “You’re still wearing your mask.”
“I’m shy.” He shrugs.
I don’t believe that for a second, but I suspect he means it as a joke.
“I like it.” I reach up, brushing my fingers over the material. “We can stay anonymous…or, at least, you can.”
“Still trying to keep things casual?”
The inflection of his voice changes, and even through the modulator, I detect a note of tension. This conversation didn’t end well last time, but I’m too embarrassed to admit I don’t want to get attached.
I don’t think I’m a casual kind of girl, given that I’m still not over my first and only love nine years later. I already gave my heart to someone else, and I can’t tear it in half. But even if I could, this thing between us can’t go anywhere. The mask feels like armor—a way to protect myself from getting too close to him.
Faces are intimate. Micro expressions. Eye color. The million little details we unconsciously study in every interaction. If I knew those things about him, it would only make it harder when I have to leave this behind for Riccardo.