Page 15 of His Vicious Vow
I’m frozen in place as he crosses to me. Ah crap, I’m drooling again—in both places. Catching some of my hair in his grasp, he tugs lightly. “I can’t believe I miss the pink hair. Chestnut hair might suit you better but the pink was cute…on second thought I’m not hungry. For food.”
I don’t dare open my mouth. All I can do is shake my head before fleeing into my bedroom and slamming the door. The asshole is chuckling.
Resentment strengthens my spine. Opening my closet, I sigh. I’ve only got a few things in here. How did this even get in here? Oh, right this is Celia’s. I accidentally grabbed it when I was doing laundry. I meant to give it back but forgot before I left for New York. It’s a black shirt dress in a soft linen. Along the side it has drawstrings to bring it in tighter. The long sleeves were what made me think it was mine, the cuffs are bell shaped. Celia is five six to my five foot three. It’s not a huge difference but I’m grateful the hem of the dress is below my knees.
Since I’m short and fat, dresses aren’t my favorite. I prefer skirts and tops any day of the week. I grab the balm I have a dozen of so I never run out and apply to my inner thighs so they don’t feel shredded after I wear a skirt for an hour.
I wince at wondering what he thought when he had to have smelled the coconut of the balm when he went down on me. How embarrassing, I doubt his normal women have to worry about their inner thighs rubbing together. Wait. He said he dated women who were my size or only a little thinner. So was he a chubby chaser or something? Whatever, it’s none of my business.
Shaking my head, I grab my black velvet booties and it takes a minute to get them on. Once I’m done I turn to the mirror and flick on the lights. All I can hear is Sandro saying I need to look like an adult.
He wants an adult? Okay, he’ll get an adult.
Makeup started as fun, another element to cosplaying, to becoming someone else. It really did become war paint. I became who I wanted to be. As I contour I disappear until I’m the kind of woman Sandro belongs with. Dark red shadow matches his shirt, a smoky eye of black surrounding it. I use a deeper red for my lips, exaggerating the fullness of my bottom lip.
Done, it’s what he asked for.
His cell phone rings reminding me to put my cell phone in my wristlet. As I do I see the time, holy crap it’s almost eight o’clock. At least he’s patient. When I open the door he’s speaking Italian in a rapid flow. He sees me and stops talking. Heat hits me hard in the chest. Blue goes to sapphire in an instant. Damn it. I’m drooling again—in both places.
One step forward from him brings him within inches of me. “On second thought, let’s stay in. I’ll ruin your makeup the way you want me to. I’m good with my cock becoming the shade of red from your lips.”
Hating the way he knows I shake my head.
He laughs. Catching my hair in a firm grip, he forces my eyes to him. Oh god, oh god, oh my fucking god I’m so wet from the way he is fisting my hair. “For the record. I prefer the naked look, all the time. You need the makeup to hide behind, fine. But I don’t want you hiding from me. I’m letting it go this time because I’m fucking starving and if we stay here even five more minutes I’ll take you to bed and fuck you the way we both want.”
All I can do is shake my head. I need him to let me go before I do something ridiculously stupid like beg him to do just that.
Lowering his mouth to my ear. “I would believe you if I couldn’t smell you wet with need.” Please, can I shrivel up and die now? “All I’ve thought about today is how sweet you taste. How soon until I taste you again. You’ll be my queen and your throne will be my face.” The fucker chuckles as he lets me go. “Come along, dear wife.”
I consider fleeing back into my bedroom and locking the door against him but it wouldn’t stop him. With a deep breath I force myself to follow him. He takes the key from me to lock the door. I let it go without arguing. Trying to put as much space between us as possible.
A Maybach is in the driveway without a driver in sight. I’m surprised, I wasn’t aware he came to Chicago very often. “You have a car here?”
His hand goes down to my lower back and I jump at the shock it sends through me. “That little jump is what you do to my cock every time I see you.”
I can’t hide my shiver and hate him and myself for it.
Sandro opens the passenger door for me getting me to move faster to catch up to him. “I had a chat with Milos Levin today. Since I’m not interested in Carlo listening and watching my every move. Milos was willing to loan me this. And for the record your car is going back to him tomorrow. You don’t need it and you don’t drive a car paid for by another man.”
“Celia gave me the car. You don’t get to take it away from me.” It doesn’t matter I keep forgetting it’s mine and I’ve only driven it once since she gave it to me last week. Then I realize what he said. “Carlo is watching you? What did you talk to Milos about?”
When he gets in I swear what felt like a large interior shrinks. He’s too close, the scent of his cologne is teasing me and I fight to inhale him deep.
He nods. “Seatbelt.” He fastens his own before putting the car in gear. “He’s a control freak who feels the need to watch and listen to everything he can. I’m not excusing what happened at his home. But I didn’t dare indicate I was…pleased with you. If I had he would have used it against me to try and renegotiate or manipulate you or me.”
“Wait, is he watching me too?” Fear twists my stomach wondering if he’s seen me preparing to leave.
“Not from what I can tell. But just in case, every time I’ve gone into your place I’ve used a jammer to cut recording voice and cameras. It’s also why I refused to stay at his place. I’m at a hotel downtown Dominic recommended.”
“Have you not been in Chicago before? And what did you talk to Milos about?” I want to know what him and Milos talked about.
“I’ve been here once, last year. I’ll buy a house here so you always have a place to stay to visit your sister and mother.”
The offer twists my stomach into knots. I don’t want him to be nice. He needs to stay a dick. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not marrying you?”
He sighs. “Carina, do you really think if I don’t marry you that your father will let you pick your own husband? I understand this isn’t something you want. You aren’t the only one. However, I’ve worked too damn hard for almost twenty years to give up being number one in Vegas.”
I close my eyes. Even if Carlo thinks he can marry me off to someone else, it won’t happen if I’m not here. What Sandro does or doesn’t get is nothing to do with me. I’m not responsible for him.