Page 52 of The Don

Her smile is breathtaking. “Of course. But I’ve already started editing it in my head.”

“Oh?” I lead her toward a table in the center of the room.

“Not a lot,” she says. “But I think we can leave out everything after the pizza.”

I pull her chair out, and she sits. I kiss her behind her right ear.

“Bella?” I say, licking her earlobe.

She moans and turns her head just a little bit to get closer to my mouth.

“I promise you’ll have to edit today as well.”

It pains me that this is the first promise to Shae I cannot keep.

But I’ll make sure it’s the last.

* * *

Shae

Salvatore orders almost half the menu while I giggle, and my stomach growls louder by the second.

Our waiter is red-faced and shaking like a leaf, trying to balance writing down the dishes Salvatore wants me to try and glancing nervously at all of the bodyguards around the dining area.

My only contribution to this process is to whisper very loudly, “Make sure you get some bread.”

He smiles and finishes the order.

“Vino?” the waiter asks.

“No,” we say quickly.

“Just water, please.”

“Acqua frizzante,” he says, dismissing the boy with a warm smile.

He doesn’t run away, but I can tell that he wants to.

I’m certain that I should feel some way about that — that I’m with a man who makes people want to run — but when I look at Salvatore again, I can’t fathom it. I can’t imagine not wanting to spend all my time with him. The longer we’re together — the more he makes me come — I can’t even picture a future with anyone else.

I think it’s the way he looks at me. No, itisthe way he looks at me.

He sits back in his chair, crosses his legs, and rests his chin in his hand. He looks so much like he did the day we met, except now I know what he feels like inside me and what his come tastes like on my tongue. I’m not wondering and ruining that mental exploration with an echoing guilt because ‘what about Steve?’ There’s no Steve, only Salvatore, and that thought makes me smile.

“Are you happy?” he asks, his voice going low, his accent thickening.

“Yes,” I reply breathlessly. “Are you happy?”

“Like never before, but you know what would make me happier?”

Dear Jesus, I’ve never nodded faster or felt so eager in my life.

But I have been this horny since the moment Salvatore and I were alone in that apartment in Naples. Hell, since the first day I met him. Even when we were apart, I think I was just a banked fire, waiting for him to reignite the flame inside me.

I wonder what he’s going to tell me. What he’s going to tell me to do. What I want him to tell me to do, but he’s determined to make me wait.

* * *