The Italian Dom by N.J. Adel
CHAPTER 11
Domenico
The second the driver put her bags inside the condo and left us alone, she gave me back my coat. “Now what?”
I studied her place instead of raking her body up and down in that purple silk. It didn’t cover the details of her body or her nipples that looked like little rocks or the wet stain between her legs. Fuck, I’d bet my right arm she was masturbating when I came into her room.
My cock jerked, and I walked away, scanning the place, making sure it was clear, reminding myself of why I was really here. To protect her. To show Tino I was worthy of her. To show her she could trust me.
The apartment was small. Two bedrooms and a living room with an open kitchen. The Bellomos owned the building, and all security personnel were soldiers. The neighborhood was quiet, and as I understood Tino still owned the penthouse of the apartment building across the street, and a couple of his soldiers guarded it, too.
“Which one is your room?” I asked.
She pointed at the one on the left down the hall. I took her bags and checked the room one more time. Other than the crazy mess of massive sheets of paper, architecture books, models and drawing tools that occupied every single space between her bed, desk, dresser and closet, there was nothing to worry about. Actually, there was nothing else in there. No chick books, no CDs or iPod, no scattered makeup products or clothes, no nothing. Obviously, she wasn’t a neat freak, even her empty closet was a mess of forsaken boxes and more architecture stuff. Did that mean the couple of bags I put in there had all her belongings? I thought she’d only packed for the holidays.
My little kitten was poor and too proud to ask Daddy Tino to provide for her. I was sure he’d have without her having to ask, but she must have refused him. Of course, that would have created more debt she wasn’t willing to pay back. She seemed to be focusing all her time on her school so she’d finally be able to support herself on her own and Tino wouldn’t have any control over her.
She leaned against the dresser, and I recognized a territorial hover when I saw one. It was funny how that piece of furniture was the only one she protected from my intrusion. She didn’t want me to look inside it. What was she hiding in there and didn’t want me to see? The underwear she forgot to pack or the battery-operated cock?
“You didn’t answer me. Now what?” she asked again.
“Now you go to bed, and I’ll wait in the living room, guarding you.”
“Living room? Like right inside the apartment, not outside by the door or down by the building entrance?”
I turned and headed toward the only couch outside, her footsteps following me. “Si, si.”
When I sat, she crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her nipples from me. “Aren’t you gonna tell me how you magically convinced Don Bellomo to agree to bring me here where I’d be all alone with you?”
“Apologize, and I’ll tell you.”
“In your dreams.”
I sighed, taking off my shoes, laughing on the inside. God, I loved to tease her. “Then go to bed, little kitten, and sleep tight. You can’t possibly think I’m a threat.”
“Every man is a threat. Even the ones that are supposed to protect you.”
I looked up at her. The pain she tried to hide in her tone screamed in her eyes, and I felt it as if it echoed mine. She hadn’t known it yet, and maybe she’d never do or even begin to understand a man like me could feel her pain more than anyone else.
The urge to have her in my arms had never been stronger, but even that might be too much for her right now. “I’m so sorry you feel that way. I wish there was something I could do to make you forget, to make you feel safe again.”
She regarded me with both confusion and curiosity, and then she averted her gaze, swallowing. “Me too.”
That was a good start. I took off the last of my dress shoes. “Get some rest. Lock your door if it’s gonna make you feel better.”