Sinful Kisses by Emily Bowie

CHAPTER 26

Islam the door behind me. Instantly, I regret leaving her alone. My chest heaves at the same rate as my heart. Both kicking my ass for losing control. I should have never taken her like that. Gia deserves sweet. I’m not sweet. I don’t fuck sweet.

In the end, Gia is another pawn in my game. I can’t let her get to me. No matter how beautiful her smile is and how much I want to keep her.

I walk toward my car, pulling out the red gymnastics mat I bought. When I place it on the ground, it folds out to be three mats together. It’s not much, but I can’t have her getting hurt if I plan to use her as collateral.

My dog comes up to me, wagging his tail. This mutt doesn’t seem to get that I’m not a dog person. He nudges my hand, and I give him a small pat on the head. At least he’s good at guarding Gia. I’m sure it will only be a matter of time before he will guard her from me. Someone should. Until then… my mind goes to her being tied up. Fuck, that was hot.

I head inside to see what else she looked through of mine, when I see the pile of shit three feet high in the room. Our bed is cut open, a spring poking out. My clothes are in a pile, tossed with no regard.

My nostrils flare, having no time to calm down. I’m going to murder Gia Rossi. She has a way of digging under my skin. If she just sat prettily, I would have fewer headaches.

“Do you like my remodeling?” she asks, slipping past me—naked. Her body is peppered in small red and blue circles. The sight of her relaxes me, knowing I put those marks on her.

“I noticed you didn’t remodel any of your stuff.”

“Whose stuff is that, anyway?” She pokes her head out of the washroom, holding up one finger. “If you say it was one of your past conquests, I’m lighting that pile on fire.”

We glare at each other. I let her mind go crazy as I take my time to answer.

“Does it matter?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. Her face hardens for a moment, and I swear jealousy lights her beautiful irises before it changes to indifference. But she can’t mask her tone, and it has me fighting back a smile.

“It doesn’t if you want new clothes.” She’s eyeing the pile, looking like she wants to set it ablaze.

“They were my sister’s old clothes. The ones that we used to keep at our house for her.”

“And you just had them lying around?” She looks at me. Really looks at me. She’s trying to figure me out. No one ever has. No one sticks around to make the effort. Everything in life is conditional. Even loyalty. Even Gia. Soon, she will be able to go back to her life and pretend this never existed.

“Max is a sentimental fuck.” I hold her gray eyes for a moment before digging into my pocket and tossing her a lighter. She catches it perfectly and flicks it on. The flame stands tall before she tosses it back to me.

She retreats into the bathroom, unfazed by the disaster she has caused in my house and my chest.

My body tingles with an odd sensation I can’t put my finger on. I’ve never had someone put me on tilt as much as she does. I don’t know what to do with her. I get the sudden urge to make her ride my face and torture her that way.

I can hear the shower turn on, and her scent wafts out the open door toward me. It hasn’t even been more than ten minutes, and my dick is hardening again with images of her.

I have to leave the room. This house. She has placed her unique touch everywhere. When I look around, I feel her.

I need to get rid of her before I forget the whole purpose of saving her life in the first place.

I stomp through the house. The door slams behind me, its screen billowing in the light breeze. If anyone else had thrown knives trying to hurt me, I wouldn’t have hesitated to kill them. Yet, with her, it turned me on. I enjoyed chasing her, liking the way she tried to fight me.

I walk over to the shed where the farm supplies are and pick up a can of gas. I dump it on the red mats I had placed on the ground. It’s not like she noticed them anyway.

The liquid runs over the smooth material before I flick a match on it. It goes up in flames with a poof. I watch them quickly turn from red to black, the once smooth padding curling and pulling away from each other.

It was a stupid idea to pick these up. I should have never done it. Gia won’t think twice about backstabbing me. She proved it by going through my stuff and trashing the room. If one of those knives hit me, she wouldn’t have stopped to see if I would live. She’s a fucking Rossi. No sense in wasting a good deed.

I step outof the shower as soon as I hear the screen door slam. I watch as he flicks a match to the new gymnastics mat he brought home. My heart stills and becomes conflicted. I don’t how to take Romeo. He is sweet, but then he can switch his persona in a beat.

Why would he even buy those mats?His face lights up with an evil smile as he watches the flames lick every part of the red padding. Romeo could have never honestly been interested in me. He wouldn’t have tried to be friends in high school… but would I have even noticed if he had? That seems to be his whole point. Had I never noticed?

Yanking a shirt of his from the pile, I pull it on before walking outside. “I was just thinking it was a beautiful day for a bonfire.”

His head jerks up, and his eyes narrow, taking in my attire. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you in the middle of it. But I wouldn’t want my favorite shirt to be ruined.”

“I’ve never sat by a fire like this before.” I pick up the stump on the porch and bring it closer to the fire to sit on. “Before this, I’d also never been to a farm.” I talk to fill the silence. It’s what I do when I’m nervous. “I also never realized I didn’t have my own personality before.”

He huffs, looking back at the fire. Other than the little grunt, I’d have no idea if he was listening to me.

“In high school, I was a cheerleader. That was how I viewed myself. I became the stereotype. Without realizing it, I was mimicking what I thought people saw me as. I never questioned who I was. Then we graduated, and I was no longer the cheerleader. I felt lost. So, I took on the role of Alfonso’s fiancée. I took that as who I was. I threw myself into the role. I learned how to cook, how to stitch wounds. Everything I thought I needed to be to become his wife. I recreated myself once again. Then, the carpet was pulled out from under me, and I was no longer going to be his wife. When I lost my memory, for the first time in my life, I had no expectations of how I should be. I could be me. I didn’t feel like I had to alter how I thought, felt, or acted. I was simply able to be me. It’s freeing yet completely overwhelming, because I don’t know how to exist without a title, a role.”

I don’t know why I’m opening up to him. Especially since he looks to be ignoring me. But I need to explain myself. Saying it out loud solidifies it to me as well.

“So, are you changing yourself into a damsel in distress because the big, bad Romeo has you?”

I laugh. I can’t help it. “I think I already proved to you I’m no damsel in distress. I can handle myself. But to answer your question, no. I haven’t felt a need to change who I am.”

“Too stubborn to change for a Mancini, huh?”

The way he says it has me studying him. I honestly know nothing about him other than surface shit that’s common knowledge. He likes taking home a different girl each night. He gambles and isn’t afraid to go all-in.

“What’s your big gamble here, Romeo?”

He quirks a brow. “I thought it was obvious.” His eyes sear into mine. He has this strange way of making my heart flip-flop when he gives me this look.

“Must not be, if I’m asking.” I wish I had something in my hands to fiddle with. My body wants to squirm under his watch. I’m not used to anyone looking at me like this.

“My end game is you, Gia.”

I laugh, and he glares at me. His eyes grow a darker shade than normal. His lips turn flat before I watch his tongue draw along the inside of his mouth.

“This is me going all-in,” he says seriously.

He’s crazy.My lips fight to curve up.

Romeo bringing me here was my punishment for being a horrible sister. It’s for all the times I was blind outside of myself. When I only put myself first and couldn’t see past it. The closest people around me were going through so much, and I never saw it until it punched me in the gut. I should have seen it, felt it. Yet, I had no clue.

This should be hell. I don’t deserve the happiness that is circling my chest. Maybe I’m losing it. In less than an hour, I went from throwing knives, hoping to murder Romeo, to now watching a fire, because he also has a temper.

I’m messed up. We’re dysfunctional. But I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I have found a new peace being here.

“Since I ruined our bed. Should we add it to the fire?”

Now, he smiles. “You’re a little psycho when you get mad. I’d hate to see what you’re like when you get jealous.” He pauses, and I get up. “Naw, who am I kidding? I’d enjoy it.”

It takes us a few minutes before shuffling the bed out of the house and into the fire. We both have stumps to sit on as we watch the flames in mostly silence. I keep breaking it. I can’t help it. I’ve never been very good at staying quiet.

“Are you scared of dying?”

“Thinking of new ways to kill me?”

I ignore his question. He’s only trying to deflect and not answer. “I wasn’t when I crashed your car. At the time, I kind of wished that I would die.”

“No, death doesn’t scare me. Finding someone who I can trust does. In this world, you’re only as good as the money you bring in. When you stop being useful, your life no longer matters. The key is to either stay useful or find someone who you trust to not kill you.”