When I didn’t answer fast enough, Ciro repeated his question, “What did they want, Robbie?”
I sighed in resignation. “They wanted to know what you were doing here last night,” I replied honestly, too damn tired to play games.
Ciro straightened to his full height. “What?”
“Look, I don’t know who they are or…who they hang out with, but they said word got back to them that you were here last night,” I told him. “They wanted to know why. They wanted to know if your visit had anything to do with the box they’re looking for.”
He stood towering over me, his arms crossed over his chest. “What did you tell them?”
There was no way he could miss the flush of awkwardness that covered my face. I silently wondered how many times I was going to humiliate myself in front of this man.
Screw it.
I wrung my hands together. “I told them that…that a few months ago you were passing through town and stopped to eat at Brighton.” He lifted a brow but didn’t interrupt. “I…I told them that we ended up having sex in the restaurant bathroom and then came to my place.” I shrugged a shoulder trying to wave some of my embarrassment off. “I told them you…must have been driving through town again and you stopped by for…a quickie.”
The seconds of silence that followed my story were loud as hell. The tick in his jaw was the only indication that he heard me.
When I couldn’t stand his scrutiny any longer, I blurted out, “It’s the only thing I could think of on the fly. I mean, what else could I say besides the truth?”
“So, you thought the best course of action was to turn yourself into a whore as a way of a believable explanation?” he bit out through clenched teeth.
My mouth gaped and my eyes almost bugged out of my head.
Once I got past my shock, my voice was full-blown fishwife status. “Are you kidding me, right now?” I shook my head in absolute disbelief. “I’ve been cast the whore since the night I first saw you,” I reminded him. “I was a whore at Frankie’s when you had voiced your concern that, if you killed me, the trash in Cedar Creek wouldn’t have any easy pussy to fuck.” He growled but didn’t stop my rant. “I was a whore when you hauled me out of my car and felt me up on the side of the street for anyone to see. And let’s not forget last night.” My voice was reaching levels of hysterical anger that I’d never thought possible. “I definitely played the whore when I let you stick your fingers inside me and mark me like it was your right!”
His arms dropped and Ciro stepped forward until we were practically touching. “It was my right,” he snarled, further spinning my thoughts out of control.
“What?”
Ignoring my obvious spiral into irrationality, Ciro’s mouth crashed down on mine and it was over for me.
Absolutely. Over.
I was done trying to figure him out. I was done trying to figure me out. And I was definitely done trying to figure us out.
I threw my arms around Ciro’s neck and kissed him like it was my right. His arms tightened around my body and it was like we were trying to crawl into each other. I ignore my sore body as we couldn’t get close enough. And if he performed a disappearing act like he did last night, I was going to kill him. And I broke away from the kiss to let him know it.
“Ciro-”
“Tell me you want me, Robbie,” he said, beating me to it. “Tell you fucking want this. No doubts and no fucking morning-after regret. I’m not going to fuck you only to be cast as the villain tomorrow.”
I couldn’t think. A single kiss had me so overwhelmed with lustful greed, I couldn’t think straight. He didn’t want me to blame him in the morning, but why would I?
“I want you,” I said, giving him what he asked for. “I want this, Ciro.”
His hands gripped the side of my face and his lips were back on mine as he walked me back towards the bed. The back of my knees hit the edge of the bed and clothes started flying off. It wasn’t until my hands pushed off Ciro suit jacket that reality reminded me of who he really was.