The Woman at the Docks - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,50

socks and shoes, undoing his belt. "What are you doing?"

"I'm coming in," he told me, pulling off his shirt, slipping out of his pants.

"You don't strike me as the soaking sort," I told him even as my breathing started to get shallow.

"I'm not. I'm a climb in the tub with a beautiful, naked woman sort, though," he told me, taking off his last barrier before coming to the side of the tub, climbing in the other end. "How long have you been in here?" he asked, grimacing as he slid into the water.

"I don't know. A half an hour or so."

"So it was hotter than this when you climbed in?" he asked, looking horrified.

"It's barely warm now," I insisted, getting a head shake from him.

"Get over here," he demanded.

Sex tightening at the roughness in his voice, I slide away from my end of the tub, going toward his, about to turn to put my back to his chest, when he grabbed the back of my neck, yanking me forward to seal his lips over mine.

It was a long, deep, lingering kiss, the kind that you felt to the tips of your toes and deep down into your bones, the kind that made your head feel light and floaty.

When he finally pulled away, his fingers teasing at the hair at the back of my neck, his eyes looked as heavy-lidded as mine felt.

"Thought about doing that a lot more than I should have all day today," he admitted, finally releasing me, guiding me to rest against his chest.

I could feel the hard line of his cock against my lower back as I settled there, but his arms went gently around me, wrapping around my waist, holding me against him. "Did you find something to do today? I don't have much going on around here."

"You have like fifteen-hundred channels plus every streaming service known to mankind. For someone who is never home."

"Find anything good to watch?"

"Honestly, I took like three naps," I admitted, shaking my head at myself. "I don't take naps. Like in my day-to-day life."

"Well, in your day-to-day life, you aren't scared to death about your sister and your own safety. You haven't been getting enough sleep."

"I don't think I'll be getting much sleep tonight either," I murmured as his hands slid up my stomach, over my ribs, closing over my breasts.

"Oh yeah?" he mumbled, fingers moving across my nipples, working them into hardened buds. "Why's that?"

"Gee, I can't think of it right now," I told him, back arching into his touch.

"Not thinking sounds good," he agreed, one hand abandoning my breast, moving downward, plunging under the water, slipping between my thighs, going right for my clit. "Yeah, that's much better than talking," he concluded when a low, throaty moan escaped me.

I had to agree with that.

As much as I liked talking to Luca, not talking to him was really amazing too.

He gave me two selfless orgasms before the water turned cold enough for us to need to abandon it, him climbing out first, going to grab an extra towel since he snagged mine. When he came back, though, that towel got dropped to the floor as I got up on my knees, grabbing his ass to steady me as I took his cock in my mouth, working him to and through an orgasm, spurred on by the hisses and groans of pleasure, wanting to give him the selflessness he'd given me.

It was a while after, after I was back in another of his shirts, and he was uncharacteristically dressed down in a pair of low-slung black sweatpants that proved incredibly distracting, that we sat at the kitchen counter. As he went through the motions of thawing and cooking one of his Aunt Adrian's frozen meals, we finally talked about his day.

"Angelo and Lucky think it is worth it to look into each of the containers from South America. Just in case."

"And Matteo?" I asked, trying not to sound too surly when I mentioned his name, even if I was absolutely fostering a bit of resentment toward him. Which only made me feel guilty because he was Luca's family.

"Matteo mostly follows orders."

"But thinks you're crazy for believing the word of a woman he thinks is screwing all of you over."

"He doesn't know you, Romy," he told me, tone apologetic.

"Is it pathetic that I want to be right not only to save my sister, but to prove Lucky and Matteo wrong?"

"No that's not pathetic. Anyone accused of something they aren't guilty