We both hit paper and went again. I won rocking her scissors.
The next round she won because she cheated, but whatever, I hesitated and she used that to her advantage, covering my rock with her paper.
“Ooh, final round.” I teased.
“Ready?” She moved to her knees so she was as close to me as she could get without falling off the bed.
“Ready.” I walked towards her, careful not to let my towel drop, and held out my hands in front of me.
“Paper.” Me.
“Rock.” Her.
“Scissors.” Us.
“Huh?” She pointed at my hand. “What the heck is that?”
“Oh, right.” I had my finger pointing at her and sliced her paper in half. “It’s a knife, I’m mafia. We don’t play by the rules.”
Amy scowled, her cute little eyebrows knitting together in frustration. “You can’t just make up rules.”
“I believe—” I leaned forward. “—I just did, now are you going to be a sore loser or let me have the middle?”
“Sore loser.”
“You’ve always been fair,” I teased. “You gonna start changing my opinion of you?”
“Fine.” She crossed her arms and huffed “But I’m asking people when I get back if that’s something you guys do.”
“Us guys?” I repeated.
“You know.” She waved me off. “The mafia.”
I burst out laughing. “Oh we have tons of rules, special codes, bad ass hand shakes, seriously takes me like ten whole minutes to even meet up with someone at the bar because I have to go through so many movements. One of them involves a spin, just in case you were wondering.”
Her eyes widened and then narrowed. “You’re lying.”
I shrugged. “I’m mafia sweetheart.”
“And Sicilian.” She rolled her eyes. “Double X.”
“And Sicilians are liars?”
She grabbed a pillow and held it to her chest. “My dad was.”
“Your dad is a piece of shit,” I spat. “He doesn’t even deserve the title of dad and when I see him I’m going to cut off his hands for ever laying a finger on you.”
Amy hissed out a breath.
“Sorry.” I looked quickly down at my feet, semi-embarrassed that I’d just gone all killer on her. “It’s only fair though. Why should he deserve the honor having hands when he doesn’t even know how to use them properly?”
“Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Use yours properly?”
Load my gun and tickle the trigger why don’t you? Did she even realize what she was asking? The connotation behind it? The absolute restraint it took for me not to throw my towel to the ground and pin her arms against the mattress until she screamed out in pleasure?
With a practiced grin, one I knew made girls stutter — only because it pissed Sergio off to no end whenever I did it — I leaned forward and tilted my head, flashing my smile. “Honey, I use all things properly… especially my hands, wanna see?”
“Even if I said yes…” Amy’s eyes narrowed again. “You’d still chicken out.”
“Chicken out? What is this?” I laughed. “We play paper, rock, scissors for real estate on the bed and now you’re calling me a chicken?”
“Fine.” Amy licked her lips. “Then touch me… with your hands.”
I froze.
My hands clenched at my sides, unwilling to follow through with what she asked and pissed off that I had to keep them there lest I lose all self-control and ruin everything. “I can’t.”
“Because?”
“It isn’t right.”
“Because?”
“Damn it, Amy.” I turned around and put my hands on my hips. “I can’t just touch you and not do more. One touch is worse than a tease, it’s like giving me a crumb of bread after I’ve been starving in the jungle for weeks. I’m just going to eat the whole thing and do whatever I can to get more.”
She was silent. When I turned back around she had a satisfied grin on her face, like I’d just made this huge confession. Panicked, I retraced what I said. She kept smiling.
Scowling, I asked, “What?”
“Honesty…” She shrugged. “It’s better than you lying to me… mechanic my ass.”
“I did work as a mechanic…”
“Fancy word for a made man.”
Yeah, she had me there. “We should sleep if we’re going to get an early start tomorrow, alright?”
Nodding, she turned on her side, careful to slip all the way to the end of the bed, and didn’t say another word.
I quickly dropped my towel and put on my boxers then turned off the lights. Slipping my gun under my pillow, I slid into the bed and lay across the middle, just because I could.
Unfortunately two hours into what should have been a dead sleep I was awoken by Amy’s hand, and then her arm, and then her leg as it snaked around mine.
Sleep was going to be hell.
And just as I was getting used to the fires singeing my body — she started to purr in her sleep.
Wide eyed, I stared at the ceiling and repeated all the different reasons I couldn’t take advantage of her — all the reasons I couldn’t kiss her.
She purred again.
To hell with that — all bets were off when she was ready… and I was going to be there, waiting. I couldn’t care less if I had bullet holes in my body; my mouth was going to be the one to claim hers forever.
CHAPTER NINE
Amy
I WOKE UP in the middle of the night to find myself basically plastered to Ax. His warm muscled body was like a beacon to mine. With his arm wrapped possessively around me, and his breathing even, I was able to stare at him, stare at the beautiful man who had rescued me — the beautiful man who had abandoned me.
His eyelashes were so long it was impossible not to notice them. They were black and had a slight curl at the end. His jaw was covered in a bit of dark stubble — I’d forgotten how dark his hair was, or how silky it had always felt between my fingers. It was shorter than I remembered it being, but it was just as wavy, shiny. Too pretty to be boy hair, too tempting for me not to want to reach out and thread my fingers through it.
But I knew I’d either wake him up and be on the opposite end of his gun, or he’d use it as an invitation we both knew I wasn’t ready for. I craved him, but I didn’t want to get lost in him and then suffer the absolute torture of having to say goodbye once he finished his job and dropped me off in Chicago.