Page 100 of My Italian Love Affair

“I’m leaving,” I say. “Be outside in two minutes.”

He confirms, and I hang up, sliding my phone back into my pocket as I take a deep breath of the cool night air.

I need to get out of here.

Away from the party. Away from the endless small talk andfree-flowing champagne and all the shit I usually tolerate with a forced smile.

Because none of it interests me tonight.

Not when my mind is still stuck onher.

I told myself I needed to have her just once - just once - to get this shit out of my head.

But now, I know the truth.

I was dead fucking wrong.

*

The drive home is silent.

The low hum of the car’s engine does nothing to drown out the noise in my head. The neon lights of the city blur past the tinted windows, but I barely see them.

My jaw is tight, my fingers tapping against my thigh in restless frustration.

I can stillfeelher.

The heat of her body against mine. The soft, breathless noises she made when I touched her. The way her legs tightened around my waist when she stopped thinking, stopped fighting, and gave in.

I exhale sharply, dragging a hand down my face as I lean my head back against the seat.

This isn’t fucking normal.

Usually, after a night like this, I’d feel satisfied. I’d feel relaxed.Confident and content andfinished.

But I don’t. Not evenclose.

If anything, I should feel victorious - because Iwon.

Ihad her.Not only did I take what I wanted, she let me - shewanted it.

And yet, it’s not enough.

For the first time in my life, having a woman - no, havingher- didn’t put an end to the ache.

It just made it worse.

By the time I reach my penthouse, I’m already on edge.

I have multiple property all over the city, all over the country, all over the fuckingcontinent,and tonight, I hadn’t wanted to go far.

I don’t bother turning on the lights as I step inside, shrugging off my jacket and letting it drop onto the nearest surface. My tie is discarded next, then my watch, and my shirt follows soon after as I kick off my shoes and head straight for the bedroom.

I strip out of my trousers, leaving them in a heap on the floor before climbing into bed. The sheets are cool against my skin, but they do nothing to ease the heat simmering just beneath the surface.

I exhale slowly, staring up at the ceiling, willing myself to switch off.

But I can’t.

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