Page 109 of Runaway in the Mafia
“I only wanted to forget.”
Pain smashed into me like a fist to my gut. I stopped breathing. It took me more than a couple of beats to pick it up again. In front of me, a sheet of despair spread out. I dragged my voice from the hollow of my chest. “Forget what?”
Silence.
I turned to find her with her back to me, looking out of the window. “Ahana, forget what?” I grated.
“Forgot.”
Fucking hell.I waited for a lifetime, but she was lost in whatever she saw outside the window.It’s not you she’s seeing in her future.My hand felt like it was encased in cement as it crawled to the ignition. With an inhuman effort, I started the engine. It geared up instantly. Inside me, I was dead. Cold. Felt like I was six feet under already. I was a blend of nerves as I drove home.Forget she was married to me,was the only reason I could think of. It fucked me up all wrong. Made me want to erase it from my memory. That she saw our marriage like thatfucking hurt. It ripped my heart in two. Why couldn’t she see it the way I did? My glance caught her continuously. But she was passed out, breathing evenly.No fucking way is she ever drinking again.
Her eyes sprang open when the engine stilled.
I couldn’t let it go. “What did you want to forget, Ahana?” I asked quietly.
Her brow furrowed. “Did I say something?”
“No.” I sighed. “Must have been my imagination.”I wish.
I walked around to get her, but she was already stumbling out. Grabbing her hand, I pulled her along inside. When the lights switched on, she made an awkward semi-twirl in her dress.
“You like my dress?”
I ran my eyes from top to toe. Fucking siren. “I’ll like you better without it.”
“Okay.” She reached back and unzipped it in one go. The dress pooled like saffron on the white marble. She stood in a yellow lacy thong and heels. Nothing else.
My cock thickened behind my pants. “I’m not fucking you.”
She pouted. “Why?”
“Because you’re drunk.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are,mia ammaliatrice,”I said softly.
“Tipsy. That’s not drunk. And I’m horny.”
I groaned. This was going to be a long fucking night. “I’m not fucking you when you’re drunk.” I caught her glare and corrected myself. “Tipsy.”
“Fine.”
Thank fuck.
She flipped her silky hair behind her and sashayed to the sofa. She dropped on it and picked up the half-read book lying on the table next to it.
“Planning to read?” I gritted through my teeth. I hadn’t realised the amount of patience I had up to now.
“I’m going to get myself off with one of these sex scenes.”
Jesus fuck!My cock jerked in my pants.
“You know, since you don’t want to fuck me.”
God help me.“I didn’t say I didn’t want to.”
“Whatever.” And she slipped her hand inside the lace. All the blood in my body dropped down south.
