Page 80 of Ruin
“Fuck, Tommy, oh my God!”
I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ I keep going, maintaining a steady rhythmic pace, my thumb on her clit keeping time as I fist her. Her blood is dripping down my arm, and I grin as it touches my sleeve, immediately darkening the fabric.
“Tommy, I’m going to come! Tommy, I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming—Tommy!” She’s screaming my name so loud, her voice bounces off the wall. Her pussy walls squeeze me so hard that it feels like she might break my hand.
I keep going until her tremors soften, then slowly pull my hand out of her. I don’t want to. Being inside her is my safe place, the only place I want to be.
I pick her up and move her to the leather couch in the waiting area. While I’m wetting towels with warm water to clean her up, Olivia walks in and shrieks.
“What the fuck? She looks like a murder scene. Are youkilling her?”
“How did you get in here?” I growl.
“Uh, the door, idiot. You didn’t lock it.”
Gi freaks out. “Damn it, Tommy! Oh God, if someone came in—”
Olivia chimes in. “Oh, someone did. A few someones. I heard some people talking about you guys at the party, and two women bolted out of here like the devil was chasing them as I came in. You didn’t see them? Damn, he must have been doing some crazy shit to you.”
I hold up my hand to Gi, who looks like she’s about to lose her shit. “Don’t. Move.” To Olivia, I say, “Leave the tampons over there. Lock the door on your way out.”
“I can’t lock the door from the outside, asshole.”
I scowl and move toward her to take the tampons, forgetting that I’m covered in Gi’s blood until I see the look on Olivia’s face.
She backs away. “Oh, no you don’t. This is Chanel.”
“Get out, Olivia.”
“Thank you for saving my girlfriend’s ass, Olivia. By the way, you look amazing, Olivia,” she says mockingly as she skitters out the door laughing. “You look like a monster, by the way.”
Gi is standing up and trying to rinse the blood off herself. I reach out to do it for her, and she snatches the towel out of my hand.
“Lock the door, Tommy. People saw this? They heard me? Fuck.”
I lock the door and come back to her, washing my hands. There’s blood on my shirtsleeves, and I grin. I’m keeping this shirt for fucking ever. “You worry too much about whatother people think. ”
“Says the guy who forced a hoodie over my head because he thought my dress was too revealing.”
“You weren’t officially mine then. Now that you are, you can do whatever the fuck you want. Wear what you want. Get fucked where and how I want. Forget what people think.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” She fixes me with a hard stare in the mirror, but when I rub her back, sliding to her breasts, then down to her clit, her body arches against me in spite of herself.
My mouth at her ear, I whisper, “Practice. Starting now.”
I bend her over the counter.
32
Tommy
For Giovanna’s twenty-first birthday, I want to give her something permanent. Something that says she belongs to me. Jewelry seems right, so I set up an appointment at Luminous & Co., her father’s store. It’s the nicest in the city, and she deserves the best.
The place gleams like a temple to money: mahogany cases polished to a mirror shine, glass sparkling under the recessed lighting, the faint scent of orange oil sharp in the air. But there are more guards than I remember. Too many. All stationed just far enough apart to look casual, but I can feel their eyes on me.
One of them I recognize, Berto Abbiati, Antonio’s little brother, the one who couldn’t even break a 70-year-old man’s leg with all the help and time in the world. I grunt a laugh. That will scare no one.
The saleswoman who greets me is jittery, her smile brittle. She twists her pen between her fingers and glances nervously at the guards. “What would you like to see today?”
