Page 50 of The Bonventi War
Gio doesn't answer. He just looks at me.
"I mean..." I struggle to find words, to process this sudden turn in conversation. "Sometimes, maybe. It's not something I've seriously..." I trail off. "Why are you asking?"
"I don't know. I just was curious," he says without hesitation.
"I mean, I'm not opposed to having kids. I just haven't met the right... Did you have too much whiskey or something?"
"What? No. Just something I was thinking about. It doesn't matter. Forget about it," he says and turns to look out the window.
I stare at the side of his face as he watches the lights go by. If I'm being 100% honest with myself, there was a moment—very brief—when I saw Alina and Marco in a corner, her smiling, him rubbing her belly, that I thought about me and Gio.
It's crazy because things just started going well with us. I don't know. In the moment, I blamed it on me just getting older and that subconscious pressure society puts on women to have kids, but I don't know.
We pull up to our apartments, the night still thrumming through my veins—a mix of champagne, adrenaline, and something else. As Gio helps me out of the car, his hands feel extra warm and comforting.
As we get into the elevator, I turn to him. "Thank you for tonight," I say, my voice softer than I intended. "I had a lovely time."
Gio's eyes meet mine, dark and intense. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Raven."
The elevator dings, and Gio walks me down the hall, his hand resting on the small of my back, where it's been most of the night. Although right now, his touch is burning through my dress, and I feel the fire on my skin.
I fumble with my keys, hyper-aware of his presence behind me, of the heat I'm feeling. As I slide my key into the lock, I feel the unspoken tension between us.
Part of me wants to invite him in, to see where this energy might lead us. But another part—the scared, protect-your-heart part—makes me chicken out.
"Well," I say, clearing my throat. "Goodnight, Gio."
He nods, his eyes full of everything I want right now. "Goodnight, Raven."
I manage to slip inside before I can change my mind.
I shut the door and lean against it. I listen to his footsteps cross the hall. I turn and peek through the peephole, watching as he opens the door and disappears into his apartment.
"Fuck," I whisper, sliding down to sit on the floor. I immediately regret not inviting him in.
Ugh, I'm such a chicken.
The thought hits me hard, followed by images of what could have happened—his hands on my body, his mouth on my neck.
Damn it. What sane woman would give that up?
I bite my lip, considering my options. An idea forms in my mind, wicked and thrilling.
I know Gio likes watching me. He's made that clear with his cameras and his constant surveillance. And if I'm being honest with myself, I've started to like it too. The thought of his eyes on me, hungry and possessive, does something to me now.
A slow smile spreads across my face.
I know he's watching the cameras right now. He's probably sitting in his apartment, eyes fixed on the monitors—on me.
I reach behind my neck, slowly unzipping my dress. Let him watch. Let him see what he could have had if he'd followed me inside.
The fabric pools at my feet, leaving me in the lingerie set he bought me, the black lace against pale skin.
I unhook my bra, tossing it aside, and play with the diamond necklace he gave me, slowly moving it from side to side.
I take my time as I run my hands down my body, caressing my breasts, savoring the feeling of my own touch. I imagine Gio on the other side of that lens, his eyes dark with desire as he watches me.
I crawl onto the couch, positioning myself so the camera has a perfect view. My fingers trail down my stomach, teasing at the waistband of my panties. I close my eyes, picturing Gio's hands instead of my own.
