“What would you do if you could do anything?” I ask.
Gemma peers at me. “What do you mean?”
“How would you spend your time if we lived here for a few years?”
She grins. “Are we pretending we’re that couple that goes somewhere on vacation and then falls in love with the place and decides to move there?”
Maybe we’ll stop pretending sooner than you think. “Right.”
She scrunches her lips and moves them to the side. “I’m not sure. I like fitness, so maybe I’d start my own Pilates studio. I’d have to get certified first. When I was younger, I really liked to paint, but it’s been years since I tried it. I probably wouldn’t be any good.”
I stop walking and point at the storefront right in front of us.
Gemma gasps.
It’s an art supplies shop.
I insist we go in, and despite hesitating at first, Gemma quickly warms up to the idea. We walk out of there fifteen minutes later with a bag of paint, brushes, and some canvases.
I grin to myself. In our future house, I’ll build her an art studio, and we’ll decorate the walls with her paintings.
Our next stop is a clothing shop. While Gemma tries on little linen dresses, all I can think about it is getting her out of them. She brings me a few things she thinks would look good on me, and I buy them without even checking the sizes. I’m too eager to get her back to the house.
I feel high. Around her, I’m incapable of thinking straight. I hate shopping, and yet somehow doing it with her feels like this special fucking treat.
We leave the shop with four big bags, and I’m about to start heading to the taxi stand when she stops by another store display.
It’s a jewelry store.
She starts walking away, but I pull her back. “What were you looking at?”
“Nothing,” she says, waving me off. When she realizes I’m not going to move until she tells me, she sighs and points at a pendant.
“Come on.” I tug her inside the store.
The jewelry store is small and quaint, and chimes ring above us as we step inside. Glass cases line the walls ,and the miniature gray-haired shopkeeper comes over to ask if there’s anything in particular we’d like to see.
“That black pendant in the display,” I tell her.
“The onyx piece.” She smiles knowingly. “It’s one of my favorites.”
Gemma follows her to take a closer look, but not before giving me a light smack on the butt.
A rush travels up my spine. I fucking love how comfortable she’s getting with my body.
She talks to the shopkeeper, completely oblivious to how my obsession with her is growing with every hour we spend together. I don’t think I realized how much I was restraining myself around her while we were in New York. Everything was forbidden. Every wrong move could’ve gotten us in trouble. But now, the shackles are off, and I’m not sure she’s ready for what’s coming next.
The shopkeeper steps away from Gemma, and I quickly take her place, looking at Gemma’s reflection in the mirror. “What do you think?”
The pendant is a smooth black stone nestled in an intricate gold frame on a delicate chain. It catches the light just so, and there’s wonder in Gemma’s eyes as she looks at it.
“It’s beautiful. But I don’t have any money,” she adds sheepishly.
“I do.” I hand her my card. One of my accounts is at a secure offshore bank that not even Napoletano can trace.
“Are you sure? You’ve already bought me a lot of things.” She drags her finger over the pendant.
I snake my arms around her waist. “If you knew how much pleasure I get from spending money on you, you’d realize you’re doing me a favor by getting that necklace.”
Her cheeks turn pink. “That sentence just did something to my insides.”
I let out a low chuckle and press my lips to her ear. “Wait until tonight, Peaches. There are plenty of other things I can do to your insides.”
Her breath hitches, and she gives me a heated look while the shopkeeper carefully wraps the pendant in a small box.
We walk out of the shop, and I can’t resist the urge to press her against a wall and kiss her. Her lips are soft and pliant, and she moans into my mouth as I deepen the kiss. People walk past us, probably staring, but I don’t give a fuck.
Let them see us.
Let them know she’s mine.
I drop Gemma off at the house and get the taxi to take me to the closest grocery store. Orrin’s supposed to have someone drop off a car we can use at the house today, which is going to make shit a lot easier. It’ll also give us a way to get out of here quickly if we need to.
I grab stuff off the shelves in a rush, not wanting to leave her on her own for more than fifteen minutes.
She’s safe there, I know she is, but I’m still fucking anxious to be away from her. When I get back, I leave the bags on the counter and prowl through the house in search of her.
“Peaches?”
There’s no answer. Panic spikes inside my gut, but a moment later, I find her in our bedroom.
She’s napping.
A smile pulls at my lips. I halt, placing my hands on the doorjamb above me, and just take her in.
It’s warm despite the window being open, and she’s tossed off the thin sheet we’ve been using as a blanket. She’s lying on her stomach, wearing only her underwear, and my gaze falls to her ass.
Cazzo.
The scrap of black fabric leaves little to imagination. It’s not a thong, but it’s barely more than that.
I bite down on my tongue. Fuck, my handprint would look good on that ass. My hands twitch with the urge to prowl over and fondle her smooth, curvy flesh. I’d shuck those panties off, spread her open, and eat her ass and cunt until she turns to jelly beneath me. Then I’d sink my cock into her warm, swollen pussy over and over until she was squirming and begging for another release.
I shudder, acutely aware that I’m already hard inside my jeans.
She turns me on like no one ever has.
She must sense my presence, because after a minute she stirs, flips over, and gives me a few sleepy blinks. My gaze drops to her perky tits. She stretches her arms over her head with this confused expression, like she’s completely oblivious of the effect she’s having on me.
“Hey. What are you doing over there?”
“Imagining all the ways I’m going to fuck you once your side is feeling better.” No matter how badly I want to be inside of her, I’m not going to risk hurting her while she’s injured. There’s a purple bruise the size of my fist on her ribs.
Her eyes slide down my body. When she notices the bulge inside my jeans, she blushes and bites down on her lip.
My hungry gaze soaks her in. She’s so fucking beautiful.
“Come here,” she says softly.
I move across the room, unable to resist her. When I sit down on the bed beside her, she wraps her arms around my shoulders and presses a kiss against my neck.
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” she murmurs. Her hard nipples brush against my back and send more blood rushing to my groin. “I want you.”
A groan rumbles inside my chest. “I want you too. So bad, you have no idea. But I don’t want to hurt you.”
She takes my earlobe between her teeth and tugs it lightly.