Episode 16

Sophia

"My friend must be suffering," Dante says with his mouth full of pasta.

"Don't bother Gabo, Dante. Your turn will come."

"I won't change diapers."

"Of course, you will," his grandma counters. "I'll take care of that," she adds, winking at me.

"The pasta is delicious," I say with a wide smile. "I haven't eaten like this since Dad passed away."

"My grandma makes the best pasta in the country."

The lady smiles at her grandson. "Compliments won't get you extra pasta, young man."

Dante pouts, and for a few seconds I forget he's also a Capo. He looks like a kid when he talks to his grandma; he must love her dearly.

"Are they taking too long, don't you think?" I ask, looking worried in the direction Gabriel and Mia left.

"My buddy must be having the time of his life, that's for sure," Dante says, earning another smack on the back of his head from his grandma.

"Gabo's got this."

"Excuse me, why do you call him Gabo?" I ask, curious.

"Gabriel was a very small and skinny kid for his age." My jaw drops open. "I know, dear, it's hard to believe now, but he was. Back then I had a greyhound, and Dante said they looked alike, which Gabriel found hilarious."

"I see," I say, thinking of that breed of dog.

"And I named him Gabo," she finishes, looking at her grandson. "On the other hand, my Dante was short and very overweight from eating so much pasta."

Dante laughs while finishing off his plate. "Exercise helps me stay fit; my grandma's food is my weakness."

"And women who are no good for you," his grandma adds, clicking her tongue.

Dante pours us some moscato, and we both drink. It's cold and delicious.

"This is the first time I've had alcohol," I announce to no one in particular.

"Oh, then you should stay over tonight. I'll take care of you," Dante begins, but stops when his grandma smacks him with the wooden spoon.

"One day a woman will teach you how to respect a lady," she admonishes him.

"I doubt it," Dante replies playfully.

I continue drinking while I listen to their banter and jokes. Nevertheless, my eyes keep drifting toward the hallway.

"Go, sweetheart," Dante's grandma tells me. "I'm also getting nervous."

I drink what's left in my glass and head down the hallway.

"First door on the left," Dante calls out, sneaking some pasta from my plate, which earns him another smack from his grandma.

Reaching the first door, which is open, I'm floored to see Gabriel shirtless from the waist up, trying to diaper a squirmy Mia.

I know I've seen him bare before, the day I thought I was dreaming, but I don't recall many details. Now, I can perfectly see his sculpted body and his trousers barely covering his obliques. Every vein crossing his arm, every hair trailing down his chest, each muscle of his abdomen, and his immense pectorals are all visible.

I'm in deep trouble.

Before, I could imagine it, but now I will have a very clear image for my nightly fantasies. Too clear for my liking. I know my brain is recording every angle, every detail of him to replay in my mind at night when I'm alone and yearning to feel good.

He has a tattoo on one of his wrists, a black skull with a knife through it, a symbol of belonging to the Camorra. He also has a black dragon tattoo sprawling across his torso side, culminating in the animal's head, painted red and silver, roaring silently over one of his pectorals.

He's magnificent.

I didn't know I had a thing for tattoos until now.

"Instead of gawking, you could help," Gabriel grouses, snapping me out of my daze.

"I wasn't staring," I retort.

"Whatever you say, Sofi," he says, wiping sweat from his brow. "I don't know how to do this. I've ruined a jacket and a shirt; I don't want to ruin my pants, too."

"Or maybe you do," I say without thinking.

"Excuse me?" he asks, amusement in his eyes.

I shake my head, trying to focus on Mia and not her handsome father.

"Nothing. Forget it," I add while adjusting the diaper. "The tapes go behind and up."

"Sure, that makes sense," he says. "You should have helped out," he tells Mia, who gazes at him captivated—as I probably did a moment ago.

"Hold her legs up; it's easier, and this secures the diaper in place," I explain, trying my hardest to look anywhere but at him. "Mia's clothes?" I inquire, seeing her half-dressed.

"I had to bathe her because when I tried to change the diaper I got everything dirty—her clothes, mine, and her legs."

I smile as I stroke Mia's belly, which she's happily munching on with her hand.

"She's a gladiator; she won't stay still," he says.

"I know," I reply. "She doesn't make changing easy, but she keeps things lively, right, sweetie?"

The girl flails her legs, kicking into the air in response.

"Someday she'll kick someone's behind," Gabriel says, handing me the bag.

"That she will," I say, searching for clean clothes.

In less than three minutes, she's dressed again.

"I'm sorry for ruining your matching outfits."

I turn to Gabriel with a smile. "Thanks for noticing; we at least got to show them off."

I eye his naked chest and swallow hard. "What will you do about your... your clothes?" I ask.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I make no promises, Sofi."

I try to stop staring, but can't; my eyes refuse to cooperate. I raise my hands, thoughtless, and place them on his chest, at eye level. He's too tall, or I'm too short, but right now everything seems perfect.

I run my nails down his abs, then back up along his side, tracing the tattoo.

His skin feels hard and hot under my touch. As hot as I am feeling at this moment.

"Sofi," he calls with a choked voice. "You're being unfair."

"I'm sorry, I..." I quiet when his fingers thread through my curls.

I look up at him, thought vanishing, needing to be closer. I stand on tiptoes to feel his heavy breath on my lips.

"Damn it, Sofi," he hisses, resting his forehead against mine.

We're so close I can hear his heart pounding as wildly as mine against me.

"I... I..." I mutter, rubbing my chin against his. "I don't know what's happening to me."

"You smell so good," he growls into my ear, sending shivers over my skin.

"Please, I need to feel you," I beg, seeking his lips.

He growls from deep in his throat before gripping my hair tighter.

"You asked for it, little wild one," he whispers before his lips meet mine.

At first, I collide with his teeth due to my impatience, but then he takes over, forcing me to surrender to his pace.

His lips move confidently over mine as if he has been doing it for years. I'm envious that I can't kiss him the same way. I don't know how one is supposed to kiss a man, but I don't let this bother me. I ride his feet to reach him more easily and then taste his warm, firm lips timidly at first. But when one of his hands grabs my waist and pulls me closer, I forget my shyness.

I open my mouth, eager to meet his tongue.

Gabriel growls as his tongue explores mine, and I think I do, too. I cannot say it feels like I've always dreamed because I never imagined kissing could feel like this. Violent, hungry, and deliciously dirty in some way.

Yet despite all that, I am left disappointed because I thought this would fulfill me, but it only makes me more ravenous, more restless.

"I want more," I whisper. "Give me more," I ask as he bites my lower lip.

He lifts my thigh, resting it on his hip. I stifle a gasp as I feel his hardness against my stomach.

"Is this better, little wild one?" he asks against my lips.

I look into his eyes, darkened by the same hunger I'm feeling.

"I want more," I plead, holding his chiseled face between my hands, running my nails across his scalp. "I need more."

He looks back at me fiercely, fire in his gaze, promising everything I need in this moment to find myself again.

Finally, I will have it.

"Oh, crap. Sorry," we're interrupted by a concerned Dante. "Gabriel, it's an emergency."

My body chills as rapidly as Gabriel's gaze turns icy.

Me and my bad luck.

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