Except for the indespicable snore, Tara wondered if little miss Frantino had acquired anything from her mother. Probably not. Even in her slumber she looked like a female version of her father.Tara slowly untangled her hand from the little Donavan's, getting off the bed as quietly as possible. She couldn't but stay a moment longer to admire her child. She had spent entire day asking herself whether her actions were truly worth the risk, but the moment her child had engulfed her in her little arms, she knew she was only doing what was necessary,Someone had to.Looking over the sweaty bodies reveling in the buzzing club, Don stood in the VIP section on the upper floor.Don hadn't stopped thinking about the woman in his home, cuddled in his bed. He had found himself zoned out more than couple times, hoping to crawl back into the same mess they created. He was sure she didn't want to see him again, let alone sleep with the man who had nothing less than threatened to impregnate her agai
She remembered gulping three shots of what the bartender had called "on the house". It wasn't after all everyday a pretty woman confessed she had never been intoxicated before. As much as the throat burning liquid was, it did its job impeccably, even more so that its effects slowly crawled outside the circle of her assumptions. She felt delirious, unreasonably thrilled and instead of seeing the man as a danger, he looked like a walking meat on the stick, deliciously palatable, garnished with his own kind of provocative wrath, the one that evoked all the wrong thoughts at once. His height easily stood out in the mass of reckless revelers, hands voluptuously sweeping across his body to catch his attention. She smiled when he denied to as much as look at the faces of the owners of hands that tried to evade space that did not belong to them. His gaze though undoubtably promised punishment, alcohol quickly told her to not listen to her mind, that all the danger that was lurking over her
Her heart beat skyrocketed when he leaned into her seat, inhaling her scent for a moment before pulling the seatbelt, locking it. His gaze briefly lingered over her exposed legs, finding it hard not to. She suppressed a gasp when his Mercedes revved out of the parking lot like a bullet. She looked out the window, distracting herself with the world outside, realising that no matter how strong the lemon shot was, it wasn't enough to suppress a long practiced habit of fear in his vicinity. She kept her gaze straying away from his, afraid to intensify the sinking feeling. Much to her misfortune he didn't share the same plan.Her tongue stung when her teeth pierced on the poor flesh, erupting shivers all across her flesh when his hand rested on her thigh, only resting at first and then stroking — softly, dangerously — like quiet before the tempest. When her dreadful eyes travelled to him in explanation, he didn't betray a glimpse of emotion. And that, she knew, was not good. Him pulling a
Chirping of crickets residing on the roadside shrubs halted for seconds as a luxurious Mercedes passed by, now driving within the specified limits. The silence within car was suffocating, his hold on her thigh tightening. He was not pleased by the way she had acted minutes ago, playing victim as if he was kidnapping her. Yes, she should have been scared, nothing sort of romance awaited her in his suite, but she should have carried a sense of responsibility, at least in the situations that demanded it. He had no doubt he was going to lose it tonight. She had fucked up a big time tonight. "I don't think he believed me" she mumbled under her breath, looking out the window. Of course"What makes you say that sweetheart?" he asked, mockery drenching his voice, veneering the fact that he did not want to hear her speak unless she was told to. "They're following us" He looked at her and then in the front mirror, finding no one behind them. Yet he did not take her assumption for foolish
When their lips finally parted, she was out of breath. He brushed a few strands behind her ear, watching her ragged breath return to normal, her gaze still glued on his wet lips. "Do you think it worked?" he asked, caressing her thighs. "Absolutely" she whispered, moving her gaze to his eyes. She had no doubt the officer had left, ticking one trouble off the list."Good girl" he hushed, and something clenched, probably her legs around his torso, or her heart surrounding her soul, or perhaps, both."I am almost impressed" his hands furtively moved inside the skimpy dress, playing with the thin string of her thong, slowly pulling it downward, "Almost". His deep voice sent warmth down her body, his actions too hypnotising to be understood. But when her senses awoke from the deep pool of lust, she became aware of the place and time, her hand instinctively went to hold his wrist, unsure. "Donavan this is not the pl-""Shhhhh" he rasped, silencing the woman by kissing her again, softly,
She was least aware of her surroundings. It was probably the counter mechanism of her brain to stifle the intensity of her emotions, some of the most piercing being guilt that had now engulfed her whole.Yet she realised the warmth of the bathtub when she was put in it, her supposed husband embracing her in his arms, thoroughly cleaning her as if she had lost the ability to do it herself. In a way, she had, her emotionlessness visible enough for every functional eye to see. It was the kind of phase Donavan had witnessed before, when she would find herself spiraling down the depth of depression and wretchedness. Donavan was aware that she deserved it, she should have thought endless times before pulling a stunt like she had tonight. But as it happened so, her life had dearly lacked excitement; on the pursuit of which, she had landed herself in grave trouble. It was of course the simplified version of her motivation, deep down he knew her hopes were way more complicated than he could
He slumped on the sofa wearily. With a legendary confidence, Don had made inside his office on time, seven in the morning. However after only couple of hours of dragged dedication, the lack of sleep had caught up with him speedily.After dismissing several meetings from the schedule and dodging Enzo's several attempts at enquiring how she had exactly found her way to their destination, he had managed to fit on the not exactly comfortable sofa in his office. Never had the brown temptation ever managed to lure him into a nap, but as it happened so, it had come to use after an entire night sleep's sacrifice.His legs hung outside the edge lifelessly, his height making the couch-of-three seem too short for himself. His hands folded on his chest as he napped like a mummy inside the coffin, facing the ceiling.Alas his peace concluded too short when the door to his office was aggressively opened. Though cautious in sleep, he felt too tired to open his eyes, hoping that that the intruder was
Little mam of the house, addressed as Inaya otherwise enjoyed the fresh air by the passenger seat, moving disinterestingly on the songs claimed as her favourite.Originally Enzo and Sia were supposed to travel from a different car. But since Don considered he might need the assistance of Enzo and Tara would require Sia's, the entire car was crammed with five people with their own forms of awkward silences, except for the little girl who didn't give a flying care for the obvious discomfort of the people who seemed to have some secret grudges against each other.Tara sat exactly between Sia and Enzo on the backseat. Regardless of how earnestly she loved the luxury of window seat, Donavan had specifically made her seat in between them. It wasn't hard to guess that he disliked the relation between the two, but was kind enough (thanks to the courtesy of his unusually dangerous wife) that he didn't take difficult steps to stop them. Neither was he, for the time being, afraid of the proximit