“You will be,” he rasps. “I agreed to this because I couldn’t imagine you sharing yourself with another man, let alone a line of them,” he explains as he wraps his hands around the sides of my neck. “You were meant to be mine the moment those big blue eyes of yours met mine in the SUV, dolcezza.”
“Why me?” I ask softly.
He smirks. “Why not you, Pippa? You’re breathtakingly beautiful. You’re soft and sweet, you laugh freely and it’s mesmerizing.”
My lips twitch into a small smile. “I don’t,” I mumble.
“You do. I’ve seen you from afar with friends in cafés. I shouldn’t admit that I’ve kept tabs on you, but I have and everything I’ve ever seen has been a beauty that I know without a doubt I am not worthy enough to have to myself.”
“Except you do.”
His eyes twinkle and I think that he’s finally going to smile and that it will reach his eyes, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward and his lips touch mine briefly.
“I do. Now, put on something sexy. I’m sure Lenora set you up with more than just the number you wore last night.”
“For dinner?” I breathe.
He hums. “I want to look at my gift all evening before I unwrap it,” he rasps against my lips.
Chapter Fourteen
PIPPA
Walking into the townhome in Brooklyn Heights, I wonder immediately how he has everything that’s here. Not only does this building have its own one-car garage, it is three stories with so much space, I don’t think I’ll ever feel even slightly claustrophobic.
The outside is brick with black accents, which also spill over into the interior, black accents with warm woods and white walls and ceilings are everywhere and I love it. The townhouse immediately feels like home.
“Your things have already been brought over from the club,” Massimo announces as soon as I walk into the master bedroom. “You can decorate any way you like, keep in mind, I like the mattress and the sheets.”
He sounds so matter of fact, almost bored as he tells me about the sheets and mattress. Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at him and watch as he starts to unpack his small bag.
“Massimo?”
He stops, lifting his head slightly, his eyes finding mine as I turn around to face him completely. Massimo doesn’t speak, his brow arching after a couple of seconds when I don’t say anything immediately.
“Who decorated this place?” I ask.
He lets out an exasperated sigh before he goes back to separating his clothes from his small bag, obviously annoyed with me. I wait for him to answer me, knowing that he’ll do it on his own time, if at all.
Massimo is a pretty cliché Made Man in a lot of ways. I’m honestly not seeing this big difference between the new generation and the old like Luciana and Nicola claimed. Massimo is exactly as I thought that he would be.
He orders my food for me, demands that I eat what he’s given me. He makes demands of my body, does what he wants when he wants. Goes where he wants when he wants as well.
He doesn’t tell me much about himself, doesn’t always answer my questions, but demands that I answer his. Throws money in my face and expects me to be overly grateful that he provides this life for me.
Maybe things will change as we get to know one another, maybe he’ll show me a different side of him eventually, but right now, I don’t see it. Not at all. He’s just like every other Made Man I have ever heard about or seen in my life.
“Mia and a couple of her girls did it for me. A couple of the guys have used interior designers, but they were booked and I needed it done,” he explains as if he hadn’t just told me that a Madam and call girls decorated his home.
“How many of them spent the night here?”
He laughs, though it’s without humor. “Not your fuckin’ business,” he snaps.
“It’s not?” I ask softly.
He shakes his head, his obsidian gaze finding mine. I watch as his lips form a thin line and a muscle jumps in his cheek. “It’s not,” he confirms. “Nothing about that part of my life is a wife’s business. You need to learn your place, dolcezza.”
Crossing my arms just beneath my breasts, I tilt my head to the side, my face suddenly feeling hot. “Don’t call me sweetheart when you’re laying down the law and being an asshole.”
His head jerks as his eyes widen. “An asshole?” he asks. “Should I ask you about every detail of your past?”
“It would be painfully short considering you know that I was a virgin two days ago,” I say, reminding him, though I doubt he needs it.
I watch as he licks his lips, then shakes his head. “I fucked the girls down at the casino. Is that what you want to hear? None of them slept here, in fact, you’ll be the first woman to ever be in that bed. I go to the women I fuck and leave as soon as it’s over. There is no tenderness, I don’t care about their feelings, they provide a service and I pay for that service.”
Sucking my lips in, I take a step back, stumbling slightly before I right myself. “Okay,” I breathe.
“You would have been one of them, Pippa. You would have been fucked, then left, providing a service for faceless men like me, clients.”
“Stop,” I rasp.
He doesn’t realize that his words, they don’t hurt me for myself. Instead, all I can do is think about Bellarosa being one of those women, she was younger than me and I can’t fathom the life that she was forced to lead.
Massimo closes the distance between us, lifting his hand, he cups my jaw and looks directly into my eyes. “You are not one of
