Page 174 of The Italian Obsession

“Oh.” I frown. “I didn’t hear any crunching,”

“Manuel mentioned it.” He smiles. “How was your day?”

“Good.” I feel a wave of discomfort sweep through me at being alone with him in the house. Especially after the look he gave me this morning.

Maybe I’m imagining this entire thing. Did he even give me a look?

“I’ll just be out the front if you need me,” he says before taking off through the front door.

I stare at the closed door he has disappeared through. I’m having a serious discussion with Rico about the amount of people around here. It’s like a revolving door with different people coming and going all the time. I hate it.

Manuel and his wife are different. They’re the caretakers and live on the property. But the rest of them, quite frankly, give me the creeps.

I walk into the kitchen, put the kettle on, and I slip my shoes off. What will I do with my early mark of an afternoon? I wish I were in Milan. I could have gone to the gym. Actually, I might use the gym here. Yeah, why not? Rico isn’t going to be home until later. I might as well. I make my cup of tea and head up to get changed into my gym clothes. I smile when I walk into my wardrobe.

It’s pitiful. Three measly drawers are filled with my things, because that’s all I own. This walk-in is bigger than most people’s bathrooms. I open Rico’s wardrobe and see all his beautiful suits and designer clothes displayed perfectly. It’s like a shop. I look over his expensive watches and his aftershave. I count his shoes. Forty-three pairs!

“What man owns forty-three pairs of shoes?” I scoff. “That’s just ridiculous.”

I grab my gym clothes and walk into the bathroom, and I freeze. The tube of lubricant is on the sink as if it’s just been washed.

Wait…

I thought I put that back in Enrico’s side drawer this morning when I got out of bed specifically so that nobody would see it. We use it when we get super naughty; he’s too big and likes it too rough.

I open the lid of the clothes hamper and peer inside. There’s a lone pair of my panties sitting in the bottom. I reach in and dig them out. I did not put these in here.

I carefully inspect them… they’re dirty. These were in my suitcase with my other clothes that needed to be washed.

I look around the bathroom, knowing something is off here.

My eyes widen at once. What the fuck? Was Sergio in here jerking off to the smell of my dirty panties?

Is that what he was doing upstairs?

A cold shiver runs through me. No… surely not.

I drop to sit on the bed—dirty panties in hand. This is fucking weird.

What guy would go into his boss’s bedroom and jerk off to his boss’s girlfriend’s panties?

My phone rings. It’s Natalie. “Hey, how did it go?”

“Oh my God, I have to get this job. The guy who interviewed me is fucking orgasmic.”

I smile as I look down at the panties in my hand. “Really?”

“He looked like Elvis. Love me tender, baby.”

I burst out laughing. “You’re hilarious. What did he say?”

“He said he’s going to call me tonight and let me know if I got it.”

“Great. How do you think it went?”

“Good, I guess. When I wasn’t imagining myself sucking his dick under the table.”

I shake my head as I laugh. “Tell me I’m crazy over here. I need you to talk me off the ledge.” I close my bedroom door and go into the bathroom so that nobody can hear us.