Page 52 of The Italian Obsession

I give it both barrels. The bed is smashing against the wall as I take what I need from her body—what I’ve been trying to achieve for an hour.

I hiss as I tip my head back and come in a rush. My cock jerks so hard that it’s almost painful.

I open my eyes and look straight down into brown ones. My heart drops.

It isn’t her.

I pull out and fall onto my back beside Sofia, gasping for breath.

She rolls herself so she’s half on my body, and she kisses me. I scrunch my face up and pull my lips away. I don’t want to kiss.

“Wow.” She smiles as she struggles for air. “You’re incredible.”

I close my eyes, my heart still racing. Disappointment floods me about the only way I can get over the line… every single time.

This fascination with Olivia needs to fucking stop.

FEBRUARY, TWO MONTHS LATER

I watch as a boat slowly pulls into port and the passengers get off. The sea breeze whips through my hair.

We are sitting in a bar, having a late and lazy lunch in Venice. Our guards are strategically out of sight, up against the walls. Andrea laughs at something on his phone before he shows me a meme as he scrolls through Instagram. I smile.

We’ve been here for a week. Drea had a break from work and wanted a short getaway. We’ve lain in the sun, eaten, drank, and lay low. While he’s so relaxed that he’s nearly asleep… I’m not. I’m not sure I even know how to relax anymore.

It’s been such a long time.

“Can I get you anything?” the server asks as she smiles down at Andrea.

I smirk as I watch her. She’s been circling him for hours, and knowing him like I do, she will be beneath him in his bed tonight.

“Yes,” he replies. “Two more Aperol Spritz, please.” He gives her a cheeky wink.

“Yes, sir.” She smiles.

I look through the crowd and see a woman in a red dress with blonde hair. I sit up suddenly.

Is that her?

“What?” Drea asks as his eyes follow my line of sight. “What are you looking at?”

“That woman in the red dress over there.”

We both watch, and then she turns. I exhale heavily and slump back into my chair.

It’s not her.

Andrea looks over at me and frowns. “Are you still thinking about her?”

I pick up my drink and sip it. I crunch on a piece of ice as my eyes go to him.

“How long has it been?” He frowns.

“Since what?”

“Since you’ve seen her.”

I shrug. “A long time.”