Page 59 of His Playground

I wince when he pulls out.

“Did I hurt you?” Carlo asks, spinning me around.

I shake my head. “No.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” He brushes a hand over my throat, where his fingers were digging into my skin. I have no doubt there’s a bruise, but also,totally worth it.

“Don’t be. I liked it.” I smile up at him.

“I’m fully aware of that.” He chuckles.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” I say, stepping out of my panties. I bend to pick them up. Carlo beats me to it, though.

“You don’t need these,” he tells me as he pockets them.

I lift a shoulder and walk towards the bathroom. “Suit yourself. If you want all your men getting a glimpse of my vajayjay when I get in and out of your car, because this skirt is pretty short, that’s totally your choice.”

“Wait! I take it back. Put these on,” he says.

I turn to find him right behind me, shoving my panties into my palm. “Thanks.” I push up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Won’t be long,” I tell him before closing myself inside the bathroom.

I lean against the door and take a big breath, wondering how I went from being pissed at him, to letting him fuck me like an animal against the wall.

As we leave the house, I feel like something has shifted between Carlo and me. I feel more… connected to him. Like we’re one and the same. It’s weird but I’m… at ease.

“This place really is perfect. I think Jazzy will love it.” I turn in my seat to face Carlo. He has one hand on the steering wheel, the other on my thigh.

“I hope so,” he says. “I appreciate how welcoming you are of her, by the way. You didn’t sign up for a kid.”

“I didn’t sign up for you either,” I remind him. “But I’m glad it’s you. And she’s a part of you, Carlo. I love you, and I love her.”

“I love you,” he replies, turning to look at me for a moment before his attention goes back to the road. “I want those names on my desk by morning.”

“What?”

“Names. I want them all,” he says.

“What names?”

“Of every guy you let fuck you when we weren’t together. I told you I’m going to kill them all,” he explains.

That’s who he was talking about.I laugh. “That is a long list that you’re never getting.”

Carlo’s head snaps to me. “What the fuck? How many?” he growls.

“I’ve lost count.” I shrug. I haven’t, but he doesn’t need to know that. He made me think he’d cheated on me for years. Hemade me question my worth. His jealousy over people he didn’t have to see with his own eyes and who really are none of his damn business is a small price for him to pay.

“Antonia, this isn’t a joke. How fucking many?” he presses.

“How many women did you fuck in the last two years, Carlo? How many women have warmed your bed in the same spot I used to lie? How many women have you kissed as if they’re your entire world, when it should have been me?” I ask him, matching his tone.

“That’s…” He trails off when I glare at him.

“I think that it’s best for both of us to not talk about the past, Carlo. I’m trying really hard to have faith in you, in us. And constantly being taken back to that day isn’t helping.” I sigh.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He picks up my hand, brings it to his mouth, and gently kisses the back of my wrist.

“Me too,” I whisper.