Page 5

Helena

This has to be one of my favorite days of my life. Well, if you ignore the scary-looking mafia guy who showed up at the home I shared with my father and threatened to take the house from us. Other than that little mishap, I can finally check off visiting the Bella Cucina from my bucket list.

"Would you like to have dessert?" the handsome mob heir sitting across from me asks, a smirk playing on his lips. Oh, he knows I don't have room for dessert, and a part of me wants to indulge, but I'm too full. Anymore and I will explode.

"It's hard for me to resist dessert," I whisper, reaching for my glass of wine. "I might come back just for the dessert in the future."

"I can ask them to pack whatever dessert you want to take home."

I blink at the man, questioning once more if I fell at some point during the day and gave myself a concussion. This has got to be some kind of fever dream because did Fabian – the mob heir who terrifies half of Moth Hill with his mere existence – just ask me if he could have the restaurant pack dessert for me?

"I would like that," I tell him. It would be silly to refuse his offer to bring home desserts from this place. Plus, I want to share them with my dad and his caregiver, Annette, our neighbor since I was a little girl. She offered to stay with my father for the evening while I went out. She takes care of him when I'm working, but never at night. It was kind of her to offer to work tonight, especially since it’s Christmas Eve.

I watch Fabian talk to a waiter, but they are speaking in Italian, so I shift my focus from their exchange to the man himself. It's unfair just how good-looking Fabian is. There isn't a single lock of hair out of place, and everything about him is so put together. I fight the urge to reach up and tug at his hair or rustle his shirt. I bet his chest is firm and sturdy. It looks that way from where I'm seated.

For such a stoic man, I wonder what kind of expression he'd make if I touched him. Would he remain a tense rock and those eyes cold or would his features soften? Not that I have much or any experience when it comes to men but with Fabian, I find myself wondering what he looks like underneath his form-fitting suit. What he sounds like when he isn't on guard and… how that mouth would feel pressed against me. Trailing my skin and to my secret spots.

I gasp at the sudden squeeze in my panties, drawing attention to me. Fabian studies me for a second and it does nothing but fuel the fire building between my legs.

“Helena, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I say quickly, clenching my thighs together but that only sends the intense feeling building in my core. It’s not the first time I’ve experienced this, I’m twenty-one for Christ’s sake, but it’s never been this intense.

Was it something I ate?

“Helena–”

“I need to use the bathroom,” I say, perhaps a little too loudly from the heads that turn my way. I flush at the attention before grabbing my purse and rushing towards the washrooms. I push into the first stall I come across and walk inside, my head reeling from what is happening to me.

It's arousal. I know what the heck it is, but why is it happening to me? Now and here of all places? Sure, I've been seated all night across the hottest man in Moth Hill with dark eyes that burn into my skin but that is no reason to get this hot and bothered. I've met tons of hot men before, well… none that could live up to Fabian's good looks but my point stays.

I place a hand on my chest and force myself to calm down, ignoring the wetness in my panties. I can get through the rest of the evening and then take care of this – whatever the hell “this” is – when I get home. Far away from the man that is causing it.

Even so, that doesn’t stop me from imagining what it would feel like if I let Fabian take care of it for me.

Snap out of it, Helena! You can’t forget why you are here tonight .

I take a moment to relax and gather my emotions before I feel ready to face the man once more. "I just need to get through the rest of the meal," I say to my reflection in the mirror as I wash my hands in the sink. "The night is almost over."

I think I've probably spent enough time in the bathroom, so I walk out and head back to our table. The waiter is gone, and Fabian is standing by the table holding my coat. Oh, we're leaving already? I push back the disappointment I feel and instead flash the man a smile.

“Are you okay, Helena?”

God, why does his voice have to be so deep and rich? It's doing things to me that it shouldn't. I swore off bad boys a long time ago and Fabian is the worst one of all. He is a mob heir for Christ's sake.

“I’m fine.”

“Good,” he says, helping me into my coat. “I asked them to pack and deliver a variety of desserts to your home.”

I swing around to look at him, shock clear in my eyes. “You did?” Heck, I didn’t even know Bella Cucina did food deliveries, but this is Fabian Lorenzo after all. “Thank you,” I whisper.

He offers me his arm and I slide my hand into his before following him out of the restaurant.

This is it.

The end of our evening together. An evening that was supposed to cover the debt my family owes this man and now… this is it. I’ll probably never get to see Fabian after this and that’s a good thing. Right?

Christ, I don’t know anymore.

My heart is thumping in my chest as we wait for his car to come around. A part of me wants Fabian to be a scum bag and prove me wrong. I want him to ask for more. For him to wrap his arms around my waist and yank me flush against his study chest. I want to feel that firm mouth against mine.

I want to taste the wine on his lips. I bet it tastes a hundred times more addictive on his tongue than straight from the glass. So, I wait for it. But it never comes.

His car, a sleek Mercedes, pulls up in front of us and the valet walks out but I make no move to walk towards the car. Something keeps my feet glued to the ground, unwilling to get into the car and let him drive me home. It’s only nine. Do I really need to get back home this early? I could… stay a little longer with the man. If he wants. Does he want me to?

Christ, what is happening to me?

“Helena?”

“Uh?” I look up to find both Fabian and the Valet staring at me. I flush at being caught spacing out.

“Are you sure you are okay?”

No, I don't think so. There are parts of me that ache with the need for relief and I don't know what to do about it. No, I don't think I'm okay. "I'm fine," I say with a smile. It would be insane to say otherwise.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, I…" I clear my throat, brushing my hair from my shoulder. "I think I ate a little too fast and my stomach hurts a little. Do you… um, do you think… we could take a little walk before you drive me home?"

Fabian scrutinizes me for a second before he nods to the valet who climbs back into the car and drives off, leaving us standing outside. I shuffle nervously in my heels, afraid to look up and see the look on my date's face but then he slides his hand around my waist, sending goosebumps licking up my body. I bite back a whimper when the hand tightens on me and the spot between my legs pulse wildly at the move.

“My penthouse is a fifteen-minute walk from here, do you think you can handle it?”

God yes!

I bite back the relieved sigh that tries to escape. Christ, he read me like a book. I should have been a little subtle with the lustful looks I have been throwing his way since dinner ended and on a typical day, my need would embarrass me but I can’t find it in me to be ashamed, so I nod.

“I can handle a fifteen-minute walk.”

***

I can in fact, not handle a fifteen-minute walk.

In my defense, I didn’t think I would spend the entire time with the man rubbing his massive hand on my waist and fueling the fire burning inside of me. He must’ve known what it was doing to me! The torture he was putting me through.

“We’re here.”

I let Fabian guide me into the lobby and my head barely registers on anything or anyone we see as we zero in for the elevators. No one tries to stop the man and the butterflies in my stomach suddenly start fluttering when we step into the elevator.

Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. For a long time, I closed off the idea of sex after the whole fiasco that happened two years ago with that jerk at my prom. I never wanted to open up to anyone ever again and now I am about to walk into this man's penthouse. A man I only met today and I am not under any illusions that he's bringing me into his home to share a cup of coffee with me and talk local politics.

We’re going to have sex.

I look up at the tall man and question how he would react if he found out I’ve never quite been intimate with anyone before. Would that turn him away? Make him want to take me home and not deal with the complications a virgin brings to the table.

Fabian turns to look at me and I quickly withdraw my gaze, staring straight and trying to shove back the panic that surfaces. That and the insecurity of this man not wanting me as much as I want him.

The elevator doors open to reveal a massive hallway and there's that hand on my waist again. As we step out of the elevator, I'm immediately enveloped by the rich scent of polished wood and a hint of something floral. It soothes me a bit. The hallway is bathed in soft, warm light with sleek modern décor, but I would expect nothing less from this man.

At the end of the hall, near a massive door stands an expansive floor–to–ceiling window that showcases a breathtaking view of the city skyline, the twinkling lights of the buildings, and snow falling creating a dazzling backdrop.

Fabian pauses in front of a door and with a few swift movements, he enters the code on the keypad beside the door. I can feel the flutter in my stomach grow as the door clicks open, revealing a spacious living area but my eyes are on the massive window that reveals more of the city.

“Helena?”

I pull my gaze away from the massive window and to the man standing next to me, watching me with such heat I can practically feel it burn into my skin. “Your home is lovely.”

His mouth twitches into a smile. "And you can tell that from the door?" It's not until he mentions it that I realize that neither of us has stepped into his home. The open door reveals a little bit of his living room and that massive window. "Would you like to come in, and have some coffee?"

"No," I whisper, my eyes widening when I realize that he might misinterpret my words. "I mean, I don't want coffee. I would love to come in. I just don't want coffee. I don't like it. I have never quite liked the taste, really. I find coffee tastes bitter no matter how much sugar one puts in it and… I'm blabbering. Sorry."

“Wine?”

“I don’t want that either.”

“Are you going to make me list everything I have in the house, or will you tell me what you want.”

“You!” I blurt out, my heart racing as the words slip out. but I don’t backtrack. I swallow rapidly and try to calm the harsh beating of my heart because as much as I want this, it scares me a little. Christ, I want this so bad. This man. I haven’t felt this way about someone before, but I want this – want him.

“Helena!”

Fabian eases closer to me, causing my heart to hammer harder than it ever has. His scent is warm and inviting and I have to resist the urge to lean in and bury my face in his collar. Jesus, since when am I this needy? This man must have unlocked something in me the second our eyes locked for the first time outside my home and… I want to explore it with him.

"I- I want you," I whisper, in case he didn't hear it the first time. "But I…"

"But what?" His right hand slides under my coat and circles my waist before he yanks me hard against his chest. My breath comes out in short pants when I feel the hard press of his chest against my breasts. It's hard, just as solid as I imagined it would be. "What's stopping you?" A shudder wracks my body when he slides his left hand down my hips and into my dress, dragging it up my bare skin, leaving behind a trail of heat everywhere he touches. His hand moves until my panties are exposed and I flush at the thought of him touching me there and finding out how wet I am. My panties are practically stained with arousal, and he'll instantly know how much I want him.

Fabian leans in and brushes his lips over my jaw, his hot breath fanning my skin and sending more heat to my trembling sex. His mouth lands on my ear and I whimper at the feeling that rocks my body. “You are shaking,” he says gruffly. “Are nervous or scared to be alone with me?”

"It's not that," I manage, barely. I'm in tune with everything this man is doing to me, so much so that it's hard to grasp onto my thoughts to keep this conversation going. Using his hand to keep my dress up, Fabian slides his fingers into the waistband of my panties and tugs them down my thighs. "Fabian," I whimper when I feel his hand slide back up my inner thighs, and then… he touches me.

There is little that could have prepared me for the feeling of his strong fingers grazing my sex. I thought I knew what it was like but the pleasure I sought out myself when I was lying alone in my bed does not compare to the storm that floods my system outside this man’s door.

“You’re drenched, baby.” There is surprise in his voice as he runs his finger between my wet sex. His voice is strangled, telling me how much he likes that I am practically dripping with arousal for him. “You are so fucking wet for me, Helena. Fuck me!”

With a strangled grunt, Fabian removes his hand to tear my flimsy panties off and I don’t look to see where he tosses them as his mouth lands on mine and all I can think is… finally. My eyes flutter to a close and my hands must have a mind of their own because I barely register how they get to his chest in the first place.

There is no teasing or the slow drag of lips like I have seen in the movies and fantasized would happen to me. No, Fabian devours me like he's starving. Like he is a man that's wanted to kiss me for ages and he's not going to waste his one chance in doing so.

God, I can taste the wine on his lips and I moan at the slick friction of our tongue. We fit together, like a puzzle, and the smooth slide of our lips – albeit a little awkward seeing as this is my first kiss and all – is perfect.

I trail my hand down his pecs, reveling in the feel of his muscles under my fingertips. He is big and tall, I bet he looks better undressed.

“You don’t need to be scared of me, angel,” he rasps into the kiss, trailing his mouth to my jaw.

“I’m not scared.”

Fabian pulls back to look at me. “Then what is it?”

I blink beardly at the man. We’ve come this far, I might as well be honest. “I… well, I don’t really know what I’m doing,” I whisper, locking my eyes with his to gauge his reaction. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“And that is?”

“Be with a man,” I clarify, my heart racing from more than just nerves. “I’ve never had sex before. And I want to do it… with you. But what if I do something embarrassing or wrong and turn you away…”

My words trail over when I notice the dark look that crosses his expression. His nostrils flare as he runs his eyes over me. “You’re a virgin,” he growls, his eyes firing up with desire.

“Yes?” I whisper, confused by his reaction. This is not what I was expecting from the man. It’s almost like my words flip something into the man and if I wasn’t scared before, then I’m definitely now. Something tells me that it’s too late to run now. Not that I want to.

There is something dark and possessive in his eyes as his hand drops to my wrist and he’s tugging me into his house. Whatever reservations he has seem to have dropped and now, the call is out of my hands.