Page 40 of The Italian Reckoning (A New York Criminal Empire #3)

“Because I love you, Sarah. I thought that was glaringly obvious.”

My heart stalls slightly in my chest. “You don’t love me.”

“I do.”

“How can you?” My voice cracks and I swallow hard. “I don’t understand.”

“Very easily,” Rocky replies and he sets the bowl aside. “What don’t you understand?”

“Everything. Everything I put you through, everything I did. The yelling and the fighting and the… everything these past weeks. How can you love that?”

“Sarah, that’s what love is. What you went through and what you’re currently going through doesn’t change how I feel about you.

Because how I feel about you is what makes me take care of you.

When people you love are hurting, you take care of them in any way you can, and Sarah, you went through something horrific.

Twice. And I…” He frowns slightly. “I can’t take that from you, and I can’t ever understand as much as I want to.

So I’m here to help you and support you in any way I can.

And I’m not going to blame you for how you react to things because I can’t fathom how painful it is to even process what you went through.

So… for me, it’s really easy. I love you, and I’m here.

For as long as you want me. And that’s all that matters to me. ”

I want to tell him he’s wrong. That I have nothing good to offer him.

My feelings for Rocky are jumbled and lost under the sheer exhaustion of just keeping myself together.

But he speaks with such gentle softness that I want to cry.

I want to push him away as much as I want to pull him close.

I almost tell him to go and find someone much more worth loving, but the determination burning in his eyes stops me.

He rubs one hand over his thigh and scoffs gently.

“And… maybe part of it is because I’m selfish.”

“How?” I ask hoarsely.

“When I’m with you, when I’m near you, everything up here is quiet.

” He lightly taps his temple. “Usually, I feel like I’m running a million miles a second, but when I’m with you, I feel like I can breathe.

Like I can think real thoughts and really hear myself.

Something about you, Sarah, just calms me in ways I’ve never experienced before.

So I know that you’re special. To me. And so everything else is easy.

Because I love you. You make me smile. You make me feel at ease.

Your compassion is admirable. Your conviction to your morals and doing the right thing. And you make me feel so calm.”

Okay, I’m definitely going to cry now.

Kicking back the blanket, I stand slowly and stretch out the slight ache in my legs from sitting for too long. Holding out my hand, I take the remote from Rocky and change the channel to one that plays music and then hold out my hand again.

“Dance with me.”

Rocky’s brows lift slightly. “Huh?”

What better way to find out if he truly is for me? “Dance with me.”

Rocky takes my hand and stands slowly, then he steps closer to me and very cautiously places one hand on my waist. I place my other hand on his shoulder and stare up at him, studying the depth of soul visible in his eyes and then smile.

The music plays, and we start to sway together back and forth. It’s a spur of the moment idea, and I’m not entirely sure what I’m hoping this will tell me. Maybe fate will intervene and fuck this up as some kind of sign that we’re not destined together.

But nothing like that happens. We stay arm in arm, swaying together to the music, and it becomes almost too easy to lean into Rocky and follow his lead.

He doesn’t say a word when I lean closer and eventually lay my head on his shoulder, or when we become so aligned that we’re swaying as one.

We dance through several songs before I speak.

“I haven’t danced in years,” I say softly. “Not properly. Not like this. But I used to love it. Y’know, before.”

“Before the first time?” Rocky asks softly.

I nod. “After, it felt impossible. I tried to force myself a couple of times like at the club with friends, but it wasn’t what I enjoyed. And it wasn’t the same. But I missed it. Just the silence and the music and the closeness of someone else, y’know?”

“I like dancing,” Rocky replies. “Although anything beyond this might highlight my gross inability to actually perform decent moves.”

“I won’t judge,” I murmur. “I’m just… happy we can.”

We sway back and forth through another two songs and then eventually return to the sofa, only this time, I sit much closer than before.

Rocky’s description of why he loves me plays over and over in my mind, battling against my own internal reasoning as to why he shouldn’t.

I can’t call him a liar since his words sounded so soulfully honest.

He means it.

But how do I feel?

Rocky takes the remote and switches back to the Gremlins. We enjoy the last half hour of old-school carnage until one scene makes Rocky laugh and his hand lands without thought on my abdomen due to how I’m slouching.

I feel him freeze up instantly, and a jolt of alarm moves through me as if I’ve been burned, but the usual urge to recoil doesn’t flood me this time. Instead, the warm weight of his hand brings me a deep sense of comfort.

Our eyes meet, with panic blaring in Rocky’s, and I see the apology forming before he even says the words. As he tries to snatch his hand back, I catch his wrist. I have no plan. I’m just going by what feels right and touching Rocky, being close to him and his warmth, feels right.

Our eyes meet again, and his lips part until I surge up and silence him with a sweet, brief kiss.

“Sarah,” Rocky murmurs, his voice husky. “You…”

“I know,” I whisper back.

“Are you… okay?”

I nod quickly with my teeth sinking into my lower lip, chasing the fleeting pressure from Rocky’s mouth. “I… It felt right, y’know?”

He nods as well and his eyes dart down to my lips, then back up to my eyes. “Anything else… feel right?”

What an open-ended question. My mind is calm. Maybe it’s the nice night we’ve been having, maybe it’s the effects of the dancing. Maybe it’s the movies.

Mostly, it’s Rocky.

I kiss him again, slowly. Each warm, soft press of his lips has a note of hesitation where he lets me lead, and while it’s appreciated, I miss the power that usually exists in his affection.

The tightness of his hands, the hunger in his kiss, and the neediness in his moans.

The longer I kiss him, the harder I crave it so I press up into the touch.

Rocky makes a surprised sound in his throat, then his hand cradles my face and he kisses me a fraction harder.

There it is.

That’s what I want.

My hands move to his shirt and I pull him closer.

What starts as tender kissing quickly dissolves into frantic kissing that grows more and more heated by the second.

Rocky constantly tries to hold himself back so his eagerness comes in waves.

Soft kisses but firm touches, gentle caresses and nibbling teeth.

Not a single thought exists in my mind until Rocky’s attention wanders south and my clothes are shed, leaving me bare to his touch and attention.

The fresh pink scars across my body and abdomen make Rocky pause and he kneels before me, between my spread legs, and looks up at me with such open, honest uncertainty.

“I’m okay,” I say softly. “I promise.”

And I am.

There’s no itchiness over my skin from his touch, no urge to recoil when his lips press against my new scars. There’s no panic in my heart and no prickling warmth down my spine urging me to escape.

There’s only Rocky.

His warm, caressing hands. His soft lips.

His constant attention. My mind remains quiet until he’s between my legs and buried against my pussy, eating me out like it’s his first ever meal.

There, his touch turns firmer as he grips my thighs for support and presses his face firmly against my pussy.

His lips and tongue work magic over my clit, over my lips, and inside me where he thrusts his tongue as deep as he can get.

Noise rises in my mind.

The song of pleasure.

A rush of need that ignites heat across my skin and sends my heart racing as the first curls of pleasure warm my core and simmer through my veins. Rocky’s attention grows firmer and more insistent, reading each of my trembles, moans, and shifts like he’s fluent in my body’s language.

“Rocky!” I moan his name and arch my back from the couch, closing my thighs around his head as pleasure surges and every nerve inside me sparks like the flick of a match.

I come so hard my world briefly turns white and an overwhelming surge of heat rushes through my core. It’s overwhelmingly intense but through it all, I feel safe. Secure. Rocky’s right there and he holds and licks me slowly through every quiver of pleasure.

And with that ecstasy comes one single thought.

I’m going to be okay.