Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
I don't know why I'm so nervous. I've talked to Izzy and Mikhail about a guy before. They both met my last boyfriend. Well, my first and only boyfriend. And Marcel isn't my boyfriend. I don't know what he is, but I do know that I don't want to give him up just yet.
He doesn't look at me like I'm broken, even though I know I am. He doesn't look at me like I'm a project that needs to be fixed or something he's ashamed of. When Marcel looks at me, all I see is desire. He wants me, despite my sharp edges and shattered parts.
He hasn't exactly seen the worst of it yet, but he's not stupid. He knows something happened to me. The way he gives me space when he knows I need it, and then how he just seems to know when I don't. The way he handles my body when we're… intimate. It's a kind of sex I never thought I could possibly like. With Flynn, it was always gentle, slow. Almost as if he was terrified of making me upset. I liked it. I thought it was what I needed.
Or maybe it's not how the sex is at all. Maybe it's the man himself. Marcel is everything I don't want in a boyfriend, and at the same time, he's everything I want right now. My head is so confused. Maybe I shouldn't talk to Izzy about him yet. I mean, it's not even anything serious.
As if the woman has some psychic power, my adoptive mother's name pops up on my phone, causing the device to dance around the kitchen counter. I've been pacing for an hour, debating whether or not to call her, and here she is.
Picking the phone up, I swipe the green answer symbol and bring it to my ear. "Hey."
"Hey yourself. How're things?" Izzy asks.
"Good, hot."
"You could always come home. It's not hot here," she reminds me.
"I think I like someone and I think it's someone you're not going to like, but I really like him and now I don't know what to do," I blurt out in one long rush of words.
"Whoa, slow down and take a breath," Izzy says. "You good?"
"Mhmm," I mumble.
"Okay, start at the beginning. Who is this someone you like that I'm not going to like?"
"It's the guy, the one I met that night I went out," I tell her.
"That was a few weeks ago. You met him again? How?"
"Ah, well, funny thing actually. He's a friend of Dominic and Lucy's…"
"Dom knows this guy?" Izzy questions.
"Uh-huh. They're friends," I reiterate.
"Okay, we both know Dominic doesn't have any friends. But let's pretend this guy of yours is friends with Dom. Continue. What's going on?"
"We've met up a few times. That's it really. But I think I really like him, Izzy."
"So, what's the problem? I'm assuming if you're going back for seconds or thirds, he's not a dud in the bedroom."
"No, he's really not. He's… Well, he's really good." I laugh.
"Okay. And what's his name?"
"First, did you know that some of Mikhail's contacts beat him up five days ago?" I ask instead of answering her.
"Why would I know that? I don't even know who this mystery guy is. What'd he do that deserved him getting beat up?"
"He followed me into the club. He's… ah… not exactly on friendly terms with the local Russians."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I didn't ask. Anyway, he's really nice to me, Iz. He doesn't look at me like I'm broken. He's seen me when I haven't been at my best, and he didn't appear fazed at all. He listened. He just seems to get me without judgement."
"You really like him." It's not a question.
"I think I do."
"You still haven't told me his name, Zoe."
"His name's Marcel—Marcello," I say while purposely leaving out his last name.
"He's Italian?" Izzy asks.
"Uh-huh."
"What's his last name?"
"De Bellis," I reply in a much quieter tone.
"Marcello De Bellis. Hot name," she muses.
"Suits him."
"You know the De Bellis family isn't on the up-and-up, Zoe. I don't know all of what they're involved in but I do know it's some shady shit."
"How shady?" I ask her.
"Underworld shit. The same underworld shit that you wanted to get away from, remember?"
"I wanted to get away from New York, not from you and Mikhail. I love you guys. I appreciate everything you've done for me. I don't… Well, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you." I wipe the stray tear from my eye.
"We love you too, Zoe. You're family. It doesn't matter if you're halfway across the world. You are still family."
"Thank you."
"So tell me more about this Marcel guy. Like, how old is he?"
"He's… around my age. He's in college."
"What's he studying?"
"Business," I tell her.
"Figures." Izzy snorts. "And the sex? You're enjoying it?"
"It's different, mind-blowing. I didn't know sex could be like this, Izzy. I feel safe with him. Like… It sounds stupid, I know, but he makes me feel safe."
"That's not stupid. If you like him and he's treating you well, then I'm sure we will like him too," she says.
"Mikhail's friends beat him up, Izzy."
"He knew what he was doing walking into a Russian club."
"But I didn't even know he was there. I didn't know he followed me, and really, all he did was ask for me."
"Then Mikhail's contacts did their job. Protecting you is important to him. You know that."
"I don't want him getting hurt again because of me."
"I'll talk to Mikhail," Izzy says. "We want you to be happy, Zoe, but I also want you to be safe."
"I know. And I am being safe. Promise." I pause. "Iz, do you believe in curses? Like, is it an Italian thing?"
"A lot of Italians believe in curses. Why do you ask?"
"Just something Marcel said. It's nothing. I just don't think I believe it, you know?"
"Yeah, I get it." There's some shuffling in the background. "Crap, I gotta go. Baby just woke up. Sorry, Zoe," she rushes out.
"It's okay. I'll talk to you later. Thanks, Iz."
I set my phone back on the counter, then go upstairs and run the bath. I feel a whole lot better after talking to Izzy. She has a way of putting my mind at ease, making me feel like everything is going to work out okay.
It's been like that from the very first moment she found me. Saved me. I didn't think I'd ever escape the hell I was in, but she swooped in like my own personal angel. She didn't have to take me into her home, help me heal and give me the skills I needed to enter the world again. While Mikhail made me realise there are some good men in the world. That not all men are sick bastards and only want to hurt me. The way Mikhail loves Izzy, so openly and unconditionally… that's the kind of love I wanted.
After Flynn, I'd reconciled with myself that love wasn't in the cards for me. I'm okay with that, but maybe I can still have some form of a connection with someone? There's something there with Marcel. I wouldn't call it love, but it's something. I like him. And I like the way he makes me feel.
Once the bath is full, I stick my hand in the water to test it before stripping off and getting in. I let my body sink into the warmth and feel the tension release instantly. Leaning my head back, I close my eyes and the first image that pops into my head is Marcel.
Bending me over that desk. The way he took me exactly how he wanted. My thighs squeeze together, while the memory of just how good he felt inside me has my core quivering with need.
I let my fingers run down my torso, past my belly button. Spreading my legs, I run two fingertips through the lips of my pussy. A moan echoes off the bathroom wall as the image of Marcel, and his filthy words, plays back through my mind. Turning me on more and more.
Dipping my fingers inside myself, I imagine that they're Marcel's. That he's here in the bath with me. That he has my legs spread wide and is thrusting in and out of me.
My thumb circle my clit as I pump my own fingers to the same rhythm I imagine him using. I can feel the orgasm building. It's coming fast and hard. I scream out as my legs clench closed, my pussy convulsing as I come with Marcel's name on my lips.
I open my eyes and glance around the bathroom while a sense of loneliness I don't usually feel hits me. I don't know what it means. I just pleasured myself. It felt good. And now the reality that I'm alone in this big house weighs me down like a ton of bricks.
"Argh, not today," I groan while lifting myself out of the tub. I pull the plug and wrap a towel around my torso. I need to distract myself.
I'm not that girl. The one who needs people. I like being alone. I love it actually. When I'm alone, I can just be me. There's no pretending. No feigned bravery required. It's just me. As I am.
I'm not going to start needing someone else now. Even if the someone I want had the ability to pleasure me in a way I clearly can't do for myself.