Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

"It feels weird watching you cook," Roselia said that evening as she sat on the counter once again, watching Stefano expertly move around the kitchen. He was making chicken parmesan, and the scent of the sauce was making her mouth water.

He'd fed her more today than she'd eaten in a week. A huge breakfast, a monstrous sandwich for lunch, and now the aroma of Italian was making her stomach growl as if she'd skipped both previous meals.

Between those two meals, she'd slept most of the day curled up on the couch with her head on his lap. She didn't think he'd slept at all and knew he hadn't slept last night. He was bionic, apparently.

Every time she'd roused, she'd found him staring at her, stroking her hair. She could get used to this. How long could they hide here? She didn't want to know the answer, so she didn't ask. How much cash did he have? He didn't seem stressed by this arrangement at all, as if they had all the time in the world to hide from that same world.

"Am I doing it right?" he teased as he added a bit more Caesar dressing to the salad and tossed it again.

She giggled and covered her mouth. The sound startled her.

He smiled at her. "I love that sound. I want to make you do it as often as possible."

"I'm not sure how I'm even able to smile. If you'd asked me yesterday, I would've told you the world was doomed, and there was no hope for humanity, and I would never experience joy again."

Stefano set the salad tongs down and stalked toward her. He always made her heart race when he did this. And he did it often as though he could only tolerate a few minutes at a time without touching her. She was good with that.

They had this instantly odd, intimate relationship in which he took the liberty to hold her and stroke her skin as if they'd been lovers for years when, in reality, they weren't lovers at all.

"I want all the rest of your days to be filled with joy." He cupped her face and kissed her lips gently before releasing her all too quickly to return to his cooking.

She loved watching him. He was very attractive—tanned skin, light brown hair almost in need of a cut, and penetrating green eyes. She loved the way the corners of his eyes creased when he smiled.

What she really liked was feeling like she had permission to stare at him openly. She never would have met and held his gaze so brazenly before when working at Mr. Santo's house. She would have been embarrassed and turned bright red if he'd caught her ogling him.

It was surprising she was able to do so now after being trained to keep her gaze down at all times for so many months. However, Stefano encouraged her to look at him, and he clearly enjoyed her gaze.

His back was to her, but he shook his butt. "How does my ass look in these jeans?" he asked teasingly.

She giggled again. God, that felt good. Light. Like a huge, heavy burden had been lifted from her. "It fits in that denim perfectly." She'd always enjoyed his ass. It had usually been encased in suit pants, but she liked looking at his backside no matter what he wore.

His back, too. Damn. His shoulders were broad. She could see the lines of muscles running down toward his waist, especially in the tight T-shirt he wore today. It was much more revealing than the dress shirts he'd worn.

When he turned around, she jerked her gaze up to his face. He laughed. "So you were staring at my ass."

She wished her face wouldn't flush, but she couldn't control it. "Don't all women?" she countered.

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I don't pay attention to other women. Plus, my radar only senses what you are doing. No one else."

She let her gaze roam down his body from his face, past his amazing pecs, to his six-pack abs, and then finally the front of his jeans. She didn't know jack about penises, which would undoubtedly surprise him. The extent of her knowledge was what she could discern through the front of a man's pants.

The cruder of the men who'd visited Master J's house had cupped themselves lewdly in her presence as if they were so proud of their disgusting cocks. Sometimes, she'd noticed a bulge. Other times she'd been certain the men were full of shit.

Stefano had an impressive package that was usually filled out when she glanced at it, but he didn't grab it, hold it, shake his hips at her, or even comment on it.

"You're good for my ego," he said as he turned back to stirring the sauce.

Fifteen minutes later, they sat at the small table, eating this gourmet meal as if they were a perfectly ordinary couple.

"This is so delicious," she told him. "Or maybe it's just nice to eat something someone else cooked from an actual plate with utensils while sitting at a table."

His body stiffened.

She looked at him. "Sorry." She felt bad every time she inadvertently said something that upset him.

He set his hand on top of hers. "Do not be sorry. I'm sorry I flinched. I'll try not to do so again."

"It's okay. I'd flinch too if I were you."

They went back to eating. Roselia was stuffed by the time they finished. Beyond stuffed. She'd taken the freedom to eat however much she wanted seriously.

"I'll clean up," she said as she started to stand.

Stefano stopped her with a hand on hers again. "You'll do no such thing. Stop suggesting it. You can sit and watch me."

She sighed. "You can't do everything for me, Stefano."

"Watch me," he countered. He rose and took two of the serving dishes to the counter next to the sink.

When she followed him with their plates, he set them down before grabbing her hips and swinging her up to sit on the counter again. "Talk to me about drinks. I forgot to order anything interesting. We've had only water and juice so far. What sodas do you like? What about wine or other alcoholic drinks?"

She shrugged. "My mother didn't buy sodas. I've only had them with fast food. I have no strong opinions. I like colas, and I've never tried alcohol."

He loaded the dishwasher while she spoke. "I'll order some carbonated drinks with the next order. Someday, I'll introduce you to fine Italian wine."

"I guess you're Italian," she murmured.

"Yep. My parents actually came here from Italy before I was born."

"And, uh, Santo? He's Italian, too? I assume he's sort of a mafia boss?"

Stefano hesitated. "Yes, and yes."

"Are you in the mafia as well?"

"No," he responded sharply.

"But you worked for him for many years." She was confused. He also hadn't been using his real name.

"I did. I had my reasons. I'll tell you about them another day." He turned on the dishwasher, swept her off the counter, and carried her to the bedroom. "How about you shower, and then I'll look at those welts again."

"I think they're fine now. They stopped burning. They will fade soon."

"Good. I just want to make sure. I don't want them getting infected."

She nodded, wondering if he was using the lines on her body as an excuse to see her naked, a possibility that didn't hurt her feelings in the least. She liked it when he looked at her. Every time he did, it erased another chunk of what she'd been subjected to for months.

He led her into the bathroom and turned on the shower before turning back to her. "Looks like everything we could need is in here. I'll go unpack the rest of our things while you shower."

She grabbed his hand as panic seeped in. She hated the panic, but there was no way to stop it. "Please stay."

He swallowed. "I'm trying to give you some privacy."

"I don't want privacy. I feel like half the men on this planet have seen my naked body thousands of times. I've lost my modesty. I get scared when I'm alone. Plus, I like the way you look at me. It erases the others."

He lowered onto the toilet seat and took her hips, pulling her between his legs. "Your body is perfection, and I'd gladly spend the rest of my life looking at it, but I don't want you to feel pressured by me, nor do I want to make you uncomfortable."

She set her hands on his shoulders and leaned in closer to him. "I'm not uncomfortable with you, and I don't feel pressured. I feel like a human being when I'm with you instead of an object."

His hands slid around to her bottom. "Tell me why you think so many people have seen you naked," he encouraged softly.

"Because Master J filmed us all the time, and he took millions of pictures, especially when we were spread open. He told us he posted pictures and videos on the internet." She shuddered.

Stefano's jaw tightened, and then his nostrils flared, though she knew he was trying to control his reaction. "The only people who will see you naked from now on are me and any medically necessary doctors."

She set her forehead against his. "I like that idea," she whispered.

"I forgot to ask you about feminine products when I placed the grocery order. When was your last period? Do you need pads or tampons soon?"

Her face heated, and she lowered her gaze. She'd never discussed her period with anyone, let alone a man.

Stefano lifted her chin. "Don't be embarrassed. Menstruation is part of life. We all gotta pee. We all gotta shit. And women bleed once a month. No reason to hide these facts or be embarrassed, sweetheart."

She drew in a breath. "Master J made us get a birth control shot every three months. It would have worn off by now. I haven't, uh, started my period yet, but I probably will soon."

"Okay, I'll order whatever you want tomorrow. Do you prefer pads or tampons?"

Damn, he was unflappable on this subject and shockingly matter-of-fact about it. "I've never used tampons," she whispered. "My mother didn't buy them. But I'd like to try them."

"Then we'll order both, just in case." He set her back a few inches. "Time to get in the shower before the water is cold. Arms up."

Before she could grasp his intention, he'd swept her shirt over her head. He bent down to remove her pants next. Socks went last before he spun her around and patted her butt. "Get in."

She pulled the band out of her braid before she stepped into the glass enclosure, keeping an eye on him. "You'll stay, right?"

"Yes, sweetheart. I won't move."

"Thank you." She had the oddest sense of comfort with him. It was strange that she didn't mind him seeing her naked or even taking her clothes off. And she knew she would panic if he left the room.

How long before someone found them and kidnapped her? She tried to shake that idea from her head, but it wouldn't go away.

Master J's words rang in her head. "If I ever hear a single complaint from anyone about your training, I will find you, and you will not like what I do with you."

The shower door opened, and she yelped as she turned to face…Stefano. "Hey," he said softly. "It's just me. You were scaring me."

She shuddered as if she were cold and then threw herself at him, unable to care that she was getting him all wet.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "You're okay now. I'm right here."

"He's going to find me."

"No, he's not. I've done everything I can to make sure no one can find us, sweetheart. And I won't leave your side, not even to shower if it makes you feel safe. I won't let anyone get to you."

She sniffled. "Do you have a gun?"

"Several." He tipped her head back. "They're in safety boxes. I put one under the bed, one under the end table next to the couch, and there's one in the glove compartment of my car. Do not touch them, understood?"

"Yes." Her shoulders relaxed. She'd never been near a gun before, nor had she ever wanted to, but she was glad Stefano had guns and that he was prepared to protect her.

Stefano took a step back, steadying her before he released her. Then he pulled off his clothes, leaving himself in just his underwear before stepping into the shower with her. "Turn around. Let me wash your hair."

Hesitating, she was irrationally relieved as she stared at his broad, muscular chest that tapered down to tight abs. She didn't dare look lower. She knew she was pushing him in ways women should never tempt a man, but she didn't care. So what if he wanted to have sex with her? She'd like to try it. He would never treat her the way all those other men had treated her.

Finally, she turned around and closed her eyes while he washed her hair. When his soapy palms landed on her shoulders and started massaging, she planted her hands on the wall and moaned. It felt so good. So much better than unwanted, groping fingers.

He washed her arms and her back, taking care around the fading welts as he made his way down her legs.

She was panting by the time he reached her feet. Her nipples were tingling hard points, and her sex was swollen.

"Can you turn around for me, sweetheart?"

She lowered her hands and faced him. She was breathing heavily. Could he tell?

He poured more soap on his hands and crowded her as he set his palms on her upper chest.

She tipped her head back and met his gaze as he slid his hands to her breasts. Her breath hitched, and she rose onto her toes.

He never looked away from her eyes, thumbing her nipples slowly while cupping her breasts. When his hands slid down lower to the front of her thighs, she started panting. "Touch me," she whispered.

"Rose…"

She gripped his shoulders. "Please. I want to know what it feels like. Make me feel like it's supposed to feel."

His brow furrowed. "To orgasm?"

She nodded and bit her lip. Would he think she was a freak for not knowing?

He searched her eyes. "You've never had an orgasm, sweetheart?"

She shook her head.

He moved one hand to the small of her back and then lower to cup her bottom. The other hand eased down her stomach toward her sex. When his fingers found her clit, she rose onto her toes and bit down harder on her lip, stifling the moan that wanted to erupt.

"Uh-uh, sweetheart. Don't hold back with me. No one is here but you and me. I want to hear you moan, Rose."

She released her lip as his fingers glided through her folds. When he found her clit again, he circled it and then flicked it over and over.

"Oh, God." She dug her fingers into his biceps now. Her head fell back. She'd never been this close. She'd never let herself get anywhere near this temptation.

"Let it go, sweetheart. Show me how good it feels."

She whimpered, her body swaying, her legs threatening to give out.

He held her bottom tighter and pulled her closer. "Come, sweetheart. Come on my fingers."

The tight ball inside her erupted on his command, and her entire body shook as waves of euphoria swept through her, leaving her limp.

Stefano lifted her into his arms and pressed her forehead against his neck. "I've got you."

She'd never been so glad to have someone catch her in her life. How long could she stay with him and feel this good?

After several minutes, Stefano turned off the water, set her on the mat, and dried her. He wrapped one towel around her hair and another around her body. "Sit on the toilet and wait for me."

Roselia perched on the toilet seat and waited while Stefano showered. He took off his underwear finally, but he did so with his back to her, and he somehow managed to shower, dry off, and wrap a towel around his waist without her getting a glimpse of his erection.

He chuckled when he finally faced her. "Don't look so disappointed, sweetheart. We're not having sex tonight. I've had you for less than twenty-four hours. You're not ready for sex after what you've been through."

Did he think she'd had sex? She sat silently, not wanting to talk about it. Maybe he didn't want to be with her if he thought she'd been with hundreds of other men. She couldn't blame him.

He gently combed out her hair for so long that it was nearly dry by the time he was done. "Do you want me to blow-dry it?"

"No. I want to sleep with it damp like a rebel."

He chuckled. "How does that make you a rebel?"

"Vanderbilt insisted on it being completely dry before I went to bed."

"Ah, well fuck him. You should be a rebel then." He filled her toothbrush and handed it to her.

He peed while she brushed her teeth as if this were perfectly normal behavior, and they did this every night.

She still hadn't gotten to see his shaft, but his ass was so tight and sexy.

"I'll wait right outside the door for you to use the toilet, Rose." He stepped out but didn't close the door. She was grateful. She would have preferred he not leave the room at all, but peeing in front of him made her feel self-conscious. She'd used the bathroom several times during the day, and every time, she'd left the door ajar and hurried, trying not to panic.

Stefano had shorts on when she entered the bedroom. The dresser was next to the bathroom door. He took the towel from her. "Find a nightgown, Rose. I put them in the middle drawer." He stepped into the bathroom to hang up the towel.

Ignoring everything Stefano had brought her from her apartment, she opened one of his drawers, pulled out a T-shirt, and put it on before climbing into bed.

He chuckled as he joined her. "I like that even better."

She did, too. It smelled like him, and it was soft and comfortable.

Stefano turned off the lights, climbed into bed with her, and pulled her body against his, spooning her. His lips were on her ear. "I hadn't meant to sleep with you like this yet, sweetheart. I can stay on top of the covers if you want, but after stroking your sexy body to orgasm, I'm thinking you don't mind if I hold you in the night."

She slid her hand along his forearm under her breasts and threaded her fingers with his. "This is where I want to be."

"Okay." He kissed her neck. "Sleep as long as you want. I'll be right here."

They'd napped off and on during the day, but Roselia was exhausted anyway. She didn't feel like she'd gotten a good night's sleep in eight months. She'd always had one eye open and been restless. In his arms, she could fully relax for the first time in her life.