Chapter 3

3

LUCA

I try to retreat behind the familiar wall of denial, but I fail.

I lost control last night, acted like a maniac, like a man with the sexual appetite of a caveman.

See, living with my dad kept me on my toes. I didn't know what the next day would bring. Would we need to move to another city, another state, another country? Should I constantly check behind me and see if I'd been followed by his creditors? Where would we live next? A dump, under the bridge, or a five-star hotel?

It all meant that growing up with him, my constant companions were worry and anxiety. I would lay awake in bed for hours, overthinking, going over the worst-case scenarios, adding more fuel to the fire.

The cages were hidden. They were buried beneath my skin, but they might as well have been real prison for the way they kept my mind trapped.

When I was recruited as an assassin and had to train for five years, it kept the demons at bay. I was so spent at night that I would sleep soundly five seconds after hitting the bed. I didn't have time to think or spend countless hours worrying.

Last night with Lila changed all that. Changed me—in what ways, I still haven't figured out. Retreating into an unreachable chamber in my mind was a mechanism I used when goons knocked on our door in the middle of the night or when foot soldiers blocked my way home to force me to cough up money I didn't have.

Ignoring things became such a huge part of my life that I'm sorely tempted to do the same thing with this rising tide of emotion for Lila.

When I first laid eyes on her, I was fully convinced it was nothing more than physical attraction. She's gorgeous, and I'm well beneath her. Her beauty and smile blasted heat straight through me, and it was either fight it or let the fire consume me.

I let myself burn when I caved to her.

And now, images, possible scenarios, and wild thoughts shuffle through my mind.

The men from last night.

Bad, bad men who'll stop at nothing to get what they want.

Men with guns. Men with knives. Men with every torture device ever invented. Men who know how to make others scream and beg for mercy. Men who won't kill because they prefer drawing out pain.

Lila in pain.

Lila hurt.

Lila crying.

Lila's face full of fear, just like last night.

They want the money owed to them, but the woman who lives here will do just as well.

If they're pros, they'll have Lila's information—where she works, what route she takes, where she shops, where she goes on weekends.

If they can't track my father, they'll settle for the next best thing—his stepdaughter.

They won't just take things from the mansion because where's the fun in that? Then they'll have to ? —

Fucking stop!

Just thinking of Lila hurt at the hands of these imbeciles is enough to make me sick to my stomach. No, I won't let that happen. I was nonchalant when I learned of their threats to my father, but Lila is a different matter altogether.

She's innocent, and while my moral compass has never truly pointed north, I am always on the side of innocents. I don't have a high ground to speak of because of what I do, but I never raise a hand or draw blood from innocents. My missions always involve men of questionable character, men with no qualms about hurting and exploiting the poor, men who enjoy others' pain, and men whose existence continues to bring misery to others.

Lila doesn't deserve to be dragged into my father's world. She doesn't deserve my filth. She doesn't deserve to be touched by this beast.

Yet I did.

And now, I am completely hers. Whether she likes it or not.

My handler's place isn't so bad. A bit smaller than Dad's but still pretty extravagant.

After last night's scare, I managed to convince Lila to trade one swanky neighborhood for another. I shouldn't be surprised, though. I've made enough money to retire and live in luxury for ten lifetimes, so clearly, my handler will have so much more than that.

Too bad I never planned on settling anywhere, so I wasn't too excited to buy a house.

Things have changed overnight.

As Lila explores one room and another, I follow her closely behind, part of me feeling a longing deep in my bones—to come home to her. Maybe even our future kids. Of her waiting up for me with a kiss and … shit, and maybe love in her gaze.

It's too soon, I know, and I've never been the impulsive type.

"I like it here," she declares, spinning on her heel and twining both hands behind her back. "It's so nice I might just forget there are men hunting me."

She tries to smile, but it falters, and it fucking guts me. I hate that she now has to live in fear of them coming for her. I hate that she's going to be looking over her shoulder.

I need to do something about that. And soon.

"I'll take care of them for you."

"Just like you took care of me last night?" The side of her mouth lifts, and I'm starting to get used to her teasing me at all hours.

I sigh. "Listen, you can't work this week, all right? You need to go on sick leave until I?—"

She rushes to me and wraps her arms around my waist, leaning her cheek on my chest. The gesture has me feeling all sorts of things. As someone who grew up with zero affection from others, this is unfamiliar territory to me.

I don't dislike it.

In fact, this seemingly innocent way of touching shoots a current through me, and the realization that this young woman just blew through my walls with minimal effort hits me with full force.

Without even thinking about it, I hug her back and pull her closer to me, rubbing my cheek against her hair, inhaling her fresh, clean scent. "You think you can get away with anything just by hugging me?"

She buries her face in my chest and giggles.

"You're right," I mumble. "But you are not leaving this house until I take care of those bastards. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Look at you being submissive," I tease. "I think I like this version of you better."

She rears back and smacks my chest. "Don't get used to it."

Laughter rumbles from me, and the sound surprises us both. I don't remember the last time I laughed heartily, and the sound is foreign to me.

Lila beams at me like I just handed her the sun. "Am I allowed to use anything here? Like the pool?"

"Yeah, sure. You brought a bikini?"

"I did." I stare at her, incredulous, but she props both hands on her hips and tilts her head to the side. "What's with that look?"

"I don't know. If I'm running for my life, the last thing I'd want to pack is swimwear."

She tries to smack me again, but this time, I catch her hand and intertwine her fingers with mine. "I don't have a lot of clothes, Luca. I just thought, you know, in case there's a pool." She sweeps her arms behind her. "And lo and behold, there is."

"You like swimming."

"I do!" Lila's face lights up, and she gets this dreamy look. "I used to compete, and I was pretty good at it until…"

Her smile fades, replaced by the downward curl of her lips.

"Until what?" I prod, lifting her face to me.

"Until Mom pointed out the cellulite in my thighs." Her voice is soft, almost fragile. "She laughingly asked how I was swimming for hours and still looked the way I did." Lila gives me a soft smile. "I've always had big thighs, even when I exercised and trained hard."

"Wow, what an asshole comment." The words are out before I realize, and I release a deep breath. "Sorry."

"Are you?"

"Not really, no. Your mom's … not nice. You're her daughter. She shouldn't say those things to you."

"I know. Anyway!" Lila regains her spirit and smiles again, and it's at that moment when I'm convinced I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure she's happy all the time. "I need to try the pool."

"By all means."

"You don't want to swim?"

"I'll look out for you."

She blows out a raspberry. "Then watch."

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I take it out. It's my handler. I called in a couple of favors earlier, and he's the first to get back to me. It won't be long before I have enough information on those men.

I sit on the lounger, texting and sending out emails, feeling the familiar rush of an upcoming mission. Multi-tasking has always been a strength of mine, so while I'm a hundred percent locked in on finding those assholes, I also continue to sneak glances at Lila from the corner of my eye.

And by God, what a vision.

She cuts through the water with effortless grace, her movements fluid, each stroke smooth and unhurried.

Lila isn't just a good swimmer, but she also genuinely enjoys it. She's in her element, at ease, and it shows. Her hair trails behind her, and it's like fire on the water.

Finally, she surfaces, taking a deep breath, and her beautiful face breaks into a smile.

It's good that last night's attack hasn't dimmed her spirit. If anything, that's going to cut deeper. I like her fire, how quickly she adapts to things beyond her control, and how she tries to make the most out of everything.

Unlike me, Lila is an open book. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and her emotions are clearly written on her face.

No pretense.

No lies.

Just her.

Everything I've learned in the past twenty-four hours only draws me to her. She needs me to protect her, and since meeting her, I'm well aware that my priorities have changed.

In the space of a few hours, she has become the center of my universe.

I don't know how or why, but my gut has never led me astray, and right now, it's telling me that there's only one place where I belong, and it's beside her.

If I heard someone else say this—turning his life around for a woman—I would've scoffed. But they haven't met Lila. They haven't seen her face darken with desire or turn beet red after coming.

They haven't seen her smile or laugh.

"You should really lay off the scowling. You're gonna get premature wrinkles." Lila props her arms on the edge of the pool and rests her chin on them.

"I'm not scowling." I wipe any expression on my face and keep it neutral.

"Oh? Could've fooled me." She smiles and pulls herself out of the pool, water cascading down her body, glistening in the morning sun.

Lila dries herself with a fluffy white towel she found in one of the bathrooms. She's not intentionally attempting to seduce me, not right now, but watching her do something as mundane as this has heat coursing through me.

She notices me noticing and casts a sideways look. "I know my body is far from sexy."

My eyes snap to her face as she nibbles on her bottom lip. She's no longer looking at me. Instead, she digs her toe into the tiled deck and lowers her gaze. "What do you mean, Lila? You're fucking beautiful and hot. I'm a lot of things, but I'm not blind."

A small, doubtful smile tugs on the corner of her lips. "Okay, sure." Her tone is light but has a hint of something deeper, something that makes my chest constrict.

She doesn't believe me.

I stand to my full height and amble to her. She has to tilt her head back to look at me.

In what world does she not think of herself as hot? In another life, another dimension, another version of me, I will still feel this gut punch each time I look at her.

Part of my caveman brain is still in disbelief that she allowed me to kiss her, touch her, be inside her.

But for some unknowable reason, she thinks less of herself.

No, this will not do. She needs to believe that I'm telling the truth. She needs to feel it.

"Lie down, Lila." I roll my sleeves to my elbow, my gaze not leaving hers.

She furrows her forehead. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

A lot of attitude for someone who stands at barely 5'5. "I won't ask you twice."

"Or what?" Instead of a challenge, her pupils are blown wide with … the lust mirroring my own. "What are you gonna do if I say no?"

"No is no for me, Lila. Say no, and I will leave you alone." I sweep my gaze all over her body. "I am not a man who forces himself on women."

The stubborn glint in her eyes, the slight tilt of her chin, her tongue peeking from the corner of her mouth—she wants to obey but hates looking like she's not in control.

So, I concede.

With a slight nod, I raise both palms. "Will you let me touch you?"

"Why?" The question is just formality. She knows why. We both sense the desire hanging as thick as a fog above us.

"Because I want to prove how much you affect me." I take one step closer to her, making sure my hands are behind me. "You're fucking beautiful and sexy, but you don't believe me. So you're leaving me with no choice but to show you just how much I mean it."

Despite the flare in her eyes, her bottom lip trembles. "Men aren't exactly lining up at my door."

"Because they're either blind or fools or both." I let my gaze linger on her mouth. "And I'm glad they're stupid enough because I don't want to waste my precious time slitting the throats of any man who dares to touch you."

Lila chuckles softly and rubs away a strand of wet hair on her temple. "You won't do that for me."

"Won't I? You sure about that?"

"Luca…"

"Please lie down, Lila. Let me worship you in the best way I know how."

She lets out a shaky breath and sits on the wooden chaise lounge chair, and I don't miss the way she rubs her thighs together. I'll bet all my money in the bank she's wet and ready for me, and I haven't even touched her.

"Be a good girl and lie on your stomach, baby."

Lila stops for a fraction of a second before she makes a decision and does what I tell her. She lies with her head resting on folded arms, her ass partly covered by the bikini bottom.

I sit on my haunches to her side, my hand grazing the soft skin of her calf and the back of her thigh and stopping just under the cheek of one ass.

Fuck. She's perfect.

With deliberate slowness, I skim her ass with my hand, pulling on the thin string on one side, then the other. Her breathing becomes uneven, and blood pumps wildly in my temples.

We're in an exclusive neighborhood with barely any traffic noise, but the birds chirping and the water running on the nearby fountain become nothing but background noise.

I tug on her bikini and drop it to the floor, fully exposing her ass to me. I never thought of myself as an ass type of guy before, but I just want to bury my face between these globes and suffocate.

Lila draws in a quick breath as I dip a finger in between her folds, running from her pussy down to her clit. She's drenched, instinctively rolling her hips to rub her sensitive button against my finger.

I want to say something dirty, but words get stuck in my throat.

"I-inside m-me, Luca. Put it inside me," she gasps.

"My finger? What about my cock, Lila?"

"W-whatever," she stutters. "W-whichever. I-I need s-something. Please."

The heel of my palm rests on her ass, and I slide my middle finger inside her.

"Oh, God. Yes." Lila continues moving her hips and even slips a hand under her to tease her clit.

I slide a second finger, and she lets out a long moan, which I'm sure the neighbors fifty meters away have already heard by now.

Her hips move faster, and while I want to draw this out, I also need to be inside her for her second orgasm. Twisting my wrist, I flutter my fingers against her G-spot, my chest bursting with pride when her whole body stiffens before she trembles and whimpers. "F-fuck. Fuck, Luca."

She continues to suction around me, but I pull out my hand and sit on the lounger beside hers.

Lila flits her glassy gaze to me, and I smirk, pointing to my lap and cupping my rigid cock. "Ride me, Lila."

"You don't tell me what to do." The words come out breathy, but she stands and walks to me, her bottom half naked and the bikini top slightly askew and exposing one nipple.

I unbutton my pants and tug it down with my boxers to free my cock, fisting and pumping it while looking at Lila positioning herself above me.

She grips my shoulders as she lowers herself to me, impaling herself on my rod and then folding her legs on the lounger, trapping my legs between hers.

"You don't get to boss me around, Luca." Lila punctuates her sentence by lifting herself and then sitting back down on me.

I don't have a response to her sass. I can't even form a coherent sentence because she feels too good, too tight, too sweet.

She does this thing where she grinds on me but also squeezes her inner walls simultaneously, and I'm about to lose my mind. I try to grab her thighs, but she swats my hands away, lifting my arms and pinning them above me.

Lila doesn't even have half my strength, but I let her overpower me, doing nothing even though every part of me screams to slam my hips upward.

My lower belly tightens, my orgasm sneaking up on me, and I growl, "Lila, stop. I'm about to come."

Only, that spurs her into going faster. She bounces on my lap, rotating her hips and pushing her tits to my face. I jerk my hand down to push her bikini top to the side and squeeze one tit, sucking on the nipple of the other.

I come hard—harder than I ever had in my entire life. I'm only halfway to filling her with come when she tightens her arms around my neck and arches her back, moaning, "Oh, fuck. Luca!"

We both ride the wave until she slumps on me, her limbs boneless. We're spent and sated, and it's only morning.

With a kiss on her temple, I smile and close my eyes. "You wreck me, Lila."

"Is that a bad thing?" she whispers.

I think about it for a minute and shake my head. "No. No, I don't think so."