Cruel Summer - Page 34

CHAPTER TEN: WINTER

IthinkInearly go into cardiac arrest when my eyes land on Giovanni.

Just when I was starting to completely heal up from being kidnapped.

I blink, thinking my eyes are deceiving me, but no, Giovanni Costa has jeans on. I take in the tight fitted compression shirt that melds to his chest and I have to blink again.

Well, fuck.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man dressed so comfortably. He’s always wearing those neat suits that are tailored just right for him.

I thought he’d looked striking in those, but this is something different.

Like if I didn’t have common sense, I would have already dropped my panties right as his feet.

Fuck.

“Could you stop eye fucking my brother long enough for us to go?” Maximo’s voice drifts into the room and I look up to see him striding down the hall.

He’s dressed even more casually than his brother, in a pair of sweats and a tank top. Unlike Giovanni, I’ve seen him dress casually before, but my eyes still can’t help but to linger on the muscles that are left exposed by the muscle shirt. And the gray sweatpants that hang off of his hips have my mouth watering.

He pauses in front of me, raising a brow and yeah, those sweats don’t do a damn thing to hide the hardening of his cock.

Shit.

I take a step back, rubbing my throat as my face heats up.

“Where… where are we going?” I ask in confusion. I assumed when I was told that we were going somewhere that it would be some kind of family business, but with them dressed like this…

I look down at my own causal blue and white striped romper. It’s comfy and I hadn’t thought much of it, considering the outfits that have been picked out for me since Summer hit are usually of this style.

“A barbeque,” is all Giovanni says before he’s striding out of the front door. I allow my eyes to fall to his jean covered ass.

“What a naughty little mouse you’re being today,” Maximo says with a chuckle as he presses in behind me. I haven’t seen him much since I was kidnapped, but the few times I have made one thing clear: that day had been a fluke. The old, mischievous Maximo had returned, leaving the softer one nothing but a figment of my imagination.

His warm breath ghosts over the side of my neck and a shiver runs down my spine.

He chuckles.

“Don’t you worry, mouse, I’ll make sure I set aside some time to strip you out of this little number.” His finger slides under the strap of my romper, my skin tingling under the touch.

He moves the strap down until it’s falling off of my shoulder and a shiver moves through me when his lips touch the vacated spot.

I suck in a deep breath, my heart going wild.

I lean into the touch, but he pulls away, letting out a dark chuckle that only embarrasses me, sending heat flooding through my cheeks.

He shuffles past me, leaving me staring at his back as he follows his brother out the front door. I take a deep breath, telling myself to settle the fuck down.

But I can’t ignore the truth that’s staring me right in the face. Maximo Costa does unhealthy, dangerous things to my body.

Where I used to cringe at his touch, run away from it, I now run towards it, craving it in a way that makes me sick.

I brush my hand over my lips, allowing my heavy breaths to dance over my fingertips before closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

I feel like I’m doing a bunch of that lately, deep breathing to try to get myself and my thoughts under control, and yet I still feel so damn off balance.

So confused.

Tags: Quirah Casey Erotic
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