Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“I used to,” I said as I walked with him. “But I was late to every appointment. I mean, literally every single one.”
He chuckled and walked with me inside. “You look so damn cute riding around on it, but I worry every time you head over here.”
“I’ll be fine, Constantine.”
“My driver can take you wherever you need to go.”
As ludicrous as it sounded, I knew it was a legitimate offer. “I’m okay.”
“Rocco is coming over for dinner. Bringing a friend. Is that okay?”
“Of course it is.” He didn’t need to ask my permission to have someone in his house. “Who’s the friend?”
He shrugged. “Could be anyone.”
“Is he coming to mass tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“You think he’s bringing this friend of his?”
“No,” he said as he shook his head. “Mass with the pope is more of a serious-relationship type of event.”
I loved hearing him describe us as serious. That he wasn’t afraid to show his cards, that he didn’t play games, that he just told me where he stood instead of making me have to guess. Most guys would try to keep it casual as long as possible before they were forced to slap on a label. Not Constantine . . . at least with me.
We made it to his bedroom.
“Find something to wear?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I pulled out the dress and jacket from my bag and hung them up in the closet.
He stared at it, cocked an eyebrow, and then looked at me. “That’s what you’re wearing?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“You look like a nun.”
“Well, it’s the pope. There’s a strict dress code in the Vatican.”
“Sure, but this dress goes to your ankles. And a jacket? It’s ninety degrees outside.”
“The dress doesn’t have sleeves—”
“You just need to cover your shoulders, not your whole arm.”
“Look, I spent a lot of time trying to find something appropriate, so this is what I’m wearing. Deal with it.”
He smirked. “Yes, Sister.”
I gave him a playful smack on the arm.
“Never fucked a nun before . . . that’s a first.”
“Oh, shut up,” I said as I smacked him again, trying not to laugh.
“Well, to make up for it, I want you to dress slutty tonight. Lots of ass and boobage.”
“You want my tits hanging out in front of your friend?”
“Yep. I’m proud of those tits.”
I rolled my eyes, but there was something endearing about what he said. “Would you say Rocco is your best friend?”
“No.”
“He’s not?” I asked in surprise. “Then what is he?”
“What do you mean, what is he? He’s Rocco.”
“Okay . . . is he your closest friend?”
“What does it matter?” he asked.
“It doesn’t. But I think he’s your best friend, but you won’t say he’s your best friend for some reason.”
“Because guys don’t talk like that, sweetheart.”
“Since when have you been most guys?” I asked.
He pulled out his phone when he got a text. “He’s downstairs. The girl’s name is Becca.”
“All right, let me get changed.” I hung up the rest of my stuff in his closet and found a little black dress that had a little lining over the chest to hide my nipples so I wouldn’t have to wear a bra. The dress went up higher on one side than the other, showing more of my right thigh than my left. I slipped on my black heels to go with it, and I would ask Constantine to carry me downstairs so my feet wouldn’t kill me fifteen minutes into the night.
When I was finished getting ready, he stared at me. Stared at me hard. “Can’t wait to fuck you in the ass, sweetheart.”
I heard what he said but didn’t take in a word of it. “Excuse me . . . what?”
That smug smirk moved over his lips. “You heard me.”
We had dinner outside on his terrace, farther into the yard and away from the main part of the villa, hidden from the world in a perfectly manicured garden. The light left the sky, but the outdoor lighting made it plenty bright.
We had dinner and wine, and Rocco and Constantine did most of the talking. Becca was quiet, but she was touchy-feely with Rocco, her hand either on his arm or on his thigh under the table. I could tell by the way she leaned into him.
The subject of mass came up. “You should see the dress Aurelia wants to wear tomorrow,” Constantine said. “She looks like a fucking nun.”
I shook my head. “It’s the fucking pope. You’re supposed to look like a nun.”
Rocco gave a chuckle. “I look forward to seeing it tomorrow.”
“Where’s the restroom?” Becca asked.
Constantine put his fingers in his mouth and gave a quick whistle. One of the staff came over like she knew what that whistle meant. “Could you escort Becca to the bathroom? It’s too complicated for directions.”
Becca left with the staff member, and then it was just the three of us.