13

There were so many words for what I was at the moment. Among them were; tired, sore, exhausted, hungry, more sore, bruised, a mess and then sore some more.

But the word that described best what I was right now – and this was just the word I could think of, I'm sure Webster's had a better suggestion – was traitor.

I stood under the warm soothing spray of my shower, trying to wash away all the emotions and guilt. I had woken up half-sleeping on Vince, half-sleeping on my bed. I didn't remember crawling up there after our Mr and Mrs Smith adventure, so I had to assume Vince had lifted me up there after I passed out in post-coital bliss.

I couldn't even remember how it happened. I was fighting him and next moment I was riding him? The hell?

It had been purely physical, nothing more. At least that was how I chose to rationalize it. We got caught in the heat of the moment – it happened. It was just a big mistake, one that wasn't going to repeat itself.

Yeah. Keep telling yourself that, maybe you'll stop thinking about his cock thrusting inside you from every possible angle.

"Jesus," I whispered, closing my eyes and just letting the water hit me as I got a flashback. I'd never been fucked like that in my life. That hard, that good... People used to use lame phrases like 'he was a machine' to describe a man whom they'd slept with and I'd never believed them. I'd always thought it was just something single girls told their friend to seem less lonely, when in truth that 'machine' had been their operated battery-driven device. But now...

Sighing, I carefully took the shower head down from the hook and held it against my sensitive parts. I would've called it 'my pussy' any other day, but today 'sensitive parts' were more fitting. I truly felt sensitive and sore, but in the best kind of way. I was going to be feeling this days from now...

I suddenly heard the bathroom door go, and through the fog of my shower stall, I saw him coming in. I instantly clenched my jaw and put the shower head up where it belonged as the stall opened and he stepped in. "I thought I told you to leave."

"You told me so many things last night," Vince replied, edging closer to me. The water hit his clawed and naked body and had me gulping heavily. I was still so sore, but damn it, my core started throbbing the minute I watched his hair flatten and saw those water droplets roll down his chiseled torso.

"Your eyes are still saying the opposite of what your mouth is," He said, bringing a hand up to cup my face. He was so close. "Just say the words, mia cara."

"I... I'm sore."

"I would be surprised if you weren't."

"Vince..." I said, putting a hand on his chest. I pushed. "Don't. We can't do this."

"I would say that's a little too late."

"Why?"

"Well, you see this thing we did last night—"

"No, why me?" I asked, staring up at him. I had to know, I didn't understand. "I'm sure Italy is stocked with gorgeous, long-legged women who'd love to learn your mother's secret recipe for Bolognese, so why did you pick me? A blonde-haired chick with a gun permit and literally no filter on her mouth."

He took a step closer and now pressed his body against mine, making me feel that fully erect monster of his pressing against my belly. "Because I don't want a pretty little woman to cook me food. I want a woman who can fend for herself and teach my mama how it's done."

I had to swallow hard. "But why me? Why someone who's your sworn enemy, someone who's fighting against your country? And I swear to God, if you say it's because you liked the chase—"

"It was never about the chase, Rya," He growled, leaning back some. "The fact that you just happened to be an enemy to my country was just bad fortune."

"Really?" I drawled. "So all that 'I can't wait to have you beneath me' bullshit was just sweet-talk to get me into bed?"

"And all your threats to kill me were just to make me chase you, wasn't it?"

"I... what?"

Vince leaned closer again, putting a hand on my hip and letting it trail up my side. "I kept coming back for more because this petite blonde woman kept threatening to kill me. You kept coming back because a big cocky man wanted you in his bed."

"We egged each other on." I said, only just realizing this now. He was right, all my threats... I knew the only way I'd see him again was if I had the opportunity to kill him. And the way he kept taunting me about getting me into his bed... that had done its part, too.

"Think back for a moment," Vince whispered, his lips now hovering millimeters above mine. "Have I ever tried to truly kill you? To even hurt you?"

I blinked. Shit. No, he hadn't. He had knocked me out in my apartment, but he could've done so much worse. He always did the bare minimum. When we had been fighting, he had had several opportunities to break something or even shoot me. He never did. Instead he tied me up and kissed me, just like he did in the motel and...

"Fuck," I whispered, but that was all I got to whisper before his lips descended on mine. Sucking in a breath, I felt as he lifted me up by my ass, gripping it tightly. I moaned and wrapped my arms around his neck, finding his wet roots and letting my fingers pull at them. The hot spray of the water heated us up and coated us, yet didn't succeed in getting us clean. Vince pushed me up against the shower stall, my back hitting the slippery glass, and just then, I felt his hot tip press at my entrance. It provoked a thought in my head.

"You didn't wear a condom yesterday," I pulled away from his lips.

"I pulled out, remember?"

"But I could still have gotten pregnant."

"No birth control?"

"They make me hormonal."

Vince drew back a little and frowned. "I probably shouldn't be fucking you in the shower then."

"Probably not. I'm still sore, anyway."

"You'll probably be walking with a limp the next few days."

"Shut up, Vincenzo."

He just chuckled and put me down again, my ass feeling bruised from his grip. "Let me clean you then."

"That's a no. Can I just finish up myself? Haven't you ever heard of privacy by the way?"

"I work for a government like you, so no."

Right, touché. "Still, can I please just finish up by myself?"

"No. Who says you'll be thorough? I should do it myself, make sure you don't miss a spot."

"Oh, please. What kind of man actually wants to stand in the shower and lather a woman up in soaps?"

"A man who worships every part of the female body, with or without his cock inside it," He replied and reached behind me to my soaps. He chose my coconut body-milk and opened the bottle.

I looked down at his erect member. "You're still hard as a diamond."

"Is that going to be a problem?"

I shrugged as he poured the soap into his hand. "Diamonds are a girl's best friend."

~~~

Getting dressed was a torturous thing, for him mostly, I had to assume. Watching me first slip on my thong, then my bra, hiding away two of his favorite body parts, it had to be like closing the candy store on a kid. When I continued to pull on my jeans and then tug on a tight camisole, a muscle in his jaw started working. Not to mention that bulge in his pants that now started straining against the fabric. Maybe it was torture for me, too.

"I can't see how this is going to work," I finally said to break the silence. He was buttoning up his shirt as well, hiding that chiseled body and that gorgeous tattoo that licked his skin. He could only button his shirt some, though; the few buttons that hadn't ripped off when I had torn it. "If our governments find out we've been doing the hanky-panky..."

"Best they don't find out then," Vince said. He picked up his suit jacket and buttoned it to hide his ruined shirt.

"They are bound to," I said, giving him a flat look. "If you could just fucking hand over that USB—"

"Rya, that's never going to happen."

"And we're never going to quit searching for it!" I shouted. We both stared each other down, the temperature suddenly dropping inside my living room. "For as long as you're hiding that USB, we'll be searching for it. And as amazing as last night was, I'm not prepared to give up my career over a brilliant fuck."

"Then it appears we're right back to where we started," Vince replied, straightening out. "That USB stays with me until I find a way to get it to Italia. I won't stop at nothing to make that happen."

God, why did I ever think this was going to pan out right? He was Italian and I was American. Neither of us were going to betray our country. If it came to our country's safety, we would always choose our country over the other person. That was why I in a nutshell never dated. My first and last commitment was to America.

"So be it," I said, picking up my gun, checking it for bullets, before stuffing it into the back of my pants. "I'll come after you, you know that, and eventually I will catch you. Maybe now that we've fucked, all this tension between us will be history."

"History is never done, tesoro," He said, looking at me with those dark eyes. "I'm sure we'll meet again, be it on a battlefield or on a bed."

I gritted my teeth. "Get out. Before I change my mind about not just taking you in now."

"You took me in last night. Repeatedly."

"Get out!"

He gave me one last look, then squared his jaw and nodded. "See you around, dolcezza."

"Catch you later."

And then he walked out of my apartment, leaving me burning with anger or arousal.

I really couldn't tell anymore.

• • •

I hate them blurred lines.

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