• Three gorgeous covers made by a gorgeous reader. After you're done checking them out, check out the song I added •

"What the Italian fuck."

Those were the first words out of my mouth when we pulled up to a mansion. Okay, mansion could be overdoing it a tad. It was just one of those houses that looked really rich with lots of garden and charm. It screamed Italy right from the foundation to the chimney, to the soft beige color and the orange roof.

"Siamo arrivati, signorina," The driver spoke to me in flat Italian.

"Mulțumesc," I replied in Romanian. When the driver just looked at me with confusion through the rearview mirror, I raised a brow. "Its not fun, is it?"

Instead of giving the chauffeur a chance to keep up, I just clicked myself out of my seatbelt, grabbed my bag and headed inside the giant house, using the code to the installed keypad that Vince had texted to me just after I left. Stepping inside the fancy-schmansy house, I looked around. From what I could tell in the dark, we had ourselves another luxury place. I wondered if this belonged to 'A.T.S' as well.

Through some doors I could see a big pool, one I was sure I was going to make good use of tomorrow. As for right now, all I wanted was a bath and then a dive into the covers of a soft bed. And that's exactly what I did.

I searched through the grand house, taking notice of all the fancy furniture as I went, before I found the master bedroom with a kingsized bed. There was an adjoining bathroom with a great, big shower stall, one I immediately jumped right into and used to scrub away the ten hours of sweat and other substances I had been smothered in since the flight. It was a blessing to finally feel clean.

Once done, I slipped into the breeziest nightgown I could find since Italy was a much warmer climate than I was used to sleeping in. Then, I finally landed on top of the soft bedsheets in the kingsized bed and groaned in bliss. "Sweet fucking mother of Italian baby Jesus."

I fell asleep almost instantly after making sure my gun was within arm's reach. I could hear cicadas cricking outside, lulling me into a peaceful sleep.

Peace. Something I hadn't had in a long time and doubted I would get much of in the close future.

At some point during the night, I felt the bed dip, and even in my half-sleeping state, I managed to sense a body curling up to mine, an arm slinging over my waist and pulling me closer. I felt a hardness against my butt, then a long, tired sigh close to my ear. Of course I knew who that sigh belonged to.

"What are you doing?" I mumbled, too tired to even open my eyes or voice a proper protest.

"In Italy we would call it ci stiamo coccolando," Vince's deep voice whispered in my ear. "In America... I believe you call it... spooning."

I gave weak grunt. "Well stop coccolandoing me. It's making me uncomfortable."

"It's making me very comfortable." He pressed his erection further against my ass.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore the way my lower abdomen tightened. "Vince..."

"Go back to sleep, dolcezza."

And motherfucker, I did.

~~~

I woke up when something tickled me between my legs. Something... something warm... and wet... and—

"Oh, Jesus!" I opened my eyes with a jolt and fisted the sheets when I felt a warm, wet and very hungry mouth latch onto my pussy beneath the covers. My eyes rolled back into my head as I felt Vince lick me up my folds, parting them to gain more access. "Oh fuck, Vince!"

I heard a mild chuckle that vibrated up inside my core. "Buon giorno, mia bella. Hai dormito bene?"

"Just what the actual fuck are you doing?" I breathed when I felt him push two fingers inside me, making my arch my back and moan out loudly again. "Ah, Vince...!"

He slid them in and out of me as his tongue and mouth worked my clit, taking small intervals to speak. "Just... giving you... an Italian... good morning."

"Fuck," I mewled and curled my toes when he hit my sweet spot with his fingers. "Good morning, my ass—no, don't! I didn't mean to—Vince!"

I felt him press a hot kiss to the part of my butt that met my pussy, the part that was available to him in my current position. It caused me to jolt and him to chuckle.

I ripped the covers away from us and exposed him to me, found him nestled comfortably between my legs with my nightgown pushed up to my stomach. My panties were gone. Did he manage to do all that while I was asleep? I didn't know whether to be horrified at his liberties, or horrified I'd slept right through it.

He gave me a sexy little smile as he glanced up at me, his short dark hair rumpled, but looking amazing as always. His mouth was covering my pussy and his fingers were knuckle-deep inside me, pumping in and out. I swore to God, that man had a healthy sexdrive. Buon giorno, alright.

"Shit!" I cried and threw my head back when he kept working, flicking and teasing my labia. "Oh, God... Vince!"

I came apart with force and it surprised the hell out of me. Shooting stars and magical rainbows had me singing a very blasphemous song to the cicadas who still chirped outside, now getting rudely interrupted by my outburst. Still, I couldn't seem to stop, not when Vince swooped up and came face to face with me, angling his morning wood at my sopping pussy.

"Condom," I managed to pant out through the fading remains of my ōrgasm.

Cursing something in Italian, Vince paused and reached for the bedside table, pulling the drawer open before fishing out a Trojan. I stared at him in shock.

"How did you know there were going to be condoms in there?"

Instead of replying, he sat back on his knees, tore the foil packet open and sheathed himself, even if he seemed annoyed to be doing so. Something told me dear Vincenzo didn't like gloves.

Next moment he was back down on me, grabbing the back of my right knee and balling my leg up to my chest. He entered me in one hard thrust that had me crying out and forgetting completely that I was waiting for an answer. As he pulled out and thrust back inside again, his crown hit my cervix and I swore he nearly blinded me with pleasure.

He then lowly whispered in my ear while I moaned loudly and tried to find the usage of my limbs; "Like the saying goes, dolcezza; when in Rome, do as the Romans."

"We're not... in Rome."

"Close enough."

He thrust inside me again, making my cry out and claw my nails down his already bruised back. He groaned but didn't object. Instead his mouth found mine and devoured it, clashing his tongue and lips against mine. Our bodies began sweating and melting together, the friction of our sexes meeting nearly setting us on fire. I curled my leg around his waist, the heel of my foot digging into his ass, begging him to go faster, but Vince took it easy.

"Why not?" I complained, expecting him to know what the hell I was thinking about.

"Because I want you slowly today," He voiced back, reading my mind anyways. "Slow... sweet... and hot."

Mission accomplished, I thought. Well, since he was determined to keep it slow, I might as well discuss a few things with him. "How did things go... at AISE?"

He nibbled down my throat to my shoulder, stroking my thigh softly as he rocked in and out of me. "Good. Caleb and my bosses are working up a plan."

"When will we... know more?"

"When they contact me."

"Did they say anything to you while you were ther—"

"Christ, will you stop talking work to me when I'm trying to make love to you?"

I stiffened up completely. "Is that what you're trying to do?"

Shit almighty. Red flag. Major red flag. Sound the alarms.

He cursed under his breath when I begun pushing him off. "Merda, I didn't mean it like that—Rya, wait—"

Too late. I pushed him off me so he flopped down on the bed next to me. I quickly shot up and grabbed my morning robe from my bag, donning it. "I'm taking a shower. Don't follow me."

"Rya—"

I slammed the door and locked it, then stepped inside the shower and turned on the cold spray.

Fuck. He wanted to make love to me? Just what the hell did he think this was? We were just fucking around and we were good at it, but now he was throwing about the word love and the making of it? "Jesus Christ."

I knew I shouldn't have let my guard. What a fucking stupid move. Love weakened you. Love made you vulnerable. Love left you exposed and made you a target. Love did not agree with me.

~~~

About half an hour later, I was dressed in a comfortable pair of shorts and a loose top, something that didn't cling to my body in the heat that was the whole of Italy. Or maybe it was just the lingering tension between me and Vince after I pulled the dramatic one and left him hanging in the air. Literally.

I had decided to do the mature thing and act like it didn't happen, and go make myself some breakfast since only one of us got some this morning. I was halfway through frying myself some eggs when I heard him come in, his footsteps light on the stone floor. I prepared myself for the uncomfortable conversation that would follow.

"I did not mean 'making love' as in I was fucking in love," Came his blunt approach. I had noticed ever since we had arrived in Italy, his Italian drawl had gotten stronger. The motherland could probably do that to you, but what that did to my panties wasn't healthy. "So stop acting like a stronza and face me instead of hiding and/or avoiding me."

I hadn't exactly avoided him, I had just taken strategic trips throughout the house that ensured I didn't run into him.

Because that's so not the same thing.

Straightening my stance, I kept my back to him as I fried my eggs. "Fine. Call it what you want. But we are not falling in love."

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Great, that means we can focus on—RAT!" I nearly jumped a mile and reached for my glock when I saw something furry saunter across the floor and then smooth up against Vince's leg.

Vince calmly bent down and picked up what I quickly found was a brown cat with small, dark-brown spots, who was now purring content in his arms as he stroked it. "Hello, Marley. I've missed you, too."

"Why is there a cat in the safe house?" I snapped in a more than infuriated voice. I did not like cats.

"This is Marley," Vince smiled and stroked the cat's coat of fur. "And this is my house, dolcezza."

Okay. I didn't know what to process first; the fact that I had been staying in his house, probably sleeping in his fucking bed, or the fact that he had a cat, as in, he was a cat person. I had a goldfish.

I had let a cat-lover be alone with Bob.

"Oh, my God. Tell me you're just babysitting that creature."

"I'm not," He replied, still stroking the cat with affection. He lifted his eyes and looked up at me, humor written all across his face, "I've had him since he was a kitten."

I couldn't believe this. A cat person. He had a cat and I had a fish. Could we be bigger opposites?

"I found it funny how your fish is named Bob and my cat is named Marley. Bob Marley," He chuckled. "Quite a pair, huh?"

"No," I said and held up my spatula at him. "You don't get to come here and tell me what an awesome dynamic duo we are when you've been a cat person all along."

"I'm not a cat person, I'm an animal lover. Big difference. And is it really such a big surprise that like pussycats?"

I ignored his last comment all the way to hell. "Call it whatever you want, but you still own a cat. That makes you a cat person in my world."

"I also own a bottle of Tangaray gin and have a champagne bucket. Does that make me an alcoholic?"

I opened my mouth, but then decided not to comment on that. It would only add fuel to the fire. Instead I turned around, turned off the stove, dished my eggs onto a plate and then grabbed a fork and left, sending a mean glare to the cat before I did. Obviously I didn't actually hate the cat, I just knew when I saw a threat to Bob.

And then of course there was the kitty-cat's owner.

On my way out, I heard Vince murmur something in Italian, talking to his furball. I didn't speak Italian, but damn it if I knew he was talking about me. I would have if Bob had been here. Talked about Vince, that is. Where was my only friend when I needed him?

Swimming circles around himself back in America, I silently thought as I walked out onto the patio to eat my breakfast. Damn, I missed my only friend.

~~~

Things had been taking so long that after cleaning my guns, then cleaning my cleaning gear, then cleaning myself after all the cleaning, I was running out of things to do. The big pool outside which now proudly screamed 'I'm owned by Vince' was begging me to jump in and swim a few laps, but pride made me stay inside.

What is it with you and your pride? My voice of reason asked me. Why can't you fucking loosen up? Do whatever the hell you want. Don't give a damn.

Damn straight.

Alright. That voice was right; I had been a little uptight and snippy lately. It was time to let it go a little. Let my hair down—not literally, because it was way too hot to do that—and live a little.

I was in Italy, after all.

Changing into my bikini (you can't judge a girl for packing a bikini even if she was on a mission; one could always hope), I grabbed a towel from the bathroom and went out the patio doors. The blue pool looked so inviting, I couldn't wait. The sun had probably warmed it up nicely, not too cold, but hopefully not too warm either. This was going to be great.

Dropping the towel, I jumped in, did one elegant motherfucking cannonball right in the pool and felt as the water embraced me, chilled through me as my body hit the surface and dragged me under. It was amazing after a day of feeling constantly clammy inside the house. As I resurfaced again, I took a deep breath and wiped the water out of my face.

Oh, yeah. This was exactly what I needed.

I swam a few laps, then let myself float a little. Then swam another few laps. Finally, I decided to get up and let the sun do what it did best, and therefore grabbed my towel and laid it out on one of Vince's sun loungers. I released a big sigh and for once felt fully revived since getting here. Nothing like a little pool-and-sun to release tension.

After about one hour of sunbathing, a shadow slid over my body. Pinching my eye open, I saw Vince towering above me. "Enjoying yourself?"

I closed my eyes again and moodily replied, "You're blocking the sun."

"Get dressed, I'm taking you out."

"Excuse me?" I sat up when he started to walk away again as if I automatically agreed. "What if I don't want to go out?"

He stopped up by the patio door and glanced back at me. "We're in Italy, mia cara. Of course you want to go out."

And with that, he walked inside.

Fuck him.

But he had a point. I wouldn't mind exploring Italy a little, and since all we had to do was wait anyway...

And what was that thing you thought about earlier? Pulling the stick out of your ass and relaxing a bit?

"Well," I sighed to myself as I swung my legs over the edge of the lounger to get up. "Guess you're going out with Spaghetti."

• • •

Update at last. Good job, Oli.