I walked over and tried to kiss him, but he turned away, shaking his head. I swallowed the bitter pill of my disappointment and shame and nodded. Wiping myself down quickly, I fixed my panties and suit, leaving the tie off. Fuck it. I didn't need it. It seemed I didn't need a lot of things in life. "Fine. Let's go."
Chapter 9
Tomasso
I felt like the world's biggest shithead the next day after waking up in bed alone. After fucking Luisa, I'd been cold, my fears and anxieties taking over when I should have been focused on the moment instead. In the early morning hours afterward, as Luisa decided to stay in the car while I got my last pickup and brought her home, I was able to reflect on the change in her voice and what happened. Sure, it started with anger, but there was a hint of something else at the end which scared me even more. She hadn't been bitchy, but instead tender and open, showing me something I hadn't seen in her before. It scared me. It scared me because I felt the same way, and I wasn't sure if I was able to open myself up the same way.
I found her at the breakfast table, even though it was nearly eleven in the morning, sipping at a coffee. She'd put on jeans and a t-shirt, and I had to admit, she looked amazing. Her hair glowed golden in the near midday sun, and I had to smile as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. I must have spanked her harder than I had thought the night before. "Good morning."
"If you say so," Luisa said, pointedly ignoring me with her eyes.
I sighed and got my own cup of coffee, glad I had the rest of the day off. I didn't need anymore headaches or concerns today. I sat down across the table from her and took a sip. "Luisa, about last night . . .”
“There’s nothing to say,” she replied, finishing her coffee. She set the cup down and for the first time looked over at me, her dark eyes flashing with anger and hurt. "You had your fun—you broke me down. You won our little sex battle, and you got your prize, while I just have a sore ass. If you don’t mind, I’m going to go shopping. I need some fresh clothes for the rest of my stay. I didn't pack to be in America this long."
Getting up without another word, she put her cup in the sink. "Luisa . . .” I tried, and she held her hand up, silencing me and storming off. I watched her go and gulped down the rest of my coffee, putting the cup on the counter and hurrying after her. I watched as she grabbed a set of keys from the pegboard next to the staff entrance, ignoring me as she grabbed her purse and walked out the side door of the mansion. I rushed after her, grabbing her arm. "What are you doing?"
"Leave me alone," she hissed. “Last night was a moment of weakness, but if you touch me again, I’ll break your fucking wrist."
Pulling away, she jumped in the Fiat that she had the keys for and started the engine, nearly running over my foot as she pulled out, spraying me with crushed gravel. Patting my pockets, I was glad that my college habit of grabbing my keys and wallet were paying off, and I ran to my car, jumping in and following her.
I realized, too late, that I'd left my cellphone in my room, and cursed. Still, I couldn’t just let her go off on her own, so I followed her, making sure she didn't do anything too stupid. I didn't want to cause a scene, so I just stayed behind her, making sure she stayed in sight, and let her cool down. Maybe after she'd cooled down, I'd be able to talk to her, and maybe it was time for some honesty between us.
As I drove, I thought about how I should have done things differently the night before. I wanted to tell her the truth, that I was interested in her beyond just my want to fuck her. Sure, she was bitchy, and she had pride that came from a family heritage and her own hard work, but there was another side to her, one that spoke to me in a way that a woman hadn't in a very long time. It was in the way she challenged me—she was a strong woman, and it drew me to her. I wanted to say it, but fear overtook me, and I took the easy way out. For that, I branded myself a coward and a total shit.
Distracted, I didn't notice the black Tahoe that pulled up alongside until it was already next to me. I looked over and saw the driver looking at me like he knew me for a moment before stepping down on his accelerator, surging ahead. I watched as he pulled up next to Luisa's Fiat, paralleling it for a while. I wondered. That face caught in my mind for some reason—until it came to me.
The driver's face had a scar. It was the man we’d been looking for.
I stepped on my accelerator when suddenly, the Tahoe jerked to the right, clipping Luisa's car. Jammed to the side, she kept her wits about her, not losing control as she went with the attack and curved into the bike lane. Her tires skidded along the curb, her car getting crunched until she came to a smaller curb, where her right two wheels went up on the sidewalk. It was a temporary reprieve at best, as I could see ahead street-side parking and trees that were planted in gaps of the sidewalk. I had to act fast.