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I just want to rekindle that spark that Zane and I had from the moment we first kissed. I want to be reminded of the girl I used to love being and Zane is the only key to that.

“I like the silent submission,” he muses with amusement and slips his hand away from my hair, tracing it up my back as he stands behind me, rock hard and ready to make him his victim.

Long fingers curl around my hips, digging in one by one with a preparing grip, and I have no time to take an inhale and wait as Zane slips his length into my hot core, the engorgement so fulfilling I gasp, my tight pussy reacting immediately. Apparently, he was keeping it calm for the first penetration because as he withdraws and I mew in displeasure, his second thrust is harsh and unforgiving.  He drives into me with relentless power, over and over again with raw, unbridled passion. This is Zane claiming me. As his hands grip onto my hips with bruising force, I feel him dig his fingers in, not caring about the marks it’ll leave behind. The touch burns, but it’s pleasurable. It’s addictive and I feel claimed. I feel owned. I feel renewed. I feel as if I’m right where I’m meant to be.

I bury my face into the sheets; my hands claw at them as he pounds into me with relentless stamina. I feel my body preparing to burst into flames, but Zane doesn’t seem to find that a concern as he thrusts into me with command and force. If this is the reminder he wanted to have, my body won’t ever forget it especially as I feel the pit of my stomach begin to clench and my eyes roll closed.

As I come, and I feel my legs begin to shake, and it’s Zane who holds on tighter, ramming me full with his length and keeping from collapsing. Even as I explode and I smother my scream with the sheets, it’s Zane who keeps driving in and out of me, doing as I so wish. It isn’t until he stills to come, his grip constructing that I’m able to recapture some oxygen into my lungs. Even then I’m not left with much time as Zane withdraws from me only to pick me up and turn me over. I move onto the bed more, my back against the mattress. Zane soon follows, grabbing my legs and forcing them up. I’m powerless as he rests my ankles by his shoulders and places his hands either side of my waist on the bed.

I can see this small, sanctimonious smirk on his face, but my irritation over it disperses as he, once again, penetrates me whole. This time he’s slow with his pace. He doesn’t demand an orgasm this time, he rocks in and out of me, allowing me to buck my hips in unison and join the pace. His eyes fall on me, heavy and sultry, and I wish for anything to kiss him. This time the build up to my orgasm is slow and drawn out, but as I feel the low burst begin, I react the same. My eyes flutter closed before I gasp and stutter. Zane follows quicker this time and on his come down, releases me enough for him to start kissing over my entire body.

Soon we’re side by side, wrapped in one another, kissing as if the arousal is just beginning, not just ending. With careful moves, he makes me feel loved and wanted. That right now isn’t solely about staking claim. As he pulls me close to his body, I know I should withdraw from the embrace. I already let this escalate to sex. I told myself that I wouldn’t fall for his charm, but I just couldn’t help but want him. It doesn’t help that the way he is holding me is different. This could be the one thing that changes my every self-teaching and causes me to become unbidden. I came back a changed woman, colder, heartless, but while in his arms I feel like nothing has malformed at all. We’re completely entwined, his lips on my forehead, and I feel like I’m cured of all my misdeeds.

“I’ve missed you, sweetheart,” he suddenly whispers into the electrified air around us and moves so his forehead is pressed lightly to mine.

“I’ve missed you, too,” I murmur back without thought. “But we need to make boundaries.”

“Why?” he asks me, confused and a little irate.

“Because you have to prove yourself to my father before you get me. He made that stipulation very clear, and I want nothing to jeopardize what we’re both clearly feeling.” I remove myself from his hold enough to sit back and have this conversation. “We have to be clever over this. Security will know we’re back together, and if I know them, it’ll be news my father will know.”

“Fine,” he relents, and we just settle back down.

“Amelia! Zane!” my father’s brisk voice penetrates the air outside of the room. “Family meeting now.”

“And that’s why,” I state, giving an eye roll. “We’re off limits when it’s not safe,” I tell him, pushing up from the mattress so I can quickly dress. When I pull my panties up my legs, I look at Zane and realize he hasn’t even moved yet. “Don’t just hang around, Zane. If we’re not downstairs in two minutes, we’ll have a search and rescue to deal with. That’s a party I don’t want finding us while you’re buried balls deep in me.”

“My cock is very lonely right now, so nothing for them to catch,” he jokes trying to play it cool. He’s still yet to realize just how serious this life is.

“C’mon,” I tell him, grabbing my top from the floor by the bed. “I’m giving you a minute to get dressed.”

“You think it’ll take me that long to get dressed?” he comments, still remaining unmoved. “I just wanted to watch you for a moment.”

“Just get up!” I tell him, heading for the door in an attempt to be downstairs as hastily as I can manage. “We are still nothing to one another until I know it’s entirely safe.” I know it’s not what he wants to hear, but it’s the truth. “Until it’s safe, we play it cool. Now hurry up.”

I leave Zane behind, loathing the feel of damp clothing back on my body, but what else can I do? I left no time to change, so I’m left in the clothes I threw on before going down for breakfast, the same ones that got drenched when I allowed myself to cave to Zane’s whim. The only thing that’s different about me is the persona I’m now wearing. The broken girl I thought I was stuck being isn’t so broken and all it took was intimacy with a man I trust most.

However, when I walk into the room, I see the devil himself knows full well what Zane and I have been doing. It only worsens when Zane walks in behind.

“I hear you are getting overly friendly with my daughter, Maverick.” My father’s first remark is brought forward with derision and he’s unable to give Zane or me any eye contact as he shuffles papers to tidy his desk. Once done, he stands up, only now giving Zane some direct attention. “Is that part of our deal?”

“No, sir,” Zane answers, trying to hide all the nervous energy from his voice.

“Then why are you doing it?” he asks, giving Zane the deadliest of looks. “I didn’t realize I offered the opportunity to take advantage of my daughter when you were alone. I only asked her to give you a grand tour, not give you the chance to get into her panties. Men who take advantage of my daughter in such a way will feel the price of that, Maverick. So, do you want to think again before you defy me?”

“It’s all on me,” I interject quickly. I gulp, knowing that if I answer one person will be put out, but to offer Zane a chance, I take a steady breath. “It means nothing to me, Sal. I just wanted sex.” I look behind me as I speak. “Sorry, Zane. What you said was nice, but I just wanted some fun.”

I see the hurt on his face and my heart bleeds from the cracks his expression creates. I know I could tell the truth, but I worry what will happen if my father knew the intimacy we were caught in was sincere. I know how my father works the majority of the time and it’s neither pleasant nor yearned for, so I have to do damage control and make my father think I feel otherwise for Zane.

I turn back, square my shoulder, and focus myself on my father and ready for the finalization on fooling my father. “I got greedy, Sal. Zane had no input in this. I seduced him to get what I wanted and I got it. He’s still very much here to be a part of the Dio Lavoro. We are nothing to one another. I fooled him into thinking that I want him.”

“Do you love him?” my father questions, walking around his desk.

I steady myself – answer too soon and he’ll know it’s a lie, take too long and he’ll guess that, too. I shake my head before I say, “No. He broke my heart twice; I won’t put myself out there for a third time. I just needed something to lessen the tension.”

“Kind of like your own initiation?” my father asks, sitting on the edge of his desk.

“Yes, exactly that, I guess. I wanted him to feel what it felt like when I tell him I love him only to walk away.” I take a deeper inhalation than normal. “If he can survive that and still want to be here then I guess he’s a keeper.”

My father’s first response is to laugh at me. “Whether he has sex with you or not, Amelia, is irrelevant. He’s here to stay. You know death is the only way out of this life. He’s too deep already and he has the same fate as the rest of us.” My father stands, approaches, and stops just before me. “I’m just disappointed you’re turning into a little a whore right under my nose. Will I find you screwing Lorenzo next time?”

“Maybe,” I comment, giving a small smirk. “Depends who I fancy next.” I give a nonchalant shrug, redeeming my guise my father believes is the new me. “I always did fancy Matty, maybe he’ll be next.”

“You’re just testing me now,” my father grinds out, his face reddening. “If you’re going to be a little slut, take it outside of business personnel.”

“We’ll see,” I mock, laughing a little. “Zane was today’s flavor; we’ll see who I fancy next. There’s not really a damn thing you can do about it either, Salvatore.”

“You cannot go around doing this,” my father comments, shaking his head in dismay. “You used to believe in love, now you’re just becoming cheap.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know what real love was because every time I’ve felt it, it’s been stolen from me. Each time hasn’t gotten any easier, so I’d rather throw around a lot of lies to get what I wanted than get a lot of broken hope. Zane was just the second victim in that after Lorenzo.”

“Seems that Zane feels another way,” my father notes, nodding at Zane.

I look behind me, meet the eyes of the man who I love so strongly, and just see utter hate. I can barely apologize or backtrack when he shoots me a deathly glare and begins to back away. Zane leaves the room totally humiliated, and I’m left wondering if trying to save both our asses has just cost me my chance of happiness – again.

I deliberately adorned my favorite black bikini the moment I saw Zane begin swimming laps. After yesterday morning, he avoided me like the plague, even skipped dinner to go out and didn’t come back until most of us were asleep. After skipping breakfast with us, I was lucky to find him swimming, but he’s barely come up for breath.

For once, avoidance isn’t fun.

I just want a chance to apologize. I was hoping he would see my ulterior motives, but he left and he didn’t look back, so I know he’s not going to forgive me easily and I don’t know if I can fight this time around. My bid at protecting him only landed me in hotter water than before, and the way I’m feeling, I’m not sure I can be the one who fights for us. Not if it’ll end with me flat on my ass watching him walk away from the small progress we had made.

A part of me wants to believe it’s because he’s playing his role in this shoddy plan I threw together on the spot, but how can that be when he doesn’t even know the plan? I can only pray my misery is one that is short-lived because I want to go back to that afterglow we created; the one where it was just blissful and calm and there were no weights on my shoulders. However, since he left the grand room after that confrontation with my father, the dread in me has only been blackening as every minute passes. The longer I remain silent with him on the matter, the worse the trepidation becomes.

I shift on my towel, positioning my body so it looks most appealing. The black bikini itself is lacking in material, held together with delicate string details and the only covering is to keep some modesty but doesn’t leave much to the imagination. The color really draws out the tan that Italy gifted me with, and I feel as if the sensuality could actually be pouring from me. I just hope that it’s enough to make him look at me, but Zane is so involved, he barely breaks a stride as he moves agilely through the water, let alone looks at me.

Falling back, I watch from my sun lounger, sunglasses hiding the fact that my sole attention is on him, and watch as he glides through the water like a majestic animal. The water glides over his fit, tanned body in beautiful rivers of blue waves. He moves so elegantly through the water, it's truly mesmerizing and as I feel the wetness pool in my bikini bottoms, I find myself itching to feel his touch. I want that full consumption he made me feel. I want him to devour me like he used to. But I can't have any of it. I signed that horrible deal myself.

"Stop staring, sweetheart," Zane shouts as he stops at the far end, holding onto the edge. He clears water from his face as he turns to looks over at me. He pulls himself up, lounging against the wall of the pool, arms spread out along the marbled flooring that surrounds the water. "As you said yourself, we aren’t anything.”

“I didn’t say that.” I’m quick to defend.

“So I paraphrased,” he comments turning his back to me and pulling himself from the water. The water rushes off him, leaving him a glistening beauty in the midday sun. “Sue me.”

“Look, I know it looked bad, but you have to see this all from my point of view.” I struggle not to get irate with him because I know shouting at him will do nothing but cause him to throw up all defenses. “I have to lie,” I say, and he scoffs. “I have to say and do things I’m not proud of, nor do I mean, to appease men like my father. Because, had you not noticed, Zane, I live in a world where they don’t care much. My failure to kill you is something that has caused a lot of doubt in me, and yes, I will admit I am not the person I put on show, but you’ve proven that clearly I’m better at my disguise than I thought.”

“I don’t know what to believe around you, Amelia,” Zane states. The tension he emits shows as the muscles of his throat begin to tighten, his jaw clenches, and he looks fit to burst with inner frustration. “One minute you want me to take you, the next we’re just lying together as if nothing in the world matters and the next it’s all got to be kept secret. Top that with the fact you told a room full of your family and
Lorenzo
, might I add, that you’re just in it for the sex and you want me to feel pain like you did because of me.” His face begins to redden; those beautiful eyes of his twist and watch with such anger. “Well, guess what, Amelia? You managed it. I have never been more humiliated or hurt than I was last night after having bled myself dry to you.” All of a sudden, his posture falls with defeat. “I might have broken your heart twice, but you’re just showing to me that maybe this isn’t ever going to work.”

“No,” I whisper, my heartbreak exploding. I can’t allow him to think that. “Zane,” I say, standing. I toss my sunglasses aside and rush to be by his side. “Please, hear me out.”

“I heard you out,” he grunts, picking up his towel to dry himself. “If this is all some game to you, I won’t be a part of it. I won’t fight for someone who seemingly has other intentions. I won’t put my heart out for you to destroy it. I guess it’s what I deserve, but I thought we were past that.”

“We are,” I tell him. I want nothing more than to reach out and shake him.

“We aren’t,” Zane states, putting a hand up to stop me. “If we were, Amelia, you wouldn’t have chosen to keep Daddy sweet. You proved again that it will always be your family over me, and I won’t be some pawn for you to get your own way.”

“It’s not like that,” I argue, but I can see this is going to be a terrible fight to win. Zane seems set on the betrayal I presented him with and that’s on me.

“Then what is it?” Zane barks his questions. “From where I’m looking at, it seems that everyone is just some step into you finding that fucking absolution you always wanted. Well, guess what, Amelia? I won’t be the one offering you it anymore.” He throws the towel aside to put his hands into his hair, tearing at it with the frustration I’ve caused. “And the worst part is that I really thought I had gotten through to you, really made you see
why
I am here. I should have known that crap about wanting me to dominate you and claim you were all part of some bigger, elaborate plan.”

“It’s not some plan!” I bellow so harshly my eyes water. I see the delicate tapestry of our story becoming a chaotic mess. It’s gone from this beautifully woven tale with heart wrenching moments to utter destruction. It’s as if mine and Zane’s love story is forever set to repeat itself and I’m not sure I’ll be able to survive the repetition of loving him and losing him because of my buried and deep loyalties. “It’s not,” I say, my voice shrinking because that performance last night was part of a plan, one I never gave him insight to.

“
Bella
!” Lorenzo’s voice bursts into the tension and immediately, the thunderous look on Zane’s face darkens furthermore.

“Just fucking great. Lover boy number one’s on his way down for some attention,” Zane mutters and goes over to the sun lounger where he threw his towel and throws himself down on it. He relaxes, putting his hands behind his head. “Go pet him, Amelia. Wouldn’t want him to feel fucking neglected. Maybe you can have a do-over of what I did to you yesterday. See if he fills the gap better than me.”

“Zane,” I try, ignoring Lorenzo advancing closer and closer.

“Don’t,” he stops me with a cold tone. “You do what you need to. I’d hate to see you disappoint any other people now.”

Giving up, I retreat to my bed across the pool from Zane and as I sit on it, my sunlight – and view of Zane – disappears from sight as Lorenzo stands before me. I look up only to find him smiling brightly at me. I don’t say a word, push myself onto the bed more and lounge out. Lorenzo takes this as an invite and sits on the bed with me, grabbing my hand in his. He goes to speak only to be disrupted by a horde of annoying giggles. When I look, Giovanni’s coming down to the pool surrounded by three giggling girls. I roll my eyes, especially as Zane’s interest piques and his angry demeanor disperses.

I now know I have to do some damage control and that starts with Lorenzo.

But when I look back, he’s teetering forward, his pupils swollen with pleasure and his lips beginning to purse. I’m invariably trapped beneath him as he towers over me, and I can see Zane now looking over at us. I can feel his gaze burn into me, and I know how it must seem to him – me wanting Lorenzo, not pushing away on his advances, but if only he could hear what I am about to say. Maybe it would save us all a lot of heartbreak.

“I think it’s best you went back to Italy,” I begin to tell Lorenzo, and I feel bad as his happy expression shatters. “This, what we had, wasn’t meant to last. I don’t want you, Lorenzo.”

“Is this because of last night?” he asks, his voice dropping lower than it was when he called out for me. “It doesn’t bother me. I’m good at sex. I can do that until you love me.” He runs a hand up my leg, leaning forward more, creating some sort of intimate moment, but my discomfort is exceeding normal levels.

“No,” I say, pushing him away enough to break the intimacy. “This has nothing to do with that, and everything to do with me. You aren’t who I want. You came here believing I could love you, but I won’t ever feel what you do.”

Lorenzo gives a small chuckle before replying to me, “You don’t want me to leave really.”

As if to prove me wrong, he moves forward more, really coming to land a fucking kiss on me. I can feel my anger boiling and so I push him off completely before it can erupt, but as soon as I move him to clear my view, Zane’s stare is no longer on me and he’s now got a skinny redhead on his lap. He’s laughing joyfully, and I can see he really likes the newfound attention.

“If that’s what you want,” Lorenzo begins to mutter and looks back at Zane. “He brought her back last night so he must really like her.”

With his piece said, Lorenzo gets up and leaves, and I’m left staring aghast at Zane, who’s now framing the stranger’s face and before I have time to look away, he’s drawing her down so he can kiss her. I’m surprised the crack that ran through my heart wasn’t so audible he stopped, but instead he carries on. The more I watch, the more heartache and anger meet. I’m sieving and striving to watch anything but the sight before me. However, the more I watch, the more I’m pretty convinced he's trying to clean her teeth for her. He’s really working her to enjoy the time she has with him and I sit here like an envious little fool. Why am I jealous of that?! Why am I jealous of Zane playing tonsil tennis with a complete fucking bimbo? That’s right, because I made it so convincing that I was just in it for the sex that he no longer cares for my emotional welfare. Nor will he care at the ache that’s consuming me so painfully that I fear I’m about dissolve into tears.

I see movement and watch his hand come up her back, toying with the string to her skimpy bikini. I'm suddenly confused, overwhelmed with bafflement. Last night he was confessing the undying love he held for me and now he's here, allowing women to drape all over him and he’s clearly offering the advances. My tortuous memory throws forward my own mistakes from just last night, hissing at me the reasons he’s now being brutal. But as I feel this gauntlet of emotion rip through me, it’s all I can do not to allow it all to show on my face. As my eyes water, I know I’m soon going to fail on that aspect.

The final cut comes when Zane – continuing to kiss the stranger – looks directly at me. Our eyes meet and I try my hardest not to let him see my hurt, but I’m sure he can see he’s won. If this is the payback he wanted to hit me with, he’s winning. Anytime I see another woman threatening what fragile foundations Zane and I are forever building upon, I lose total control and only ever feel deep hurt. The worse thing is that I deserve all of this.

I have no right to go over there, drag that woman from my man’s lap by her shoddy extensions, and claim him as mine. I had that chance last night and I blew it beautifully. So convincingly that Giovanni is finally bonding with Zane over something – women.

With his eyes still on me, Zane deepens the kiss. The part that finishes me most is when he pulls her more onto his lap, both hands cupping ravenously at her ass as she now straddles him. I realize I can’t take any more of this torture and as the tears weave themselves along my lashes, I know I have to go. I stand up slowly, leaving all my things and begin to strut across the poolside until I’m passing Zane and Giovanni and heading up toward the house.

I’m grateful that I make it past them all before the tears start their onslaught. It’s far from pretty once they start, and I must look like a hot mess as I flee in nothing but a tiny bikini, my face screwed up as I allow every ounce of my heartache begin to reach the surface.

Going toward the patio doors that lead into the kitchen, I slam my flat palms against them, throwing both doors open. I need to find a sanctum; somewhere I can lick my wounds and rediscover the girl who came back to Manhattan – the tough, heartless one. I panic about where to really go to find such a damaging relief. If I go to my room, there’s a chance I’ll be found. If I stay in the kitchen, I’ll be caught. So I start to descend into the gym, knowing that I can work off my frustration against one of the punching bags then I can go on like normal. I can cover my tears with heavy grunts as I smack fist after fist into that red bag. The way I’m feeling right now I’d happily punch until I do damage.

When I hit that bottom step into the gym, I propel myself toward the punching bag, my bare feet pounding on the flooring of the gym, even though the tears still fall, I’m very much encompassed by a wrath of fury so hell-bent on pain that I know I need to work out all my emotions. I waste no time to stake my attack, and I feel the bright burst of pain flare in my knuckles, the throbbing soars up my arms, awakening every other pain receptor except my heart. Without appropriate strapping around my hands or gloves to protect me, I feel every hit, punch, and attack I offer in a bid to flee my own emotions. My pace hardens and becomes a battery of assaults until I feel the pain in my heart flare up and overtake me. I give up quickly, my emotions all too overwhelming and I slide down the punching bag, crumpling beneath it.