I can handle being his plaything for a week. I can talk dirty for him, let him boss me around, be whatever fantasy he’s projecting onto me. I can even enjoy the sex—might as well, right? But I can’t forget what this is. A transaction. A business arrangement with a very specific end date.
Six more days. That’s it. Six more days of Giovanni Bavga, and then I’m free. Twenty-one days until homelessness. Five demerits left. $31,750 on the line.
“You’re thinking very loudly,” Giovanni murmurs against my ear, his breath warm on my skin.
I force a smile. “Just… enjoying the view.”
He hums noncommittally, his fingers still tracing intricate, lazy patterns on my thigh, each touch sending small electrical currents through my oversensitive skin. Then, without warning or preamble, he’s standing up—taking me with him in one fluid motion as though I weigh nothing at all. My bare feet find the cool concrete floor of the cabana, the chill a stark contrast to the heat still radiating between us as he casually shoves his dick back inside his trunks with practiced efficiency.
Come is spilling down my thighs once again, warm and viscous against my skin, a physical reminder of what just happened between us. Just as suddenly as he stood, he picks me back up and starts walking with purpose, his stride confident and unhurried.
I hook my legs around him out of pure instinct, wrapping them securely around his waist, but I quickly realize I’m in no danger of falling. He’s got his large hands firmly cupped under my ass, holding me close to his body with an effortless strength that makes my breath catch.
“What are we doing?” I ask, my words coming out embarrassingly shaky and breathless, betraying the lingering effect he has on me. My heart hammers against my ribs as hecarries me away from the cabana, his steps deliberate on the stone pathway.
Then, without warning, I’m flying through the air! The world spins around me in a disorienting blur before I hit the pool water with a shocked gasp, the cool liquid crashing against my heated skin as I sink beneath the surface. The contrast between the warm evening air and the chilly water sends a jolt through my system, washing away the sticky come on my legs.
He threw me in the pool!
I come up for air with a splutter, wiping the stinging water from my eyes just in time to see Giovanni’s powerful form arcing through the air before he crashes into the water next to me, sending waves rippling outward. He surfaces with a rare, uninhibited laugh that transforms his usually severe features into something almost boyish.
He splashes me playfully, his large hands creating miniature tsunamis as he grabs at me in the water, his fingers finding purchase on my waist as he pulls me to him. The buoyancy of the water makes me feel weightless against his solid frame.
“What the hell was that for?” I ask, unable to contain my own laughter despite the sudden dunking.
“To get your mind back on me,” he says while pulling me through the water over to the edge of the pool where there’s a little waterfall cascading over smooth stones.
We duck under it, and he settles himself on a submerged ledge, pulling me into his lap once again as the falling water creates a curtain of privacy around us.
I push wet strands of hair from my face so I can see him properly. “In what fucking world do you think I’m living in that my mind isnoton you? You’re the only personhere, Giovanni.”
Shit. I just said that out loud. To his face. While half-naked in his pool, with his DNA still inside me.
The words hang in the humid air between us, uncomfortably sincere. Giovanni’s eyes widen slightly—the barest flicker of surprise before his expression settles into something unreadable. His mouth opens to respond, and I brace myself for whatever’s coming next.
But before he can speak, the waterfall curtain parts like a theatrical reveal, and Rico’s face appears in the gap. Water cascades around his shoulders as he ducks under, invading our private alcove with the casual entitlement of someone who’s never heard the word “no.”
“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Rico’s voice is velvet-wrapped gravel, his New York accent thicker than Giovanni’s more polished tones. “You two lovebirds hiding from the party?”
All the playfulness evaporates from Giovanni’s body in an instant. His muscles go rigid against mine, his arm tightening around my waist with bruising intensity. The transformation is startling—one second he’s almost human; the next, he’s a loaded weapon.
“Get out.” Giovanni’s voice is flat, deadly. The words don’t even sound like a threat—more like a simple statement of fact.
I look over my shoulder at Rico as his gaze slides over my body, lingering on my nipples pressing up against the wet T-shirt. I cross my arms over my chest instinctively, which only makes him smile wider.
“You didn’t introduce us properly earlier,” Rico says, extending a hand toward me. “I’m Rico LaRiccia. Giovanni’s favorite cousin.”
“No one cares, Rico,” Giovanni says, his voice a controlled burn. “Get out. Go find yourself a whore.”
“Well,” he says, still smiling at me like prey. “That’s funny.” He looks at Giovanni now. “Because that’s what you calledherearlier. Yourwhore. But she doesn’t look like a whore to me. She looks like…” His attention returns to me once again. “Agirlfriend.” Rico’s smile doesn’t falter as he stares at me, but something dangerous flickers in his eyes. “Is she your girlfriend, Giovanni? Your one true love?”
Instead of getting angry, Giovanni relaxes. His hands start exploring my hips, then they slide up inside my shirt to fondle my tits. “Well…” Giovanni says, “I guess for six more days she is. I bought her for the week. We’re playing a game.”
I’m surprised he admitted this, but what can I say? It’s true.
“I like games,” Rico says, sliding up behind me. Suddenly his hands are on my shoulders, his hips pressing into my back. His hard-on very evident.
Giovanni pushes him back. “If you want her, you can buy her next week. Right now, she’s mine. So fuck off.”