sounds the next morning, I find myself still wrapped around Nero, his hands holding me to him by my hips, our legs tangled together and my mouth open, pressed against the skin of his neck.

That was the most comfortable night's rest I have ever had. I moan as I shift away from him, not wanting the warmth of him to fade. When those thick eyelashes flutter open, when he sets his dark, sleepy eyes on me and a smile tilts up the corner of his lips, my heart beats faster, melts into a pool in my chest.

"Dolcezza," he mumbles, planting a soft kiss to my forehead. He runs a hand affectionately through my wild hair. His words are thick with sleep. "How are you?" The rumble of his heavy, tired voice makes my insides clench deliciously. Somehow I know I could never get tired of his body against mine.

Resting on top of him, I kiss the hollow of his unshaven jaw, and the roughness of his morning stubble against my face is addictive. My fingers play with the dark waves of his hair. I line my nose and lips and eyes with his, feel his hard muscles press into the softness of my curves.

"Good," I mumble into his neck, sitting up to straddle him. "How are you?" His eyelids are hooded as he looks up at me, travel from my messy hair to my flushed cheeks, lower, lingering on my bare chest and then to the space where my thighs peak out from beneath the sheets.

When he finally meets my eyes again, they are dark and sparkling, and the look on his face makes my stomach flip. "Good." He brings a hand up, runs the rough pad of his thumb across my lips. "You are so fucking beautiful, Rosalyn."

I place a gentle kiss to his palm, lean in to press our mouths together. My fingers thread into his hair, he holds my waist and groans against my tongue as I move my hips, bringing those parts of us closer. "You're going to make me late for work," I mumble, reaching for a condom.

"I can be quick," he promises with a wicked grin, and soon I've lowered myself onto him, wanton sounds of pleasure escaping from us both. I match his thrusts, his hand drifts between my legs, a few skillfull strokes of his long fingers bringing me to a fast, hard, heavy finish, and his soon follows.

"Nero," I gasp into his neck, collapsing onto his strong chest. "Damn it."

He laughs softly into my hair. He must know that I have never had such incredible, mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex with anyone else. It's impossibly good.

I swear softly as I check the clock, roll off him and give him a small kiss. "I have to go, Nero."

I tug his shirt on, pick up my clothes. He puts on his briefs and follows me to the door, and just like that, this weekend, everything that happened over the last few days, comes to an end.

It feels strange, somehow, that life can still go on like it used to before... all this.

But he kisses me good-bye, and I whisper into his mouth that I'll see him later, and when I leave, there's a smile on my face and I can picture the content expression on his, the fondness in his eyes.

As I shower, change, make coffee, I feel him on my skin and in my thoughts and I'm not sure how exactly we've gotten to this point, but it seems so, incredibly right.

My heart lurches in my chest when I remember last night, the things he whispered in my ear as he held me in this arms and drove me to the brink of paradise. I told him I loved him, too.

As I'm leaving my apartment, I laugh out loud, because he told me he loves me and I said it back and I don't even have his number in my phone.

I grab a scrap of paper, scribble my number onto it, tape it to the outside of his door where he'll find it.

I have to remember to tell him about what my dad told me yesterday, about them offering someone in the mafia immunity for being an informant.

Except, a small part of me worries he'll get hurt.

Or, that he'll have to move somewhere else, to stay safe.

It's selfish of me. I should wish him well, after everything. It's too messy to think about.

•§•

when a message pops up on my phone. "Natalia wants to have dinner tonight, dolcezza" it reads, and I smile a little. I save his number, and my stomach does a small flip, just from the thought of him.

A second later, I get a message from Natalia. "Dinner tonight? I want to talk to Nero about the immunity deal"

It's hard to figure out her tone from just a message.

I type back to her, "Of course. I haven't told him yet."

To Nero, I reply, "Hey, she just messaged me. Details?"

I chuckle when their next texts come at the same time.

Nero: "My place at 6"

Natalia: "His place at 6"

Clearly verbosity runs in the family. I send a "Sounds good" to both of them.

Nero's next message makes me smile. "I'm worried she's going to murder me"

"I'll ask her to go easy on you"

A short pause before he replies, "She probably wants to kill you too"

Biting my lip, I type, "She sounds dangerous. Maybe you should hire her to work for you"

I'm allowed to joke about it, aren't I?

"It runs in the family"

At least he has a sense of humor.

"I got to get back to work. Want me to bring anything tnight?"

"Just you, gioia" he replies, making my heart leap in my chest.

I'm looking forward to getting to know him more, I realize. More about him, besides what I know about his family and his *former* job and what he feels like, looks like, sounds like.

I wonder what Natalia will have to say tonight. A part of me is anxious, but most of me is just curious.

•§•

how to make it stop. God.

I'm sitting in our staff meeting, where I'm supposed to be listening to changes to the upcoming annual budget. But there's this dull ache between my legs, proof of the past few days. And images of us, of him, fill the edges of my mind.

I try to focus on my boss, who is giving a passionate presentation at the front of the room. But I can't seem to pay attention to the words coming out of her mouth. I squirm uncomfortably in my chair.

I picture the way he looked, hovering over me, the way he pressed his mouth into my neck and whispered how much he loves me against my slick, warm skin, the rumble of his rough voice. The dark sparkle in his eyes. The sheen of sweat across his golden, muscled shoulders and the sounds we made together, the smell of our sex in the air, sending me to the clouds, nerves turned to fire, with every hard, heavy, deep thrust.

I catch myself biting my lip, my legs crossed under the table to stifle the heat pooling between them. Oh Nero.

I know, instantly, that there will never be another man who takes my body and soul so completely. Apparently, I can't even think of anything else besides the way we consumed each other, arms and legs wrapped together and lips tangled in a gentle, fervent battle...

Stop it, Rosalyn. Get a grip.

It takes an inhuman amount of effort to go about my day.

But, there's a smile on my face, that I can't seem to wipe away no matter how much I try.

Jillian, another designer who sits at the workstation next to me, studies me closely. It's near the end of the day, and I bring her a cup of coffee. Even I can notice the slight bounce in my step.

"Ros," she says quietly, dry laughter tugging at the edge of her mouth. "Whoever he is, he must have been really damn good. You can't even walk straight."

I choke on my coffee, a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Jill," I groan, closing my eyes. "You have no idea."

Her laughter fills my ears. "You deserve it, babe."

I run a hand through my hair, trying not to smile. "It's complicated."

She chuckles. "Not complicated enough, I guess. You're glowing."

I let out an annoyed huff. "You are like, the third person to say that. I am not glowing. What does that even mean?"

We laugh until we know we should get back to work. But it's obvious that I am happier than I've been in a long time, and it feels really, really, really good.

Thanks for reading! Please consider voting if you're enjoying BTW. Votes help books do well in the Wattpad stats. ❤️