48

Sophie
I wake to find a man sleeping next to me. A very hot man.
I can’t believe Joey spent the night. I really thought he’d be more of the “hit and run” type. He seems like a player.
I drink in the sight of him. He’s a completely foreign presence in my bed. His chiseled features aren’t softened by sleep-the jaw and nose are still strong, the lips a soft, inviting counterpoint. He sleeps on top of the sheets in his boxer briefs, and his body is like that of a prize fighter-all muscle.
All I can think is: Joey LaTorre is a real man. That doesn’t mean I’m going to get involved with him. But damn, since I’ve agreed to two more dates with him, I might as well make the most of it.
He is so worth a torrid fling.
I spent all my dating years avoiding men like him, men like my dad-aggressive men. Cocky, self-assured, macho men. Alpha men. Now I realize, it may have been at the cost of satisfying sex. Because I just had the best orgasms of my life. It’s not just his technique, it’s everything about him-the toxic masculinity, the powerful persona.
I’m surprised he stayed. Really surprised.
It’s not like it was that late or he’d had a drink. Maybe he just fell asleep like I did. But no, he’d put his boxers back on.
Weird.
I don’t mind seeing him in my bed, though. His body is truly a thing of beauty. Looking at it brings on a fresh surge of lust. What is it with this guy? I’ve never been this horny in my life. Well, one more round with LaTorre before cutting him loose would not be the worst thing. Placing my hand on his washboard abs, I slide it lower, slipping it into his briefs.
His cock surges to attention at my touch, hardening and lengthening immediately. He lets out a soft groan and opens his eyes, resting his hands under his head. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” I crawl lower. He spreads his legs wide to allow me to settle between them on my knees. Freeing his cock from his briefs, I run my tongue over its head, enjoying the way it lengthens and bobs for me.
He makes a low growl of approval which goes straight to my nipples, making them stand up at attention.
I drag my tongue from base to tip, then lap the glistening drop that emerges. “Is this why you stayed?”
“I stayed because I didn’t want you to think it was a one-night stand kinda thing… oh God!” he pants.
He didn’t want me to think it was a one-night stand.
I’m having a hard time processing that information. Surely Joey’s not after more than sex. We hardly know each other, other than our shared connection to the mob. I continue swirling my tongue around the head of his cock.
“Because it’s not,” he manages to say. “I’m totally serious about dating you.”
Still not processing. None of this computes.
I hold the base of his cock and slowly slide my mouth all the way down, sucking hard on the outstrokes. I continue, enjoying when his hips begin to undulate, his thighs tremble, and I hear his breath grow ragged. I tease him, toying with just the head of his cock while the rest of it cools in the air, then taking the entire length as far down my throat as I can.
The taste of pre-cum excites me, turning into a viscous solution in my mouth, slicking the way. I tease his balls with one hand, holding firmly to the base of his cock with the other while increasing the tempo of my strokes in response to his gasps. He groans, gripping the back of my head with his hand and guiding me faster, his thighs tightening and jerking until he comes with a howl into my mouth.
I swallow and pop off, satisfied with myself, grinning as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Oh my God.” He lunges forward to catch me up in his arms and pull me down on top of him, wrapped in a grateful embrace. “That was out of this world.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Everyone knows Catholic girls give the best blowjobs, but you just blew the rest out of the water.”
I groan at his joke and wriggle my hips over his cock, turned on at the pleasure I gave him. He grips my ass and squeezes. “Do you need to come, bella?”
I nod.
He slides his finger between my cheeks and strokes my outer lips, spreading my nectar over the length of my slit. “Well, you’ll just have to wait. That will be my guarantee you’re going out with me again.”
“Wait, what? Are you serious?”
He grins. “Dead serious.”
“Ugh!” I grumble, slapping his arm and rolling off him. “And I was hoping you’d accept this in lieu of that second date.”
“First date. We’re not counting last night because you cut things short. Remember?” He follows off the bed and gets dressed.
“That was before you spent the night! I definitely think it counted.”
“Okay, fine. We’ll count it. But I still get two more.”
“What if I make breakfast?”
“Nah, I don’t eat in the morning. You making coffee, though, si?”
I roll my eyes but smile. “Sure. Coming right up.”
“It doesn’t count for our date!” he calls after me.
Five minutes later, I stand wrapped in a short pink robe with the espresso machine spitting out two shots. Joey saunters in, looking every bit as handsome as he did the night before. My body responds to the sight of his large frame, the implicitly masculine way he carries himself in his button-down shirt and slacks that look sexy and still somehow appropriate this morning. I can tell by the fabric and cut they are designer brands, and I didn’t miss the Rolex watch nor the Ray-Ban sunglasses. These symbols of a wealth won through illegal means irritate me, but, like everything else about him, also turn me on.
He wanders into the living room and examines my framed posters on the wall. “You’re a fan of musicals?”
“Shut up,” I say, expecting ridicule.
“I’m not judging.” He returns to the kitchen. “I like musicals.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You. Like musicals.” My voice drips with disbelief.
He shrugs. “Yeah. Why not? I’ll tell you what, how about I take you to see a Broadway show for our second date?”
“Which one?”
“What do you want to see?”
“Hamilton is my favorite.”
His lips quirk. “Then let’s go. I’ll buy tickets.”
“Seriously?” My entire body temperature rises by two degrees at the unexpected pleasure. The two hundred dollar tickets would be a huge splurge for me, which is why I only go to see Broadway shows once a year. The fact that Joey LaTorre deduced I’d be interested and is willing to take me comes as a shocker.
“I’d love to. Wow.” I try to hide my excitement. I can’t let this guy get a big head or anything. I guess I fail because Joey gives me a knowing grin. “Cream and sugar?”
“Please.”
I stir his coffee for him and hand it over, watching as he drains it all at once. He hands me the cup and pulls the bag of garbage out of my trash container as if he lives here, and it’s his duty.
“So I’ll get tickets-when’s our next date?” He leans forward to give me a kiss. “I don’t want to come on too strong.”
I snort.
“Too late?” When I give him a “yeah, dummy” look, he says, “In that case, tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” I exclaim with incredulity.
He winks. “I’ll call for tickets. I can’t get enough of you, bella.”
I let out a surprised laugh. “You are so full of shit, LaTorre.”
“It’s not shit, it’s the God’s honest truth. I’ve had it for you since the moment I saw you all grown up. I’d marry you today if you’d have me.”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head. “You’re nuts.”
“Maybe. But I don’t think so. I’m not afraid to go after what I want. And what I want is you.” He gives me another kiss. “See you at six.”