Omerta- Book I (Winner of the 2015 People's Choice Award)

13) Addicted

Ferro was so handsome when he smiled that it almost pained me to look at him, but I couldn't shut my eyes. As time ticked on and he continued to lie beside me, I stared at him more curiously than ever, studying every feature on his head. I studied his thick dark brown hair, the matching colored sideburns, and the dark shadow of hair layering his jaw. Then I went a layer deeper, and it was then that I deciding that Ferro-Valentino La Morte was not as perfect as I thought.

He had a nose that had definitely been broken a few times, teeth that (I noticed this because he was still smirking) were faintly crooked, and a dark eyebrow that was locked in position slightly higher than the other. These were things that I would have never noticed, had I not been so close to him at that very moment, but they were also "mistakes" etched into his appeal that somehow made him even sexier than before.

Was this my "punishment"? Forced to observe the beautiful man in front of me grin like that, a mere inch or two from my face, in a cruel silence? A punishment, where every noise amplified, where all I heard was I, pulling air loudly in and out my nose like an asthmatic, the piece of crap plumbing clinking and clanking, and the faint sound of a game show on in the apartment directly below my ear pressed against the floor?

Ferro traced another shape on my back, his fingers lightly brushing my skin and warm.

I couldn't take this anymore.

This man was driving me insane.

I let out a simple, irritated noise, fearing that if I tried to speak, I would start to gag on panties. If he was about to say what I thought he was going to say, I surely didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to hear it at all. Because if he said what he was going to say next, I knew a part of me would break.

"You know, I find you very interesting, candy," my neighbor started, falling into a deep train of thought. "I think you're a very pretty woman and strong willed. You're a fighter, candy, and it's clear." He started to laugh. "And your punches and kicks, although sloppy, still manage to impress me. Although, I don't believe they did you much justice tonight..."

I gave him a flat look.

Ferro's grin widened even more, if at all possible, and that stupid finger that had been tortuously caressing my middle back, paused. He moved that hand to his side and curled his straightened arm inwards, using it as a pillow for his head. We were now closer than ever.

"But you've stumped me, and that is why I laid myself on the floor next to you. I had to think about something. The way you acted before. Fifteen minutes or so ago, I asked you how frequently you and Todd fucked, and you refused to answer any more of my questions. It was a simple question that I asked you there, really, and as invasive as it might have been, it was important to me..."

Ferro propped his head on his hand, his half-naked body still turned towards me on the ground, and finally, that wicked grin of his fell. Now he was serious, and I always got a bad feeling when Ferro looked this unsmiling.

He wet his bottom lip a little before continuing. He lowered his voice to a thoughtful whisper and his Italian accent, which had once had been so thin that it was barely noticeable, thickened significantly.

"You see, biscottino...little cookie...some men, with my, uh, familiarity with certain activities, like to know the answer to those types of question, before they decide to fuck a woman. Some men...with my familiarity with certain activities, have surpassed a certain point in their life, where they do not want to do things again to a woman, perhaps in your particular circumstance...that the man has done already and is; uninterested in doing again because they aren't looking for anything from a woman, well... concrete, I guess."