Luca
I was still damp from the shower, and my towel was loosely tied around my waist. I had been waiting for this damn delivery for two hours—two long hours. I was starting to wonder if the delivery guy had decided to take a road trip to Tijuana before heading down here.
When I heard the knock on the door, I was already in the bathroom, so I had to rush out, undone. I opened the door, fully prepared to grumble at the poor delivery guy—probably some weird-looking kid with headphones on.
I swung the door open…
…and walked straight into the softest body I had ever collided with.
Not a guy.
A girl.
Her body pressed against mine for a second, and when she stepped back, I swore I was speechless. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, with a few strands flying out, but it didn't look messy at all.
And then… Dio santo.
I couldn't help but notice how her blouse stretched and released with every breath. I tried to look away. I really did. But I couldn't.
I had made her uncomfortable just by staring. I barely managed a few words. I didn't want her to think of me like a perv, but… I was pretty sure she already did.
And just like that, she handed me the tacos and ran off.
I stood there, watching her jog toward the gate. That ponytail bounced, and damn, she had an amazing body for a delivery girl.
"Luuuu-ca! Who was that? Is that the tacos?" Matteo yelled from inside. "Great. I'm starving!"
She had her eyes on me as she drove past the gate.
"What? Did I say something wrong?" I called after her, but she drove off like she'd seen a ghost.
Or maybe I had toothpaste on my face?
I touched my face, confused.
But there was nothing.
"Oh, shit." I patted my robe pocket.
I had been too distracted. I hadn't even left a tip. She deserved a tip, at least for looking that beautiful.
I closed the door with my heel, dropped the boxes on the counter, and leaned against it, replaying everything.
In my head, I had already dragged her inside, stripped her off that uniform, and spread her legs across my kitchen counter, ate her out like she was the main course.
The way her boobs had been fighting with that fabric had me dick hard and jecking. I felt the room getting hotter and hotter, as I imagined a sweet romantic moment with her in my head.
One night.
That was all I wanted—only one night with her, and I would go back to being the dutiful son my father wanted me to be.
But one night wasn't allowed, not now that I had already agreed to go along with the insane deal my father had brought to my table.
I pressed both palms to my face, frustrated.
My father, the king of manipulation, had decided my future was something to bargain with. His long-time friend had a daughter, and their friendship needed "strengthening." Apparently, her father had some influence that my father hoped to benefit from; I had absolutely no idea.
So what did he do?
He traded me like I was stock in the family business.
I, Luca Moretti, was now reduced to marriage for profit.
I remembered what he had said to me the other day: "This isn't about you, Luca. This is about family and keeping doors open."
And until the ink dried on whatever contract my father had been salivating over, I wasn't allowed to be with any other woman—not even this one.
Now, thinking about the deal… I felt cheated. I knew a man eventually settled down, built a home, and became responsible for it.
But not now.
Not while I was still exploring.
I had told myself to accept it and let things flow. Just maybe, I would get used to it as the days went by.
Marriage was not that hard. I grew up seeing my parents sometimes looking into each other's eyes and even kissing in my presence—yuck. I guessed that's how shameless true love should be, and that was what I eventually hoped to come home to every day.
But this hunger, this unfinished craving, was driving me insane.
I thought I had everything under control.
But the last ten minutes had undone me more than ten years of women ever had.
I could still see her, her ponytail bouncing as she ran off. The look on her face when she bumped into me at the door… it was hilarious.
She was beautiful, I wouldn't lie.
I slumped into a chair and opened a box. The warm and spicy aroma hit me. This was not my first time ordering from La Regina del Taco. Matteo had made me try them once, and I never looked back.
Today, I wanted to try out different fillings, to see what they tasted like—and also because I was bored.
Matteo looked at me as if I were a painting in a museum.
"Che hai, eh? Are you okay?"
I looked at him. He stood there holding a taco in one hand and his half-unzipped pants in the other.
He was the kind of guy who could sweet-talk any girl into his bed, and after that, she was old story. A Playboy any day, anytime. However, he had been swearing lately that he was "done" with all that.
"Luca, I should settle down. This isn't a flex. I need to get my life together, man."
I nodded every time, but watching him?
This man was obviously allergic to commitment.
If not, tell me why he had a new girl over tonight.
His guest had managed to drag herself upstairs; with the way she bit her lips and wiggled like a worm in salt, I could tell she still wanted more of whatever Matteo had given her before the delivery had interrupted them.
My living room was a total mess—shoes, his jacket, the couch pillows were all on the floor.
Of course, I wasn't surprised. I didn't need to be told to know my shameless friend could barely keep it in his pants long enough to make it to the bedroom before screwing her right there in my living room.