Forbidden: A Mafia Billionaire Romance by Alta Hensley

Author:Alta Hensley [Hensley, Alta]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2019-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Anthony

I was such a creature of habit that even though I had tried to present our get-togethers as casual, they became as routine as our once a month lunches. They were very carefully planned and scheduled, although I didn’t seem to have any sort of length of time for them. Sometimes we literally spent all day together.

We were both reveling in it, but we never discussed it. We were each too closemouthed about our feelings to bring it up. I was afraid that talking about it too much would dispel the fragile tendrils of friendship and camaraderie we had developed. Raychel was finally starting to unwind with me and relax a little. I had never realized until I started to get to know her better just how uptight and tense she’d been around me all the time. As one by one, the self-protective layers she’d hidden behind began to peel back and fall away, the gorgeous rose hiding beneath them was gradually being revealed.

Raychel would never be flashy and outgoing and the center of everyone’s attention, as Dasha had been. This was a trait that clearly did not run in the family. She was too shy for that and would never want all eyes on her. But she shone in her own pleasant, soft-spoken way, especially when she was doing or seeing anything to do with art.

I had taken her to several shows in the surrounding areas, and watching her was like seeing an entirely different person. I had never seen her so animated. Her face glowed as she took in each painting, but it was as if she was in a trance. Raychel didn’t just look at the art on the walls. It was as if she fell into each frame, wrapping the colors around her like a cloak, embracing every brushstroke. One of the exhibits featured impressionists, Monet in particular, and I watched her as she stood in front of painting after painting, just absorbing it with a soft, barely there smile of complete understanding and true ecstasy on her face.

And I became fully hard right there in the small gallery, in front of God and everyone, so much so that I had to use my coat and try to drape it casually over the front of my pants, and hope no one noticed.

The question that kept throbbing in my mind—and a lot lower—was whether she looked like that just after sex. All relaxed and serene and sated.

I consciously started to touch her more, at first very nonchalantly then much less so, and she hadn’t run away... yet. Although she did manage to look extremely uncomfortable at times, even though she’d never taken me to task for taking any sorts of liberties. She’d never gotten mad, and seemed to melt into my arms when I held her. I had to remember that she was a virgin, a woman who hadn’t yet learned how to communicate her preferences if she even knew what those were. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d dealt with someone so innocent.

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