"What?"

"My mother was so afraid of you, but never once did she mention you. She never showed me a picture, never even uttered your name."

"I wouldn't call that weird. It's easy to justify your fears when they're out in the open. Even Ray's visible—everybody knows his name. But it's different with me. I think your mother thought it was more dangerous to acknowledge me, to put my name in your head. Besides, we used to be friends, your mother and I, and as much as she worried about me coming for revenge, I don't think she ever really believed you were in danger. She didn't think I'd kill an innocent." Sighing, I reach for her legs, grabbing and tugging on them. She yelps, laughing, as I pull her feet into my lap. "She thought me a better man than that."

I start rubbing her feet as she lets out a low rumble, curling her toes. "Oh God, you are," she says, relaxing back in the grass with a smile. "You're a great man."

I pause what I'm doing and look at her incredulously.

"Oh, no, no, don't stop," she says, peeking an eye open at me. Shaking my head, I focus back on her feet as she lets out a laugh. "And really, don't look at me that way. I've seen a side of you today that I've never seen before. You're patient, and genuinely nice."

"And what, I wasn't nice before? I wasn't patient?" I ask. "I distinctly remember eating cheap, bland noodles in the smallest, messiest room I've ever stepped foot into. I think I deserve at least a little credit for that."

"You do," she agrees. "But it's just… I don't know. It's strange. I'm never sure what to make of you, what to think anymore, especially when you look at me. You get this expression on your face sometimes, and I'm not sure whether you want to kiss me or kill me."

"That's probably because I'm not sure either."

Once more, she opens her eyes to peek at me. I offer her a smile and she tentatively returns it, holding my stare for a moment. "You're a peculiar one, Ignazio Michele Vitale."

She does it again, pronounces my middle name like my mother's feminine version. I run a single finger lightly down her sole and she laughs, squirming, trying to kick away from me but I hold her foot there, tickling.

"Naz!" She sits up, trying to yank her leg away as she shoves me, laughing wildly. "Stop!"

"Stop," I mimic, stilling my hand, but I don't let go of her leg. "What happened to 'don't stop'?"

"I changed my mind."

"Sounds like you."

She shoves me again, removing her feet from my reach when I finally loosen my hold. Instead of moving away, she shifts around so her head is on my lap. I stare down at her, running my fingers through her hair as it fans out. Her eyes drift closed as I do it, a smile playing on her lips.

We don't talk much.

What else is there to say?

I laid it all out for her, and she took it in stride.

Maybe there's a chance for us, after all.

"Come on," I say after a while. "It'll be getting dark soon."

Sighing, she climbs to her feet. "How far away is the hotel?"

"About a mile."

"Ugh." She grimaces, grabbing her shoes from the grass. "That's too far."

Turning around, I pat my back. "Hop on. I'll carry you."

Her eyes widen. "A piggyback ride?"

"Yes, why?"

"I'm way too big for that."

"You weigh, what, ninety pounds? A hundred?"

She laughs with disbelief as she puts on her shoes. Instead of climbing on my back, she slips her hand into mine, linking our fingers before tugging on my arm. "You just proved it again, Naz."

"Proved what?"

"There's good in you, after all."

"Do you wanna play around?"

I speak quietly, the words low and gruff as I force them from my lips. My conscience tells me not to ask, to not push her tonight, but my cock is hard and my heart is wide open, and I want every bit of this woman I can get.

Karissa is gazing out the balcony door, hands pressed against the glass. She turns her head at the sound of my question, regarding me warily.

I think she might say no.

Fuck, please don't say no…

After a moment, she turns around to face me, relaxing back against the cool glass. Her lips part, and I wait for the rejection, wait for her to shoot me down, but instead she whispers, "yeah."

"Yes?"

She nods, saying it again a little louder. "Yeah."

I regard her for a moment before casually strolling toward her, my hands in my pockets. It takes everything in me not to snatch a hold of her, shove her dress up, bend her over the closest surface and fuck the daylights out of her.

All night.

Until morning.

Fuck her until she can't stand anymore.

But I've taken enough from her, and I'll continue to take until death does us part. Tonight is about her, though, about making her remember how much she once loved me. She's under my skin and I want to make myself at home inside of her body.

Because I need her to get something out of this also, something that makes her feel good. I need her to know that she's special to me, that it's about more than just her blood.

My eyes rake down her body.

She's beautiful in that dress.

She'll look even better out of it.

"Tell me," I say, pausing right in front of her. "What's your biggest fantasy?"