Page 53 of Sweet Prison
A blush creeps up my cheeks just from imagining that scenario.
Yes, please.
“Um… let me see the seams. There might be a way to let them out.” I take his wrist, inspecting the hem of the sleeve, then pull his arm up, trying to gauge the presence of extra material atthe seam along the side. “I can try, except I’m not sure if it will look good.”
“Sir, let me see,” the sales associate chirps from her spot by the shelf of folded shirts and rushes toward Massimo. I noticed her ogling him the moment we stepped inside the store. She was all too ready to assist him.
Tall and thin, she’s dressed in a bright-yellow sleeveless blouse that ties around her neck, leaving her arms and back bare. I can’t stop looking at her flawless skin—there isn’t even one blemish on it. The last time I wore a short-sleeved top, I was in elementary.
The associate stops in front of Massimo, right next to me, and reaches for the lapels of his suit jacket.
A pang of jealousy hits me right in the chest. I let go of the sleeve and take a quick step back. Am I a bad person for hating a random, unfamiliar woman just because she looks so perfect? Becausetheylook so perfect standing next to each other?
“Get your hands off me,” Massimo growls.
The woman tenses and retreats. “I apologize. I was just thinking…”
“You thought wrong.” He turns around and stalks into the changing room, slamming the door closed in his wake.
A long sigh sounds on my left. I look at the sales lady as she stares at the closed door Massimo just disappeared behind, adoration clearly written all over her face.
“Your boss is such an intense man.” She sighs again. “Any chance I can get his phone number?”
Every fiber of my being stiffens, and I wonder how in hell this woman knows who Massimo is. He might not be the official don yet, but— Oh. She didn’t mean “boss” in that context. I guess, she just assumed I’m Massimo’s PA.
“Not from me. You’ll have to ask him yourself,” I mumble.
I shouldn’t be surprised. No one in their right mind would think I’m Massimo’s girlfriend or anything along those lines. Soon after we stepped inside the mall, I realized the reaction the man beside me could draw from women. He didn’t even need to try. Every woman we passed stared at him with lust-filled eyes. With his tall muscular frame, shaved head, and tattoos covering his neck and hands, Massimo is one of those men who command attention simply by walking into the room. Each woman, without exception, gazed at him as if he was larger than life. If I thought he had that effect only on me, I was hugely mistaken.
“I need to stop at the drugstore,” Massimo says as he approaches me and lays his palm on the small of my back. “The shower gel McBride got me smells like cat piss.”
“I think I saw one down that hallway,” I mutter, distracted by his touch.
“Great. Do you need anything?”
“No. I…” We’ve left the men’s clothing store, and his hand is still resting on my lower back. “I can’t use regular cosmetics. I usually buy special products for sensitive skin.”
“Maybe they’ll have some. We’ll ask.”
“I would need to check the ingredients listed for each. It takes time, and Salvo is coming in less than an hour.”
“Fuck Salvo.”
We find the drugstore just a few doors down. Massimo heads to the personal care aisle and grabs a random bottle of body wash off the shelf.
“Don’t you want to smell it first?” I ask.
“Can’t be worse than the one I have at home. Trust me.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I actually think it smells nice. Lemony.”
Massimo stops and looks at me. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Does he think it’s strange that I’ve noticed his scent?
“You sure?” His eyes glint, yet I can’t quite decipher the expression.
“Um… I don’t know. I think so. Lemon. Or lime, maybe.”
Slowly and without breaking our locked stare, he leans down until our faces are almost even.