CAPO

13. Kisses *

an: chapters with the * contain sexual acts.

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Arabella and Giovanni are both incredibly competitive.

So when Giovanni challenged Arabella to see who could down the most wine, she pushed her hair to behind her back and filled their glasses to the brim, holding it in front of her mouth.

They were already tipsy and now as Giovanni kept his eyes on the girl from over his wine glass as he downed it, his head started swirling.

Arabella couldn't contain her smile as she giggled into her glass, momentarily slowing her. She was in the lead but Giovanni's furrowing of his brows and his hand coming up to under the glass, catching a few red drops of wine, made her lose.

"Rematch?"

Giovanni shook his head, wiping the red drops of wine from his stubble covered chin. "Take your defeat," He said.

"Come on," She egged on, "Please?"

Giovanni shook his head, his smile widening, "You want me drunk and if I'm drunk, I cannot drive you home,"

"I'll walk,"

"Over my dead body will you walk across town in the middle of the night,"

She sighed, smiling at him. Giovanni hummed and turned to the pasta on the stove, stirring it slowly. Arabella leaned against the counter, her eyes slightly hazy, matching her smile.

"Tell me something, pretty girl," Giovanni said.

"Something like what, Giovanni?

"Tell me what your parents are like," Arabella hummed, turning her gaze from him to at the ceiling. She smiled then, "Well, my dad's name is Sean and my mom's name is Kristen, and like I told you before, my mom cares more about what I'm doing rather than how I'm doing, and my dad's the exact opposite,"

She took her place next to him, opening the lid to the bubbling sauce, "He'd like you, I think," She added, peering into it.

"Oh?"

"Mhm, my mom wouldn't as much"

"And why not? I think I'm quite charming,"

She laughed then, making Giovanni stop what he was doing to admire her. "You are, I suppose. My mother is just very strict with who I do what with, it took her four years to finally like Cleo and when she found out she's a lesbian, she went apeshit,"

Giovanni merely hummed, opening the sauce and dipping the back of a silver spoon in, his eyes landing on Arabella's as he put it in his mouth, his taste buds blooming.

She parted her lips, the intense eye contact making her grow flustered and heat pool between her legs. She licked her lips, "Good?" She whispered. Giovanni nodded slowly, "I'm Italian, of course its good,"

She smiled, "Of course." She breathed, her cheeks growing hotter and brighter by the second. Giovanni looked away then, afraid if he didn't, he'd do something the girl wasn't ready for.

"What do you do, Giovanni?"

The man stilled, his throat closing up. He cleared it then, trying his best to seem as nonchalant by her question as he could.

"I own a few clubs, pubs, hotels and restaurants," He said, folding his arms across his chest. She could see the clear bruise on his cheekbone now, and her heart clenched in her chest. She took a step forward, reaching towards his face.