"𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮."
Lonzo Mattia doesn't like strangers.
When his underboss, Gabriel, invites his sister, Alexia, to stay at their house when her parents can n...
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A L E X I A D A L T O N
It's safe to say that Lonzo trains a lot harder than Gabriel.
The first session with my brother was calm and collected. Training with Lonzo felt like running barefoot through hell. We've had two sessions since and today will be my third with the mafia boss. It's clear that he likes to be dominant, call the shots, and order me around.
At first I kind of despised it but after a while I pushed away his authoritative tone and focused on the actual job at hand. I can't have him distracting me if I need to learn how to attack and defend myself. Even when he's wearing a skin tight t-shirt that flashes off his perfectly carved biceps and triceps.
He's pushed me to limits that I didn't even know I could achieve, when he tells me to kick, I kick. And when I do it, I pretend it's his face and it somehow makes me perform better.
After my second session with him, I felt sick with the tension that was flying around the room.
Being stuck alone with him for two hours is good enough as torture. But those dark brown mysterious eyes that hold me hostage, his thick, gravelly voice that shouts demands at me, the way my body wants to naturally impress him.
It's far too much for someone who told him to stay away. Now he's right in my face, neither of us taking our eyes off each other for a stupidly long amount of time. But I keep telling myself that it's for my own benefit, today I'll train with Lonzo. Tomorrow I'm back with my brother and it'll give me a chance to cool off.
God knows that I fucking need it or I'm heading straight to hell with the devil himself.
What makes things even worse is that I've just woken up from one of the most delicious and mouthwatering dreams, my body again reminding me that it's been a hot fucking minute since I got laid. My mind is now haunted by envisions of muscled men, powering over me, tasting me, taking me.
Fuck. I need to stop.
My head rotates to my phone and I press the screen. Thirty minutes until training with Lonzo starts. I groan and ignore the pressure between my thighs, I'll have to deal with it later in the shower. There is no way I'm going to chance getting myself off in front of the camera again–the one that has been re-installed.
I get dressed into black fitted leggings, a black sports bra and a thin top. I quickly grab an apple before heading downstairs to the basement where the training room is. I didn't even know this place existed until Gabriel showed me the other day.
"You're late," Lonzo's voice snaps across the room. I find my gaze floating to him, he's wearing a similar top to our other sessions. Tight, fitting. I'm sure I can see his rock hard abs underneath the fabric, that's how close it is to his skin. I suck in a breath and find his eyes again–anything away from that body which could destroy me in a matter of seconds.
