The Donafrio Donor (18+ Only) [COMPLETED]

3: In Which She Lets the Right One In

3: In Which She Lets the Right One In

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I flicked the light switch on in the living room and gestured for Carlo to take a seat. He pointedly didn’t mind me. I froze when his hand came to the small of my back, instantly scorching my skin through the fabric of my dress.

“What are you doing?” I croaked out.

It wasn’t as if I was a stranger to a man’s touch, but being a single mother was rarely appealing to the run-of-the-mill male, so I could definitely be forgiven for flinching in surprised arousal the way I did. By Carlo’s tone, he thought I found his touch unbearably disgusting.

“Talking,” was his abrupt response.

My mobile bleated from the depths of my handbag and snapped me out of my trance. I stepped away from Carlo and pulled it out, grateful for the diversion. Jules had finally replied to my text.

It’s OK. Turns out he just wanted that stupid bear Charlie bought him. See u tomorrow. x

So she was fine with Mickey spending the night. I shouldn’t have been so pleased about that but I was. Mickey certainly shouldn’t have been privy to the discussion that was about to take place. Plus, the less he saw of Carlo Donafrio, the better.

I cleared my throat and turned to fix my eyes on the man that was currently invading my space. “Sit,” I commanded, knowing that he wouldn’t obey me. Obedience clearly wasn’t in his vocabulary, unless it was directed to him.

“Is this some sort of strange, coy English girl foreplay?” Carlo questioned, closing the space between us in one step. “I must say, it’s...refreshing.”

“Foreplay?” I sputtered, noticing how his eyes had turned a shade darker, murkier. “You think I’m... You think I want to... to seduce you?”

“I don’t think it, cara. I know it.” He firmly cinched his big hands around my waist, drawing me to him in one swift tug.

Of course he would’ve thought that. In the murky puddle that was my mind, I knew that that’s what it had sounded like when I’d invited him in ‘to talk’. Obviously he used his mouth for other things after ten p.m.

“But...but...” I stammered, then changed tack. “I’m not your type.”

He cocked his head. “No doubt.”

I felt myself go cold. “Now that we’ve clarified that particular bit of information, why don’t you let me go?” I said through clenched teeth.

Why are you offended? my conscience wanted to know.  It’s the truth! You’re complete opposites!

“But we are having such a fruitful discussion, Danielle.” He dragged my name out; tasting it, making it his.

I pushed at his chest, fighting against the way I was creaming my thong. “You’re the one that wanted to talk about my son and I think you’re right. I need to set some ground rules here.”

He slowly released me and claimed the armchair behind me as his. “Go ahead.”

“Good,” I said, shocked to learn that I was actually disappointed that I could feel his big hands all over me no longer. It was this cursed dress. It was probably far too short for me and probably had some kind of aphrodisiac built into the hemline. “I’m going upstairs to change,” I told Carlo, “and don’t follow me.”

Before he could say anything, I turned on my heel and bounded up the stairs. Once inside my bedroom, the dress came off and a faded pair of jeans and tatty T-shirt came on. As an afterthought, I stuffed my gun into my back pocket before heading back downstairs.