The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Chapter 147

I throw my third sexy dress on the bed and slump down in a deflated heap, annoyed with myself that I’m doing exactly what I said I wouldn’t do. Prettying myself up for him and stressing over how to dress and what to wear like some sad little teenage idiot on a first date. I can’t believe myself sometimes.

He texted me and told me to be ready for six and to dress casually. Whatever that means. Ironic really, as that was my original plan; to show a lack of effort and now, here I am with a bed full of dresses and he is the one telling me to dress down.

I don’t know if he means casual pretty for somewhere like his Italian restaurant or if he means jeans and sweater casual. I’m not asking him because then he will think I’m keen for tonight and I’m definitely not. This is my first stage of observing and analysing him. Spend time, suss him out and look for all the little acts and niggles that cement whether this is genuine.

I need to be sure I’m not being played, once and for all. Tonight will tell me that, and then maybe if I can suss it out, it will make the decision a whole lot easier.

That’s about as far as I have got with my plans, anyway. Play along, be nice, rile him occasionally, and try to figure him out. Shouldn’t be too hard to tell if it’s fake with some well-placed button pushes to see if his mean side is sleeping or just hiding from me. Alexi can act demure and charming all he wants, but the proof of the pudding and all that is when I make him lose his temper with me. It’s easy to poke that bear—disobedience or just flout the ownership buttons and boom. We have ourselves an Alexi meltdown and immediate sadistic appearance with that temper he struggles to control.

A necessary evil to see how different he really can be. If I have to endure being punished to see him for what he really is then at least I’ll know what my future would be like. I can run and never look back, with no doubt that I was saving myself from a lot of heartache.

I pull on another figure-hugging dress and glance at my clock, cursing myself that it’s almost six and he will show up at any minute. Picking a long jumper dress over skinny jeans, to look like I made zero effort, I re-brush my hair back into its sleek ponytail and turn it into a messy bun. I’m going for the ‘I just threw this on and forgot we had plans’ kind of look, finished with a scarf and flats.

Not my normal ensemble on any given day, but this is not any normal day. And I won’t admit I have been fussing with my appearance for almost two hours, driving myself insane with nerves and indecision.

I touch up my neutral makeup and apply a lip gloss rather than my trademark red lip and scrutinise myself a little too closely. Obsessing, and I know I’m doing it because my nerves are on high alert and I feel ridiculously uncertain.

I look young, pretty girl, almost college student. Not sure I like the look but it’s definitely not screaming seduction of any sort, and I think at the back of my mind, that’s what I was aiming for in reality. I don’t look like I normally do and part of me wants to see if it makes a difference to him. Does a non-sexy and slutty Camilla still make him want to nail me?

Sex is a NO. It’s the one area where I’m not willing to leave myself vulnerable again. Yesterday was stupid and if he truly wants something between us, he will accept I’m taking it off the table, effective immediately. No end date in sight for the time being either. I can make do with BOB should I get horny, and well, I already know he hits the spot every time. You can’t beat a battery-operated boyfriend in times of need.

I walk out of my room, adjusting my jumper as he comes strolling in, right on time, looking unusually happy and bright and smiling my way. Alexi has gone full-on casual and I’m bitterly disappointed that he won’t blink twice at my attire. He’s in grey washed jeans and a tight blue T-shirt under a black leather jacket and a pair of leather boots. Completely casual and now I’m the one annoyed he didn’t make more effort. He doesn’t even look like he shaved and is sporting stubble on that normally clean-shaven face.

I have hit an alternate dimension.

It’s more Gino’s style than Alexi’s. If it wasn’t for that dragon tattoo peeking out at his collar and those grey husky eyes looking my way, I would swear the wrong twin was up here.

“You look cute.” He smiles at me as he bypasses and goes straight into his room without any appraisal. I swear it’s three words no woman ever wants to hear from the mouth of the man she’s dating.

What the fuck is cute when it comes to men?

Puppies are cute! Kid sisters are CUTE!

Women you want to bang senseless are never CUTE!

What the hell is with me? I seem to have more moods than a psycho with PMS and need to get a grip. I dressed down to annoy him, then get pissed because he did too, and now I’m getting hormonal and sulky because he called me cute. I swear I need a Xanax or something to level my emotions out.

If this is what a love confession from Alexi does to you, then maybe I should feign a headache and go to bed. I can feel disaster brewing with how weird I’m being and should really admit defeat before tonight ends in tears.

I thought him being ‘off’ would be my biggest hurdle, but it looks like this is all on me.

He reappears carrying a set of keys in one hand and a messenger bag in the other and I look him up and down quizzically. Student chic seems to be catching and I’m not sure I like it on him.

“You’ll need a warm jacket; we’re taking my bike.” He pulls his bag over his head, still not making any real attempt at checking me out and zips up his jacket while nodding towards my room, and I stare at him.

doesn’t mean one we pedal, not that either option is

and throws me that irritating wink before turning me and giving me a gentle shove to my room, dismissing the look of horror on my

maybe take your hair down, the helmet will only

I squeak and instantly feel faint. A cold wash

we crash.” The tone of his voice is way too

is trying to terrify me, and I’m frozen to the spot, gawping like a fool, skin turning cold with lack of blood that just pulls an evil laugh out of him. Mr Sadistic is still

thinking only of skidding along the road to certain death and leaving the imprint of my face on the concrete. I try to shake that visual out of my head, but

thing to do on purpose, and I cannot

like … an accomplished biker, right?” I stammer as I come back out, sounding like a total wimp, voice trembling lightly, pulling on my own leather jacket that’s a lot longer than his. Praying it covers all vital organs and saves

like a disobedient younger sibling who won’t do as they are told. Seems he thinks it is as he laces his fingers through mine

a little more firmly with him, so I yelp and almost

Arsehole.

back at me and I’m once again hauled behind him, rather aggressively for a guy attempting charm and adoration. I try to wriggle my hand free, but he holds on tighter and flashes me that look of his that says,

Wanker.

can strike ‘gentle’ off the list too then. Seems that part is not long lasting. Being manhandled like a piece of meat is not my idea of

ground floor button. It’s so rapid I cannot object nor take part; a

actually a thing.” I point out blandly. Another black cross on

you, so I’m guessing it’s not really a step too far to do it.” I get

a prick and not doing a great job of making me want to date you.” I huff and

reason. As for wanting to date me … looks like you’re here and coming with me, so I have

Arghh, PRICK!

become a negotiation? We had a no touching rule, remember? And it’s hard not to go out with you when you are dragging me along like a stroppy toddler.”

pretty much neutralises that arrangement.” He shrugs again, in a manly, smug manoeuvre, and

of wooing me? Not very

sickeningly sweet terms of endearment if you like, but then I won’t exactly be making myself transparent and as honest as I can for you.

up and down my outfit although no visible facial expressions to

slowly turning into one of those uncomfortable daymares.” I point out sarcastically and get an eye to the

chocolates, calling you Hunny Bunny or some other vomit inducing term. Just don’t complain when I have to beat people to level myself out a little. I can’t do nice without balancing it with something

a conversation, without breaking a sweat.” I smile at that, really seeing the funny in those words coming out of that mouth. Who knew that was

of me, and I realise our weird conversation has completely lightened my mood with how utterly ridiculous it is. I never thought this would be a topic I would ever have with him or that he could be this funny, and I’m not sure if he meant to be. He has my sense of humour; dry and sarcastic with a completely serious tone. I think I just fell in love with

glance and I open my mouth in outrage, immediately over the slight adoration

Sir, my arse. I would call you dickhead before I crawl at your feet and refer to you as my master.” I cross my arms moodily over my

bodily by my upper arm

so I’m utterly powerless to him and my legs give way. His body hard against mine and

me into oblivion, but I kiss him back. Tongues warmly sliding together, lips moulded as we find our rhythm. Churning my knickers

hot body that moulds to my curves in all the right ways. His knee slides between both of mine and he pushes himself against me in a very sexual way that leaves no room for misunderstanding. His thigh wedged high between mine

part of you while making love to your mouth and completely overwhelms

He knew what he was doing, and he is high fiving himself mentally that he got me how he wanted and submissive on every level. He doesn’t need me to call him Sir, he just reduced me to mush and completely overpowered

him under my

only assume we are on the ground floor and in full view of whoever

go, captures my hand as his prisoner once more and pulls me with him, even though my unsteady legs almost give out as soon as I’m released. We pass two security, dressed all in formal black, and a very amused looking Jackson who beams at me widely and

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