Reckless Games (Reckless Mafia #1)

Chapter 15

Angela

I slowly woke up from a light nap, feeling the warmth of Lorenzo's body wrapped around mine. The afternoon light streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. I lay still for a moment, savoring the feeling of his arms around me and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my hand.

I found myself gazing up at Lorenzo's face. It was peaceful, almost vulnerable in sleep. I could not resist the urge to trace my fingers along his features, memorizing every line and curve. His strong jawline, the slight stubble that grazed my skin, the way his dark lashes fanned out against his cheeks.

My thoughts drifted back to the moments we had shared just hours ago. The way he had looked at me, the tender yet possessive way he had touched me. It was more than just physical; it was a deep, emotional bond that seemed to have been forged in those moments of intimacy.

My fingers traced his lips, recalling how they had felt against mine and the way they had moved with such passion. I felt a shiver of pleasure at the memory, my body still humming with the aftermath of our session. It had been my first time, and I could not have imagined it being more special. Lorenzo had been attentive, patient, and so incredibly gentle, making sure I was comfortable and cared for every step of the way. It was almost a surprise that a man so intense and rough like him could be so gentle with me.

“I know I’m handsome.” Lorenzo stirred slightly, taking me by surprise as his eyes slowly opened to meet mine. A slow smile spread across his face, and he reached up to cup my cheek. "Good morning, Angel," he murmured, his voice still husky with sleep. And that was how I finally experienced what I have only ever read in cheesy romance books about having butterflies in your stomach.

"Good morning," I replied softly, my heart swelling with affection as I leaned into his touch.

He pulled me closer, pressing a tender kiss on my forehead. "Did you sleep well?"

I nodded, a smile tugging at my lips. "I did. I was just thinking about... earlier." His eyes darkened with a mix of desire and tenderness.

"You were incredible, Angela. You made me feel things I didn't think were possible." I felt a blush rise to my cheeks at his words, my heart racing with the intensity of my emotions. He rolled us over so that he was hovering above me, his eyes locked on mine. "You're special to me. More than you'll ever know."

His words sent a thrill through me, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. It was soft and lingering, a promise of more moments like this to come. As we broke apart, I gazed up at him, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

Lorenzo gently shifted us so that I was nestled against his chest, my head resting just below his chin. He wrapped his strong arms around me. My fingers idly traced the intricate tattoo of a phoenix that covered more than half of his chest, marveling at how beautiful it looked on him.

"You smell amazing," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet room. "What do you do to smell so good?"

"It's just a mix of my favorite lotion and perfume," I replied softly, a smile playing on my lips. My body wash and shampoo also carried the same scent. "I like musky and dark scents. They make me feel calm, happy, and…” I hesitated, debating whether to reveal the real reason behind my choice of fragrance.

"And?" Lorenzo prodded gently as he looked down at me.

"And seductive?" I admitted, biting my lower lip and arching an eyebrow.

"Seductive, hm?" Lorenzo chuckled softly, his breath warm against my skin as he leaned down, inhaling deeply before pressing a kiss to the top of my head. His lips lingered there for a moment, and I could feel the smile in his voice when he spoke again. "Who are you trying to seduce, Angel?"

"I don't know," I replied innocently, a mischievous glint in my eyes as I looked up at him. "Did it work on you?"

Lorenzo lifted his head to meet my gaze, his eyes darkening as he grinned. "Well, judging by the way I'm addicted to it, I'd say it definitely more than just worked on me." I felt a flutter of happiness at his compliment, and my fingers continued their exploration of his tattoo.

"Lorenzo, what does this tattoo mean?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. "Why a phoenix?"

He was silent for a moment, his fingers stilling as he considered my question. Then he spoke, his voice deep and thoughtful. "The phoenix is a symbol of rebirth and renewal. It represents rising from the ashes, overcoming adversity, and becoming stronger because of it."

I looked up at him, my eyes searching his. "Does it have a special meaning for you?"

He nodded, his gaze distant, as if recalling a distant memory. "I got this tattoo after my mother died. I’ve never admitted it to anyone before, but I was very close to her, and she meant the world to me. It felt like my world had crumbled around me. I had to rebuild myself and become stronger to protect the people I care about. The phoenix reminds me that no matter what happens, I can rise again, stronger than before."

"What happened to her?" I whispered, my voice filled with emotion.

“She became the target of my father’s enemy when I was ten.” My breath hitched as he said those words. “I watched the whole time she tried to fight and save me. She passed away in my arms. That night, everything changed. That night I became the monster everyone is so scared of.”

His words resonated deeply with me, and I felt a surge of admiration for the man who had endured so much and yet remained unbroken. I knew how utterly devastating it was to witness a parent’s death at such a young age. I was not a stranger to that feeling. "You're incredibly strong. And I admire you so much for how strong you have become."

He looked down at me, his eyes softening with affection. "And you, Angela, have given me a reason to keep rising. You bring light into my dark life." His words brought tears to my eyes, and I leaned up to kiss him softly, pouring all my feelings into that kiss. When we pulled back, I rested my head against his chest again, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“Have you anything planned for today?” His question broke the peaceful silence.

"Nothing much," I murmured, nuzzling closer to him. "Just enjoying being here with you. What about you? What do you have on plate today?"

Lorenzo's smile was soft. "Today is a training day. I'll be with the men, honing their skills."

Excitement bubbled up within me at the thought of seeing Lorenzo in action, training his men. Would he be shirtless? Goodness, that would be an eyecandy for me. "I'd love to see how you train them," I said eagerly, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. "Do you think I could come along?"

His hesitation was evident, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered my request. "Angel, it can get a little... gruesome," he cautioned. "I'm not sure if it's something you'd want to witness."

I lifted my head to meet his silver eyes. ”I can handle it," I assured, my voice steady despite the fluttering of nerves in my stomach. "Plus, you forgot I was a trainee surgeon."

For a moment, he studied me, his expression softening as he traced a gentle touch along my cheek. Finally, he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Alright," he agreed, brushing a stray strand of hair away from my face. "But promise me you'll stay close to me and follow my instructions, okay?"

"I promise," I replied earnestly, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. His fingers found my hand, and his touch lingered on mine before he broke the silence. “What’s this?” he asked softly, his finger tracing over a barely noticeable mark on my left wrist. His tone was curious, but there was an underlying concern in his eyes.

I froze for a moment, unsure of how to respond. The mark was a reminder of a painful chapter in my life, one I rarely spoke about. Taking a deep breath, I gathered my thoughts. “You remember those bad guys I told you about, the ones I encountered after my parents’ accident?” I began slowly. Lorenzo nodded, his expression serious as he waited for me to continue.

“Well, they left me with a lifelong traumatic memory,” I continued, my gaze fixed on our intertwined hands. “This mark… it’s from that time.”

Lorenzo’s eyes darkened with anger, a deep furrow forming between his brows. “What did they use?” he asked sharply, his voice edged with fury. I hesitated, unsure whether to disclose the details.

“I…” I started, my throat tightening with the weight of the memories. “I’d rather not say.”

His hand tightened around mine, and his jaw clenched in frustration. “I asked you a question, Angela,” he insisted, his tone demanding an answer.

“They used a blade,” I finally admitted, my voice barely audible. “To leave a mark... to remind me.”

Lorenzo’s expression hardened as he processed my words. “I swear, Angela,” he muttered through gritted teeth, “if I ever find those bastards—”

“It’s in the past, Lorenzo,” I interrupted gently, reaching out to touch his face. “You don’t need to worry about them anymore.”

He took a deep breath, his features softening as he met my gaze. “I just hate knowing that you went through something like that,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “You’re so strong, Angela.”

His words warmed my heart, and I leaned into his touch. “When will you be leaving?”

“We have an hour to spare. Why?”

“How about we play 20 questions?” I suggested playfully. Lorenzo chuckled at my silly request. I could not help it. I wanted to know everything about this enigmatic man I found myself increasingly drawn to with every passing second. I wanted to know everything he liked, disliked, what he did in his spare time, etcetera, etcetera.

“Sure. Anything you want.”

“Okay, I’ll go first. What’s your favorite dish?” I inquired, genuinely curious about his culinary preferences.

“I’m not very picky,” he mused thoughtfully. “But I do love myself some Italian cuisine.”

“You’re just biased,” I teased, unable to resist a playful jab.

“Maybe I am,” he conceded with a smirk.

“Okay, your turn,” I prompted eagerly, wanting to hear more.

“Right, what is your favorite color?” Lorenzo asked, his eyes studying me intently. Caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze, I found myself momentarily lost in the depths of his silver eyes. A fleeting thought crossed my mind that I might have seen his pupils dilate ever so slightly, but I brushed it off as my imagination. Without hesitation, I blurted out my answer.

“Silver.”

“Silver? That explains your hair,” he remarked softly, his fingers gently tucking a loose silver strand of my hair behind my ear.

“What if I told you it’s not because of that?”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s your eyes,” I confessed, unable to tear myself away from his gaze. I felt a subtle shift in the air as his eyes seemed to darken slightly before he spoke.

“Ask me. My favorite color.”

“What is your favorite color?” I breathed, my heart fluttering with anticipation.

“Blue,” he answered without hesitation.

His response brought a smile to my lips, the warmth spreading through me like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“Okay, next question,” I ventured. His gaze softened as he tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “How many girlfriends have you had before?” I asked, my stomach fluttering with a hint of unease. He thought about his answer.

“None,” Lorenzo sighed, his words catching me off guard. Did he just say none? NADA? Surely, I misheard. It was impossible for someone like him to not have a girlfriend before.

“None?” I echoed, trying to process this revelation.

“I’ve never officially dated,” he clarified. “Never had the time or desire to.”

“Really?” I pressed, genuinely curious now. “Then how did you...”

“Take care of my needs?” He finished my sentence with a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Aren’t you curious?”

“What if I am curious?” I challenged playfully.

“I had a few callgirls,” he admitted. “But they had to follow strict rules—no touching, no kissing. I didn’t want any emotional connection like that with anyone.”

“No touching or kissing?” I mused, intrigued by his explanation. “How does that work?”

“It’s straightforward,” he explained casually. “From behind.” Oh . His words hung in the air, and I could not help but wonder where I fit into his guarded boundaries. He said he never wanted to develop that kind of connection with anyone. Was I a part of that? If I was, then why did he—

“What are you breaking your head about?” Lorenzo asked gently, sensing my inner turmoil.

“Nothing, just wondering,” I replied vaguely, unsure how to articulate my concerns. “You said you didn’t want that kind of connection with anyone,” I finally said, searching for clarity. “Then why did you...”

“Because you’re an exception,” he interjected firmly, his gaze locking with mine. “You’re the only exception.” His words washed over me like a warm tide, and my heart skipped a beat as I processed the weight of his confession. “I told you, you are special, Angela. Every time I see you, it’s like the world stops, and all I can think about is how incredibly lucky I am to have you in my life,” he continued, his voice filled with sincerity. “You consume my thoughts, my dreams, my everything. Loving you feels natural, like it’s what I was meant to do; what I was made for.” I struggled to find my voice as his heartfelt declaration enveloped me in its warmth.

“I never knew I could feel such a deep connection with another person until I met you,” Lorenzo confessed. “You’ve touched my soul in ways I never thought possible. Loving you is the most natural and fulfilling thing I’ve ever done.” His words washed over me, leaving me breathless and speechless. Did he just say he loves me?

“Yes, Angel,” he affirmed softly, as if reading my thoughts. “I never knew what true love was until I met you. I’m irrevocably in love with you, Angela Thompson. And I’m not saying this to hear it back. I’m saying this so you know what you mean to me and never doubt your place in my life. I love you, Angela.”

***