Chapter 158

I woke with a pounding headache, my arm encircled by Luca, something pressing against my lower back. The unfamiliar scent and surroundings triggered memories of last night, eliciting a silent groan. I had drunkenly called my boss from the club, cried to him about my problems, and then asked him to stay the night.

Could I just die?

I shifted, but Luca tightened his hold, making me acutely aware of my back against his chest.

Oh, God.

I needed to escape, just like the morning after our last encounter. Another shift, and the pressure against my lower back intensified; realization dawned. He had an erection. Oh, God.

To confirm my suspicions, I pressed my buttocks back, and he grew harder. My stomach churned, my core throbbed, my breath coming unevenly. Luca tightened his hold on my stomach, and I found myself wishing he’d move his hands higher.

Forcing those thoughts aside, I tried to get up, but he pulled me back. I wriggled until his hoarse voice filled the room: "I sincerely hope you knew what you were doing, because you've created a situation here."

I froze, hyper-aware that I was wearing only his T-shirt, bunched around my midriff, ending just below his hand. Below that, I was in soaking-wet underwear.

"I-I—" I stammered. "The 'situation' existed before I woke up."

I hated how flustered I sounded, while he remained unfazed. "It was morning wood. You rubbed your ass against it and turned it into a full-blown erection, fiorellina. Don't act innocent now."

His breath on my neck sent goosebumps down my exposed legs, tangled with his. I simultaneously craved his touch lower and recoiled from the idea. My internal conflict ended when his hold loosened. Instead of escaping, I remained rooted in place.

Memories of his fingers deep inside me, his dirty words filling the room, consumed me. The desire to repeat the experience was overwhelming. But I knew it was a mistake—getting involved with him. He was everything I should avoid: hot, older, seeking only a physical connection, and, not to forget, my father's friend.

I could not betray his trust further.

The thought of my father sobered me instantly, extinguishing my desire. In the battle between my head and heart, reason prevailed, and I forced myself off the bed.

"You're giving me blue balls, fiorellina," Luca called playfully, sending heat to my cheeks.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," I mumbled before locking myself in the bathroom.

I freshened up and put on last night's dress. Only after repeatedly calling Ronan, my idiot brother, waking him up, and asking him to pick me up, did I leave the bathroom. Luca was no longer in bed; I found him in the kitchen.

His eyes narrowed. "Why are you wearing last night's dress?"

"I couldn't leave in your T-shirt," I replied pointedly.

"You're leaving," he commented, a hidden meaning in his tone.

"It's Sunday, and you're back from a long trip. You should rest," I said with a hesitant smile. "I'm sorry I encroached on your space last night. And thank you for staying with me."

Luca's brows furrowed further. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" I echoed. "Nothing."

"You're different."

"No," I attempted a brighter smile, but failed. "I'm just nursing a hangover."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded.

"Breakfast?" he asked, gesturing to the pancakes on the stove.

"No, you've already done more than enough," I smiled. "This—this won't happen again. Thank you so much, and I'm sorry."

"Aurora," he breathed. "What?"

My phone buzzed.

"That's Ronan, my brother," I told Luca. "I should go."

Luca stared at me with an unreadable expression—narrowed brows, a worried gaze—before nodding.

"I'll see you at work on Monday. Have a nice day, Mr. Romano."

"You too, Ms. Whitlock."

The monotony in his voice stung, but I found peace in knowing this was right. A professional relationship was all we should have.

I offered a forced smile before leaving his suite and fleeing to the elevator. I was leaving a hotel in party clothes for the second time in a row, and this wasn't even a walk of shame, but the prying eyes were still annoying until I reached Ronan's car.

"This long? Seriously?" I hit the back of his head as I sat down.

"How about 'thank you'? I left a girl in my bed to pick you up because the princess didn't want an Uber."

I hit him harder, partly disgusted by his revelation and partly by his sarcasm.

"So?" my younger brother pressed. "Are we going to discuss why I'm picking you up from a hotel in last night's clothes, and why you left with your boss from my party?"

"Shut up," I clenched my teeth, avoiding his gaze. "Just drive."