The Carrero Effect Trilogy

Chapter 23

“Wake up, Bambina, we’re almost there.” Jake’s mouth hovers over mine, his breath soft on my skin. I yawn and stretch out in the seat beside him, confused that I’m in a car, not the plane. I look up and around quickly as I sit up fast.

“How the …?” I’m seriously confused. We’re in a limo, and the scenery outside is tropical.

“You fell asleep on my lap. I carried you to the car. We’ll be at the port in a couple of minutes.” He smiles at me, stroking back my hair from my face. “You look beautiful when you sleep, Bambina. Completely at peace and cute as a button.” My face heats as the blush rises; I don’t know why I’m always surprised when Jake is so sweet, so non-Carrero. I knew he could be this way even when I was only his PA, but he’s definitely upped the ante since telling me he loved me. With fewer sexual references and more adorable ones, he makes me feel desirable and beautiful like I’m floating on top of the world.

As for sleeping in peace, I learned long ago that sleeping anywhere near him put an end to my night terrors. I don’t wake with dark shadows looming over me when he’s close by, protecting me even in my dreams.

“Are we in the Caribbean already?” I rub my eyes and sit up in the seat to look out the window. Despite the air conditioning blowing on full, I can tell we’re in a warmer climate; there’s stuffiness in the car.

“It’s only a four-hour flight. The yacht’s already docked here. My father likes to come out here often, so we have a permanent mooring.” He hauls me back to him, pulling me into an embrace. “I missed you while you were sleeping.” He grins before sinking a kiss on me that fully wakes me up.

Will this burning desire he ignites ever calm down? I feel like I may self-implode every time his lips meet mine.

Moving against him fully, absorbing myself into the sensation of his kiss, I feel his hands come up around my face and tangle in my hair. We always seem to ignite passion quickly. He pulls away to lock eyes with me again, simmering the heat between us.

“I never told you how much I love your hair. I could run my fingers through it like this for an eternity.” He smiles softly again, melting the last ounces of me, and I beam back. I smile and flick my hands through the short waves with a wink as the car comes to a slow stop. Cutting my hair had been a huge change for me, and now obviously, one of my favorites.

“We’re here.” He nods with a raised brow before turning to slide out of the car and helping me out after him. The sun immediately blinds me as heat engulfs us, and I feel him slide his shades onto my face. The gesture, so normal, so typical boss Carrero, makes me grin and hug him like a child. This tiny detail, this caring mannerism, has been so vacant in my life of late that its return makes me stupidly ecstatic.

He drapes his arm around my back and walks me through the marina, leading me along a concrete walkway past some expensive-looking boats until we come to the familiar Rosalina, the beautiful, long, white yacht belonging to his family.

This boat held only heartbreak for me the last time we were here when he left me alone; I shiver at the memory. He’d gone off with God knows how many women to put distance between us, to try to forget how he felt about me.

As though sensing my memories, he kisses me on top of the head and squeezes me.

“Erasing the past … remember?” He nudges me and leads me on board by the hand, our fingers entwined as if they belong together.

***

The last few days have been like some erotic fantasy with endless days of sex, sunbathing, and frolicking in the sea. We’ve been wrapped up like a couple on their honeymoon. He was right about coming away; we needed this time to be together and get used to our new roles as a couple and no longer fight our feelings. Time to heal the hurt. It’s been more about bonding and getting comfortable, talking through the misunderstandings, and just learning to co-exist in a new dynamic, uninterrupted, with eyes only for each other, time just to be.

On the rare occasions when we’ve left our bedroom, we’ve been swimming, sunbathing, reading, and eating on the loungers on the upper deck. The staff has given us space, and it feels like we’re on the cruiser alone. I guess Jake has given orders to be left in peace since we tend to have sex wherever he sees fit. We’ve christened every sun lounger, flat space on deck, and most of the boats' rooms.

As I’ve learned, Jake’s sex drive is never fading; it has kept us up late almost every night and in bed until late every morning. He’s made love to me several times every day until my body constantly tingles and glows with his attention. I never knew it could feel this way, be this way, that someone could make me believe I am so desirable and beautiful, or that I could trust a man enough to let him do any of this to me. I would never have guessed that I’d have any reason to appreciate his past, littered with affairs and constant one-night stands, but now I see its benefits. He’s honed his skills for years, and now I’m reaping the rewards with a competent lover.

With his lack of inhibition in trying new things and his superior confidence in being able to pleasure the female body, he’s shown me so many ways I can be pleasured. He’s taught me so much in such a short time, taking me forward into my own journey of sexual awakening, as I trust him more than I ever thought possible. I’m finding confidence in being in my own skin. He has a way of taking away my shy awkwardness and replacing it with a hot, wanton version of myself who wants to be adventurous. I’m flowering beneath his capable hands, coming into my own, learning new things, and growing within myself. I’m finally putting part of my past to bed in ways I never thought I could, but it’s because of him. The trust and love I have for him make me capable of it; he’s healing me just by loving me.

Our relationship has come on so much further than I would have imagined it could. Talking endlessly about things we like, hate, small talk, and life in general. Even before, when I thought we were the closest friends, we never had the conversations or laughs we’ve had the last few days. We talk about the vaguest things and laugh at each other’s lame jokes, and we have grown closer than I ever thought possible. I feel like I’ve finally gotten to know him in ways denied me previously, the inner workings of his mind, and how he truly feels.

I’ve learned that Jake isn’t all the ‘Mr. Confident’ he portrays, and his humor is sometimes used to cover what he’s really feeling. All those endless jokes and sexual innuendos were his way of testing the waters, probing to see if I loved him back, this childish part of him that I would sometimes see, so at odds with the alpha male everyone else saw. He has insecurities about love too, and about himself, but he always seems able to shrug them down, ignoring them for the most part and letting his stubborn nature tramp all over them. Letting me in and letting us happen has revealed a whole new side to him, a vulnerable and scared side, the part of him who was too afraid to tell me he loved me. And it makes me want him all the more.

We’re not so different after all.

Jake has opened up about things that I never knew. He’s never shy about being honest with me and coaxing me to question him on anything I want to know. I’ve met the gentle, attentive lover, the guy forever touching me, cuddling, holding hands, and kissing me. With me, he’s patient now, never pushing me to talk about things anymore, giving me time just to let it happen, and not saying anything when I can’t. He tells me he knows it will take time, and I’m floating in the clouds for now.

* * *

It’s late afternoon, and I’m pacing on the upper deck in a mix of agitation and anger. I’m filled with a turmoil of emotions, and I want to scream.

“I’m not talking to you!” I pout childishly, rage beginning to grow inside me at his confession. Turning away from him on the boat's main deck, I pull my sarong tightly around my waist and tie it off with an angry tug.

“Bambina, please.” He tries to catch my arm, but I storm away. He stifles a laugh and comes at me again, “You’re really mad at me?” He sounds like he’s in disbelief that I could actually be angry over this.

I forgot how obtuse he could be.

He catches my face in his hands, trying to bring me to him, and croons at me softly, his baby voice coming on strong. It only makes me madder, so I shove his hands off and glare at him.

“Baby? Bambina? Don’t be like that.” He tries to kiss me, sucking my bottom lip seductively, but I shrug him off and bat him away. His doe-eyed, faux boyish look is completely lost on me while I’m furious beyond words.

Forget it, Carrero. That does nothing for me right now.

“Go away, leave me alone,” I snap and walk toward the metal railing of the boat. I want to smack him over the head; instead, I grip the railing with a vengeance until my knuckles turn white. He has no idea how insane he can make me.

He had no right to interfere without even asking me. He should have told me long before now.

“Emma? You didn’t want him in your life. I did what I thought you’d want. He wanted money, so I gave it to him on the understanding he would stay away.” He catches my arm this time and hauls me around to face him. “Il mio tesoro, bambina, ti amo.” He’s trying to sweet-talk me.

“Fuck off with your fancy foreign words,” I spit childishly, pushing him away, my hands flat on his exposed torso. “I can’t even speak Italian, so for all I know, you’re calling me names!” I try to tug my arm out of his grasp, but he only pulls me closer, smiling indulgently as though I’m a child throwing a tantrum. In a way, I feel like one and could easily stamp my feet all over his right now. I’m seething.

“Do you want to see him?” he asks, trying a different approach to distract me from what he’s done. He raises his eyebrows in question, and I hesitate.

Not a chance, Carrero. I’m seething with you!

“No! But it still gave you no right to pay off that asshole. He’s my biological father; it should have been up to me to cut him off for good.” I give up trying to pull my arm free and turn my body away, so I don’t have to look at him as tears fill my eyes.

“Okay, you’re pissed because I didn’t tell you. You’re right. I did it without consulting you. But at the time, Emma, you were only my PA, and we could barely talk about this stuff without you storming off and clamping shut,” he says, pleading his case as he strokes back my hair and turns my face to him. He sounds remorseful, but I’m not done being angry about this.

Doesn’t he see how much this hurts me? It’s not what he did, but rather that my biological sperm donor father happily took his money and agreed never to contact me again for the rest of my life. Jake is getting my rage, but it’s my father I’m seething at.

“How much?” I snap, still facing away from him. “How much money did you give him? How much did you flush down the toilet?” I snap, my heart crumbling in agony as it all starts to sink in.

I suspect he would have happily taken a couple of thousand dollars to walk away. He was that pathetic.

What was I worth? Ten thousand at the most? Less? He would have agreed to a meager five hundred when he approached me not so long ago.

“I gave him what I thought was a reasonable amount to stay away. I didn’t give him a chance to ask for an amount; it would have pissed me off more.” He smooths my hair back again, pausing as I shrug him away and only continuing when I am still, persistent in trying to tame me.

“What am I worth then?” I retort, emotion breaking in my voice as pain sears through my chest like a hot spear.

Do I even want to know? Could it be any more humiliating than this?

“I would have given him millions, baby. To me, there’s no limit to your worth. My lawyers gave him $500,000 and made him sign a contract agreeing to stay away indefinitely,” he says, so matter of factly.

I spin around in shock, blanching at him.

“You gave him how much?” I choke as my body turns cold.

That’s half a million dollars! Jake gave that slimy weasel half a million goddamn dollars?

The blood drains from my face.

Why would he do that? Why would he give him so much money? For me?

“I would have given him twenty times that much if he’d refused to go,” he says tenderly, “To me, you’re priceless. There isn’t enough money in the world to make me walk away from you. I hoped he would put up a fight.” He smooths my hair again. I don’t pull away this time, too busy with my eyes glued to his face, my brow creased.

“Jake, that’s so much money.” I am bewildered, shaking my head at his shrug. I can’t get over the shock and the disbelief.

“It’s just money, baby.” Jake turns me in his arms, so I face him fully. Loosely draping his arms around my shoulders with his hands hanging down behind me, he rests his arms out straight on my slender frame.

Only someone with too much money could make a statement like that!

“You didn’t have to; you’re crazy.” I stare down at his abdomen, a place to focus while calming my rambling thoughts. His tanned, naked skin is a good focus point, and I inhale steadily to calm myself.

“Get used to it; I haven’t even shown you half the crazy things I get up to.” I glance up at his humorous tone and shake my head at his smile. As an adrenaline junkie and racing car addict, I’m sure I could guess what he means. I exhale it all away.

“He took the first offer, right?” I ask, swallowing down the pain my question gives me, trying to numb the biting lump of heaviness in my stomach and sniff the watery emotions away, refusing to break over that man.

“Yes, he did! They low-balled what I told them to give him because they figured he would negotiate an amount above that. He didn’t.” He’s angry at the memory. His eyes change to the darkest greens, betraying his rage under his scowl. “He’s lucky he never met me face-to-face.”

I turn away this time, his arms sliding away as my emotions well up from somewhere deep inside, and a tear trickles down my face despite my efforts.

I can’t believe Jake gave him half a million dollars. I wasn’t even his girlfriend; I was only his PA. He did that for me anyway, regardless of everything else we had going on back then. My Carrero. He is so stupidly rich, sometimes, he’s on a different planet from me.

“I’m not really mad at you, Jake,” I sniff. “Well, I am now I know how much money you threw away. I’m mad at him.” Caving as his arms come around me from behind, his face nuzzling my neck, I cry softly. I cover his hands with my own and savor the feeling of him around me. He has no idea how it feels to have someone who’s supposed to love you from birth reject you repeatedly.

My father used me as a way to get money. I always knew he would; I just didn’t think Jake would be the one to give it to him.

“I wish you could see how little that guy deserves even to call you his daughter. He’s scum. He’s nothing. The money was nothing, Dolcezza. It was worth keeping him out of your life and stopping him from causing you more pain. I hated him upsetting you, and he never once got to know anything about you, did he? If he had, then there isn’t anything in the world that could have torn him away from you because you’re amazing. You deserved a real father - someone who would have done anything to be in your life. He’s not that guy, and it’s no reflection on you, Bambina, trust me,” he says calmly, tenderly, breathing against my neck softly.

“Just stop doing things like this without telling me,” I scold, but there’s no anger anymore, only deflation in my voice. Sadness always makes me tired.

“I’m sorry, Bella. It was before you were mine. I did what I thought you needed me to do as your friend. I won’t keep anything from you ever again. I promise.” He kisses my neck, and I close my eyes, relaxing into his touch, softened by how he always knows how to calm me and stop my mind from overanalyzing myself into desperation.

I shift in his arms and fully hug him, savoring his naked skin on my bikini-clad body. Hot, smooth, and strong. Tingles and aches flow through me so easily, taking my mind far from the topic, hurting me, and my insides responding on some primal level.

“Make me laugh. Distract me,” I whisper against him, indicating that I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I don’t want to think about that creep any longer. I bury my face against his chest.

For the last few days, making me laugh is all he’s done. Even over stupid, tiny disagreements, he somehow manages to take it away and get me to smile and laugh. I want that more than ever right now, to remove this heavy knot in my stomach at the realization my father was the scum I always believed him to be, the disappointment I always knew he was.

Moving suddenly, he bends down and picks me up and over his shoulder swiftly, making me squeal. Holding my thighs with a strong arm, he strides to the side of the boat. He opens the railings and jumps into the ocean, taking me with him, sarong and all, even his sunglasses nestled on top of my head.

“I said ‘laugh,’ not ‘drown’!” I cough, grinning and spitting out warm salty water when we resurface. He has his arms around me lightly, treading water so we stay afloat, wiping droplets from his face. Devilish and grinning, his hair is infuriatingly still in place, the boyfriend with the indestructible hair. I really should investigate Carrero grooming products.

“You’re smiling, so I got it half right,” he grins, kissing me solidly. “Want to have sex in the sea?” He pulls my body closer to him so my legs are around his waist and my arms are around his neck. He feels hot, smooth, and inviting even in the cooler water.

“Again? Oh, if we must,” I answer demurely as if it’s the most boring request known to man, but my body is clenching in anticipation, and I have a huge grin on my face.

The best way to get over an upset is to have my fit and sexy Jake make love to me. It works wonders every time.