21
Brooke
“Pillows? You bought more pillows?” I asked Luca.
Eight more pillows, to be precise, four in cream satin cases, four in navy blue, all stacked neatly onto my new bed. Ed had delivered it yesterday evening along with the couch and chairs, which had at least given my lips a break from Luca’s kisses. Thanks to his five o’clock shadow, my skin felt decidedly chafed today. And it wasn’t just pillows that had magically appeared—yesterday, the windows had been bare in the bedroom, but now he’d hung drapes and laid a matching rug on the concrete floor.
“The pillows were your idea.”
“My id— Oh.” My traitorous cheeks burned, and I momentarily forgot how annoyed I was at Luca. “You really think that’s necessary?”
Was Luca that good in bed? I very much suspected the answer might be yes
