Call Me Crazy (Bellamy Creek #3) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,51

hated it.

But she was being uncharacteristically agreeable right now. It was fucking with me.

She drew up her knees on either side of my hips and traced my collarbone with one fingertip, then played with the hair on my chest. “You know, all things considered, this has been a pretty good wedding night.”

I grinned. “Oh yeah? Did I say all the right things?”

“I think so.”

“You think so? Give me something else. I’ll work it in.”

She tipped her head to one side and pursed her lips. “Hmm. Give me a line from Romeo and Juliet. Not the one about dying, please.”

“Okay. Let me think.” I racked my brain, trying to recall a line she would find more romantic. I had a good memory, but it had been fifteen fucking years. “I’ve got it,” I told her.

“I’m listening.”

“O my love, I’ve been really trying. Trying to hold back this feeling for so long. And if, perchance, you feel like I feel, then come on.”

“Enzo!” She splashed me again, her expression outraged. “That is not Shakespeare, that is Marvin Gaye!”

“But I changed it up a little,” I said defensively. “Made it sound fancy and shit.”

“You’re the worst.” She put her hands in my hair and pressed her lips to mine, her tongue slipping between them. “But you make me laugh.”

“I’m about to make you do more than that,” I said, reaching between us to touch her again.

She smiled against my mouth. “Let’s get it on.”

The sun peeked through the drapes the next morning, waking me up.

For a second, I forgot where I was, but as soon as I took a breath, I could smell Bianca’s perfume. I glanced over at her side of the bed, disappointed to find it empty, and then gradually became aware of the shower running in the bathroom. I checked the digital clock on the nightstand—it was just after nine.

Absently, I ran a hand over the rumpled sheets where she’d slept. We’d both fallen asleep fairly quickly after round four, probably around three in the morning. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much sex in one night. Maybe never. But I hadn’t been able to stop wanting her.

I’d had a hunch Bianca would be a firecracker in bed, and she was. Feisty, playful, attentive, generous. Even during sex, she liked to bite and tease and scrap, which was fine with me because the struggle only turned me on. And in the end she would always submit to me—why wouldn’t she, when it would result in an orgasm that, in her own words, “made the earth quake?”

My dick began to perk up, and I frowned, flopping onto my back again. This was pointless. The sun was up, the clause was expired, and the contract was back in place. What the hell was I doing anyway, caressing the sheets like a lovestruck idiot? I didn’t love her like that. I didn’t love anyone like that, and I didn’t want to. Love was confusing and messy and unpredictable. I wouldn’t build a house on a foundation of quicksand, would I?

Bianca came out of the bathroom, one towel wrapped around her body, another wrapped turban-style on her head. Her glasses were slightly foggy. “You’re up,” she said.

“I’m up.” Since I wasn’t sure where we stood, I quickly tried to adjust the sheet so my morning wood wasn’t obvious.

Too late.

“You’re really up,” she said, giggling at the tent my erection was creating.

“I always wake up this way,” I said defensively, because I didn’t want her to know thinking about her had me so hard.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask to play with your magic wand again,” she said, going over to her suitcase and kneeling down.

Okay. So we were back where we’d begun. Fine with me, although I felt anything but fine about it. I felt angry and resentful.

But I wouldn’t show it.

“Good,” I said, carefully getting out of bed and taking the sheet with me. Wrapping myself up in it like a toga, I headed for the bathroom, trying not to notice the way her ass peeked out from below the towel.

Bianca rose to her feet with clothes in her arms, a smile on her lips. “You don’t have to hide, Enzo. I’ve already seen what’s under the sheet.”

“I’m not hiding. I’m covering up. For your sake,” I added.

Her eyebrows shot up. “My sake?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t want you to get excited about something you can’t have. It would be like putting your favorite dessert on the menu but saying you