I had missed it,” he says.
“Why, though?”
“Why what?” God, his voice is deep. It vibrates.
“Why’d you want to see me?”
His mouth softens and his eyes bleed things that make me feel as if this can’t be real. “Don’t ask that.” I can see his arm and shoulder moving as he pumps himself, but I won’t look down again.
“What would you say if I did?” I ask him.
I’ve lost my mind. I know that.
“I’d say things I can’t take back. And you’d regret it.” He inhales and blows it slowly out as he looks at his hand around his perfect Luca cock, the one that haunts my dreams and wakes me in a pool of slick want when I least expect it.
“Oh, I think regret is our thing, don’t you?”
His eyes shut. “Maybe it is.”
His breaths are coming faster. I can’t hear them, but I see how hard he’s breathing. What would he do if I touched him?
I close my eyes. The room feels as if it’s spinning. Then I open them and let them find his. And I reach out and touch that little white line on his shoulder.
I trace the scar and then his collarbone, as his face twists and he lets out a soft groan. I touch his throat—oh God, this throat I used to suck and lick—and run my fingertip along one of his pecs. And his whole body trembles.
I look up at him, into the blue eyes that are always in my heart’s kaleidoscope. Then I lean in closer…kiss the hollow of his throat. It’s just a brush of my lips. Then a soft lick.
His body bucks like he just grabbed a power line. I bite his wet skin, and he moans like he might come from just that. Then he snatches me up roughly, tossing me over his shoulder. The world trembles as he carries me to his room.
14
Luca
I toss her on the bed and take a step back. “Go home! Fucking shit, Elise, I gave you an out!”
She sits up—her face going from shocked to hurt, and then to angry. “Yes, I didn’t want one! If I did, I wouldn’t be here!”
I sink my hand into my wet hair, tugging as my heart pounds. “What do you want?”
She looks like a righteous angel, with her brown eyes flashing and her fuck-me lips pursed, her shoulders rising and falling as she stares at the dresser in front of the bed. Then she pulls the tie out of her hair, letting it fall like a dark cape around her shoulders. Her face is unreadable.
“I want you to get in bed, under the blankets,” she says softly. “Let me lie beside you.” Her gaze comes home to mine, a touch of fire before she fixates on that dresser again. “I can smell you. And you smell the same. Isn’t that weird?” She makes a strangled laugh sound, her eyes still glued to the dresser.
It’s not weird, I want to say; it’s fucking crazy. I don’t even know if crazy is a good enough word for how it feels to be in the same room as her. I look at la mia rosa, sitting on my bed in her long, wine red coat and plaid sleep pants. Straight out of a dream—or nightmare. All she has to do is slap me around, and it’ll be a little bit of both.
I turn my back to her, stepping over to an old-ass corduroy armchair. I unzip the black bag in it and rifle for some boxer-briefs as I war with myself. Inhale…exhale. Do the right thing—for once. I grit my molars, shut my eyes, and force myself to say it. “You need to go.”
I make sure my tone’s a warning, even as my balls ache and my dick is standing at attention.
“Oh, is that right? You’re saying you don’t want me here?”
I close my hand around a pair of boxer-briefs and picture her standing up. I can barely breathe for waiting for a glimpse of her in my periphery—dark hair trailing as she flies out the bedroom door, then out the back door, over the snow…
I release the breath I’m holding, squeeze my eyes shut until I see spots. “Not what I said.”
“So what is it you’re saying?” she chirps. “Are you trying to tell me what I need?”
There is nothing hotter than adult Elise in prosecutor mode. I’m so hard I don’t know how I’ll stuff myself into these underwear. I do, though—because I have to put a stop