Despite all of the compelling reasons to stay away from Carmela, I was already talking myself into pushing the boundaries if only this once. I wanted to know what her skin felt like beneath my fingertips and against me. I wanted to know what she tasted like, the sounds she made when she came apart, and so much more. It would take me hours to list the things I wanted to know about Carmela Trassato. Once the thought took root, it wouldn’t release its grip on me, and I succumbed to the urge to check a few things off the list.
Shifting closer to her, I framed her lower back with my fingers, mapping that stunning arc where her small waist swelled into her shapely ass. If she wanted me to leave her alone, I would without hesitation. Growing up with a single mom and a sister made me sensitive to forcing myself on a woman or making them uncomfortable.
I waited and watched…
Her eyelids lowered. Her breathing accelerated. Her hands cupped the side of my head and she slanted into me. Without words, she told me everything I needed to know. I pressed my mouth against her full wine-colored lips that somehow managed to be ten times headier than the drink they emulated.
Her lips quivered, her breath hitched, and her muscles tensed. She melded into me, her palms sliding down my face, traveling against the grain of my stubble and finally curling into the ends of my hair. She tugged on the roots, opened her mouth, and I was in. Her tongue twirled around mine, hungry and insistent. I tasted mint. I smelled lemons. I nipped at her lower lip, then pulled it into my mouth. Her breath sputtered. Her body trembled, and for the first time in years, I felt alive. More than alive.
My hands rounded her ass and skirted under the hem of her dress. Her skin was like silk under the pads of my fingers. Her flesh pebbled. Her heart pounded against my chest. A half-sigh, half-moan tumbled from her lips, and instead of checking things off my list and moving on with my life, every reaction only added to my drive to know more about this woman.
Her submission didn’t last long enough to quench my thirst. The second my fingers made contact with the lacy edge of her panties, she unwound her arms and retreated a few steps. Breathing roughly with her tits heaving, she trained her unfocused eyes on the floor.
“I think it’d be best if we skipped dinner,” she announced after more than a few painfully silent beats.
“We still have plenty of time until our reservation.”
“No. I need some space. In fact, we both do. Things got a little out of hand and we’re supposed to be finding a way out of the deal we made, not exploring each other.”
“I never promised anything.”
“No. You’re right. You didn’t.” She swallowed and her slim neck bobbed like she had difficulty completing the action. “Except the news of us will inevitably trickle back to Nico, and he won’t be happy. I think we should be a little more careful until we’re sure which way this will go.”
“I don’t give a shit about Nico.” The quicker the news of Carmela and me made it back to him, the quicker I could unwind this mess my dad concocted. If Nico found out, he’d want to make a deal that kept me far away from Carmela. Undoubtedly, marrying Carmela played a key role in his goal to secure more power in the Trassato family.
“Well, I do. I don’t like to hurt people, and Nico will think I’m playing with him if he finds out that we,” she waved her hand between us, “you know, and then there’s Rocco.”
Anger flared through me, eating at my gut. I pounded the palm of my hand against the wall and she recoiled. Here she was worried about Nico while my taste was still fresh on her lips. With nearly a hundred percent certainty, I knew Nico didn’t give a shit about Carmela beyond what she could offer him. He manipulated people and situations. He was a treasonous bastard. Everybody realized this except the Trassato family.
As for the Rocco comment, I couldn’t touch it. One, you couldn’t compete with a dead man’s memory. And two, Renzo had insinuated Rocco didn’t have a fucking halo over his head the entire time he’d been with Carmela. None of that was my business and nothing good would come of digging up dirt on Rocco except a shitload of hurt feelings that might never be resolved.
“You better get used to it because if this whole thing is going to work, Nico needs to have a pretty strong incentive to cut a deal that satisfies my dad.”
“You want Nico to find out about us?”
“Of course. What do you think this is about? He wants to marry you, and I’m pretty sure he’s our ticket out of this. He’ll fight for you. I know it. He needs you, or at least he thinks he does.”
“I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel right.”