Page 28 of Mafia Billionaire's Surprise Baby

And he’s two inches from my face.

And he’s looking at me with those wide, brown eyes that seem to see inside my soul…

Before I know what’s going on, my arms are moving. I undo the belt of the criminally soft robe, and my arms are pulling through the sleeves.

I’m still not even aware of it when Sal lifts me up onto the counter, ensuring that I sit on the robe so my butt doesn’t hit the cold marble.

Thank the Baby Jesus himself that I didn’t take off my panties.

Or maybe I should have.

No. Gia. No, no, no.

Aside from our admittedly very sexy situation, Sal is doing his level best to make it as unsexual as possible. He’s examining my side, his eyes about a centimeter from my skin.

“Do you think you cracked a rib?”

No. “I definitely didn’t crack a rib.”

“Okay. I’m going to touch you and if it hurts, let me know.”

I gulp.

His hands are so big. Like, he shouldn’t ever walk into a glove store, or they’ll all simply faint from witnessing hands this size.

They skate up my rib cage toward my breasts, which, while encased in a lace bra, are not exactly hidden.

It’s lingerie. It’s sexy. I like to wear sexy underwear.

I can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing right now.

But, should Sal decide to notice, he’d see my nipples hard beneath the lace fabric, and he’d see that there are goosebumps rioting over the skin on my chest.

When his fingertips touch my naked side, I bite back a groan.

“When I put pressure here, does it hurt?”

He squeezes lightly.

No, but it makes me think of how easy it would be for you to lift me up and flip me over.

“No,” I whisper.

“What about here?” his hands raise up higher, his fingertips skimming the edge of my lace bra.

“Not there,” I say. God, my voice sounds hoarse. It’s a miracle Sal hasn’t picked up on the fact that I’m practically panting on the countertop in front of him.

I have been through hell. I was literally in a burning warehouse once. I not only survived Fyre Fest, but I made money off of people who wanted to leave on my private jet.

I can make it through Sal touching me like I’m made of porcelain.

I promise myself it won’t break me. No matter how badly I want to be broken by him.

“What about on your back?”

Oh no.

He leans forward, tucking my hair over one of my shoulders so he can see down my back. Unfortunately, now he’s really close to me. His chest brushes mine as he peers over my shoulder, his fingers working their way over the muscles of my back.

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