Page 60 of Caesar DeLuca
“You haven’t let me install an alarm and surveillance system.”
“I never asked you to.”
“It was a kind gesture. My way of showing appreciation for what you did for me.”
“I never asked you to,” I repeat myself in a breathless tone. He’s inched even closer and made it harder to stand firm. I take two wide steps back and point at the front door down the hall. “You need to go. I’ll tell you the same thing I told Mr. Craig—it’s late and you have a long drive ahead of you.”
“Where were you and what were you doing? Why did Craig have to tow back your car?” he asks as if I haven’t said a word. He seizes hold of my wrist to keep me from backing away any further. “Tomorrow I’m going to have the company return. They’re going to redo your entire security system, including installing an alarm. I’m going to send a mechanic to take care of your car. I don’t want you around that guy again. He’s no good.”
I yank my wrist out of his grasp. “Caesar, you have to go! None of this is your concern!”
“Of course it is. Now that I know you’ve been lying about going out at night, I’m going to keep a closer eye on you. Do you realize, if you disappeared it would take days for someone to know you were gone? This is why it’s not a good idea for you to live like this,” he explains, a vexed scowl about him. “You have no means of protecting yourself. You don’t seem to realize there are vultures circling around you—like this Craig guy—and they’re going to take advantage.”
“Caesar, stop!”
“You don’t like being told what to do. But I’ll take care of it all.”
“It was over, remember?!” I yell. “We agreed that we were going to go our separate ways. Me here, keeping my peace of mind. You back in your crime world. That’s what you said had to happen. You have no right to show up months later and tell me what to do!”
“I have every right to do that.”
“And what gives you that right?”
“Because you’re—” he growls, then cuts himself off. His gaze narrows with frustration, as if he’s realized he came so close to saying something he shouldn’t. His scowl deepens in the same way, his teeth gritted.
A second passes where we do nothing but glare into each other’s eyes, stuck in some kind of limbo, before tension explodes.
Caesar pulls me into a kiss so desperate you’d think I’m the air he needs to breathe. The way his mouth seals over mine and he holds me against him, I’m questioning if it’s true. The air in my lungs is stolen from me. Gone like it never existed as I react on instinct.
My arms loop around his shoulders and my fingers slide into the tufts of hair on the nape of his neck. I let him take the lead, forgetting that I had ever intended on putting up a fight.
None of it matters anymore.
We’ve crossed the line and broken the seal.
His kiss rocks through me, knocking my peaceful little private world asunder. The calm evenings reading books and playing solitaire feel like a different woman as he backs me up against the console table in the hall and then lifts me off my feet.
I’m deposited on top, my thighs shoved apart. I’m practically gasping for air, eyes wide, staring at him like he’s a mad man. He fits the role in this moment, his expression dark and hungry. He steps into the gap between my thighs and then grabs a fistful of my curls to angle my face toward his.
I’m hot and flushed as we pause long enough to listen to our shaky, labored breathing.
It fills the silence in the second leading up to his kiss. His mouth lingers over mine, the temptation rising until it really is like we need each other for air.
The lead up makes my pussy throb. It makes me acutely aware of how I’ve craved his touch every moment he’s been gone. I might’ve shut it out and refused to think about it, but I can’t pretend for another second.
Caesar’s having the same thought. His hardened stare can’t hide what it is he really wants.
At least for this moment we’ve spontaneously decided to indulge in.
Me.
Caesar’s fingers tighten in my curls and he crashes his lips to mine. We pick up where we’ve left off only seconds ago, except more desperate. More impassioned. More indulgent in every possible way.
I tug on the hair on Caesar’s nape and revel in how he knows just how to kiss me. Just the right level of aggression and roughness. That mafia capo dominance shines through as he kisses me firmly and his hands wander my body. He squeezes my curves with an appreciation I’ve never experienced before.
It makes me forget I’ve ever been self-conscious about how fleshy my thighs are or the rolls on my stomach.
Caesar loves every damn curve of mine. They turn him on to the point he’s barely able to contain himself.
