Page 120 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

But would he call me his if it didn’t mean something?

She was about to ask when she noticed something odd—Angelo was no longer in her line of sight. Instead, she felt his warm breath on the back of her neck, sending a ripple of goosebumps down her spine.

When did he move?

Somehow, without her noticing, he had closed the distance between them, his arms now bracketing her against the cool marble countertop. All while she was too caught up in her own little whirlwind of thoughts to even notice.

“What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours,omorfiá mou?” His voice was barely above a whisper, yet the words seemed to land straight in her chest, where they nested.

Allison cleared her throat, trying to steady herself while inhaling his scent—a mix of mint and leather. Odd, but somehow it fit him perfectly.

“Nothing,” she lied.

He chuckled against her back, his chest rising and falling in time with her rapid pulse. “I can practically see the gears turning, Allison.”

Heat crept up her neck. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” His voice was soft, almost gentle—a contradiction to everything about him.

She swallowed hard. “Earlier.” The word slipped out, her voice lower than she intended.

Angelo hummed, leaning in just enough for her to feel his presence, his warmth, though he kept his weight off her. She loved the way he surrounded her, without overwhelming her.

“Were you picturing my head between your legs?” His lips brushed the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “Or maybe you were thinking about how I bent you over and you made you take it like a good girl.”

Oh God.

She wasdefinitelythinking about it now.

“No, I’ve got it. You were thinking how I fucked you in the shower, holding you up with nothing but my hips, weren’t you?”

A moan escaped her, louder than she meant for the stillness of the night.

His chuckle was darker now, the playful edge sharpened. His hands left the countertop, grazing lightly along her sides, and her breath caught in her throat.

“What are you—” Her voice caught in her throat, thick with something unmistakable: pure, unfilteredlust. “What are you doing?”

“I’m thinking of enjoying a little appetizer while the main course finishes cooking.” He spun her around on the stool—thespinningstool she hadn’t realized was revolving.Damn you, fancy furniture.“And maybe,” his voice dropped lower, “I’ll have dessert too.”

Her thighs squeezed together instinctively.

Before she could form a response, Angelo’s hands were on her waist, effortlessly lifting her onto the kitchen island. Then, he settled into the stool she had just vacated, like a man about to indulge in a multi-course meal, getting comfortable for what was to come.

This man is going to be the end of me.

“Now,” he teased, “the timer’s set on the food, and I plan to make you come at least twice before it goes off.” His large hands moved to her thighs, spreading them apart with deliberate ease.

Allison swallowed hard. “Tw—Twice?” she stammered, sounding ridiculous but too far gone to care. Not when he was looking up at her like she was his last meal before crucifixion.

He nodded, a dark smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “At least twice. You’ve unleashed something inside me, Allison, and it. Is.Ravenous,” he growled, eyes glinting with wicked intent.

Suddenly, she understood exactly what kind of magic he meant.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of her sweatpants, his voice a low command. “Up, sweet girl.”

Without thinking, she obeyed.

He slid her sweats off slowly—torturously—and Allison’s breath grew heavier with each passing second. She had never been particularly sexually active, partly by choice but mostly because of her own insecurities.

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