Page 107 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

Angelo chuckled, seemingly unbothered by her quiet response. His hand moved higher while his other remained firmly on her thigh. There was something undeniably hot about the way his large hands gripped her, unlike any experience she’d had before.

“Allison.” He squeezed her thigh, pulling her back from her wandering thoughts. His eyes were patient, though she could feel the heat in his gaze.

“Well,thiscould be considered inappropriate,” she said, trying to sound more confident.

“Oh, could it now?” Angelo’s tone remained playful, undeterred by her haughty remark.

Allison’s frustration bubbled up. “Yes. You’re holding onto my thighs. And you’re very close. If anyone were to walk in—”

“If anyone were to walk in,” he interrupted with a smug grin, “they’d see exactly what’s happening right now.”

“And what’s that?” Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as Angelo’s breath fanned across her face.

“I’m taking care ofmy woman.”

The words hit her like a jolt. She’d never been called anything like that before. It was possessive in a way that was new to her, but coming from Angelo’s warm voice, it felt oddly… right.

“Your woman?” she echoed, her voice trembling.

He nodded, his hand inching closer to where she needed him, but pausing just before he touched her. Her panties were already ruined, and he hadn’t even done anything to her yet.

“You’re mine, Allison.” His gaze darkened, his grip tightening. “Maybe not officially, and I admit I didn’t plan on it happening like this, but you are mine. That’smybaby inside you. These aremyhands on you,myvoice making you hot and heavy,” he whispered, making her stop breathing altogether.

“But you—”

“What, sweet girl? I don’t know you?” He laughed darkly at her nod, a dangerous sound that stirred butterflies in her belly. “Didn’t I prove you wrong the other day? Let’s refresh your memory.”

Angelo’s hand moved again, finally touching her. The light brush of his fingers over her clothed center sent a jolt of electricity through her entire body, and she gasped.

“What are you doing?”

“I already told you. I’m taking care of my woman,” he said, his tone smug. His touch grew firmer, moving over her center in a teasing dance, playing with her, never really on the little bundle of nerves because of her stupid pants. She felt on the edge of bursting into flames, desperate for his touch. “Say the word and I’ll stop.”

He knew she didn’t want him to stop, knew she was ready to beg for more. The thought of having to say it aloud made her shiver.

“What will it be, Allison?”

He was so close now, almost there, and she needed him to touch her, to make her explode.

She caved.

“Touch me. Please, Angelo.”

Twenty-Six

ANGELO

“Touch me. Please, Angelo.”

Angelo couldn’t hold back the groan that escaped his lips. He’d been unraveling for days, his mind consumed by fleeting thoughts of her—how she’d finally be living under his roof, sharing his space, his world. The thought had ignited something dangerous inside him, a possessiveness that bordered on obsession.

And now, hearing her whisper his name, her tone drenched in that seductive plea, laced with desperation, pushed him to the brink.

It was that voice—soft, needy, and uniquely hers—that shattered his last thread of control.

He inhaled deeply, her scent of honey and lavender washing over him, intoxicating and unmistakable. It washer. Every fiber of his body responded, muscles taut, instincts sharp. He shut his eyes, fighting the urge to close the space between them.

But her brother was still downstairs.

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