Page 109 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

Hiswoman. Probably writhing, soaked, impatient for him.

It wasn’t the time to dwell on morality or decorum. His brain scrambled for rationality, but the pull of her—her scent, her warmth, the memory of her body under his hands—drowned everything else out.

He reached the bedroom door, his pulse pounding in his ears as he steeled himself for what awaited him on the other side. The sight he was about to see. The taste of her on his lips.

Focus, Angelo,he reminded himself. This was exactly where he wanted to be.

He pushed the door open, ready to lose himself entirely.

Angelo dropped to his knees the moment he saw her.

Allison sat up against the headboard, arms crossed over her chest, legs casually crossed at the ankles, glaring at him with a fire that was unmistakable.

And, oh, she was naked.

Her breasts—full and swollen—rose and fell with her irritated breathing, the soft scoff that left her lips sending a jolt oftension through the air. Her thighs, thick and strong, hid what he wanted most, but his gaze lingered on the curve of her belly, more beautiful than ever.

“Oh, quit with the dramatics,” she said, rolling her eyes, her voice laced with impatience.

Angelo blinked, snapping out of the trance her body had cast over him. She was a vision, but he’d kept her waiting, and clearly, she wasn’t pleased.

Still, it took all his willpower to form a coherent response.

“You are magnificent,” he breathed, the awe in his voice genuine. He still couldn’t believe this woman—hiswoman—was baring herself to him, completely.

She blushed, despite the angry pinch in her brow. “Yeah, well, you were taking your sweet time. I had to take matters into my own hands.”

The idea of her touching herself, desperate for him, made his blood heat. But Angelo stayed on his knees, rooted to the spot by the door. “Oh, trust me, Allison,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, “I’ll be taking my sweet time with you.”

That line struck her like a match to gasoline. The anger in her eyes flickered, replaced by something hotter, more primal. A blush bloomed on her chest, spreading down, down, until it disappeared between her perfect breasts.

He could almost feel them in his hands, the weight of them, the softness of her skin.

“It doesn’t matter,” she huffed, glancing away, though her bravado was weakening. “You won’t be doing anything with me today, Angelo.”

“Sweet girl,” he murmured, his voice low, deliberate. She heard him, he knew she did. “Tell me what I must do.”

Her entire demeanor shifted. That smug, knowing smile spread across her face. She’d been planning this, trapping him in her little game. And now she had him exactly where she wanted.

“Crawl to me.”

Angelo’s lips curved into a smirk. So, this was how she wanted to play.

“Gladly,” he replied, his voice dark with promise.

Allison’s confidence faltered for just a moment, her breath catching as he lowered himself to the floor, hands pressing into the ground. “You should know better,” he continued, his eyes locked on hers, “than to think I’d ever be too ashamed to crawl to my woman.”

And with that, he began, each movement slow and deliberate, the space between them shrinking as the tension grew thicker by the second.

Her face flushed as he moved closer, slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. The fire in her eyes shifted, no longer just anger but something deeper, hotter.

“Stop calling me that,” she whispered, her gaze locked on him as he crawled towards her.

“That’s what you are, though, isn’t it?” His voice was laced with teasing now, though he felt the tension of their game wrapping around him like a noose. Every inch he crawled was agony, his heart pounding harder with each movement, his pants unbearably tight, threatening to rip at the seams.

Allison shook her head furiously, a stubborn defiance flashing across her face. He nearly scolded her for it but held back. “I belong to no one,” she insisted.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Allison,” he said as he reached the bed, his hands gripping the mattress. He climbed onto it, continuing his slow crawl toward her, eyes never leaving hers. “You belong to me. Your smiles and your tears. That brilliant, dark, twisted mind of yours, the one you get lost in for hours. Your obsession with pastel pink, every damn thing in your life touched by it. That crazy, beautiful laugh that lights up my dayevery time I hear it. Your sass, your anger, and yeah, even your daddy issues.”

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