Page 139 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

Balancing the tray in one hand, he made his way upstairs and pushed open the door to their bedroom. The sight of Allison peacefully sleeping in their bed filled him with an overwhelming sense of contentment. And, of course, his cock twitched in excitement at the thought of their life together.

Keep it together, man.

He’d been practically celibate these past three weeks, refusing to even touch himself because, honestly, nothing compared to the feeling of Allison’s warmth. No one else could even make him remotely interested. She was his everything. There was no chase, no looking around. He was done. He was hers, heart and soul, and he was going to make sure she knew that soon.

Angelo set the tray down on the bedside table before sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. He leaned in, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest with a satisfied smile. Her scent—honey and lavender—was intoxicating. He cursed quietly as his cock stirred again.

So much for self-control.

He took a deep breath, trying to reign in his desire. His body wanted to wake her up in themostinappropriate way, but heresisted the urge. There’d be time for that conversation—about boundaries and, well, fun consensual activities—soon enough.

“Allison,” he whispered, voice soft, “wake up, sweet girl. Time for breakfast.”

At the sound of his voice, his mind flickered back to that day in the kitchen, and suddenly he had a much different idea of what he wanted for breakfast.

Allison moaned softly in her sleep, and Angelo grinned. He’d learned that Allison loved her sleep almost as much as she loved her lattes, and that was saying something.

He ran a hand gently through her hair, and she moaned again, this time with a hint of something deeper, more primal. It sent a thrill through him. Even half-asleep, she responded to him, and helovedthat.

His hand traveled down to the base of her neck, fingers barely brushing against her skin. He wrapped his hand around her throat, teasingly, just as he had in the shower that one time. He waited, watching her reaction carefully.

She moaned again, eyes still closed, but she shifted slightly, pushing her neck into his hand. He didn’t squeeze, not wanting to cross any lines while she was still asleep, no matter how much he wanted to wake her with more… intense methods.

“Allison,” he said again, a little louder this time, pulling his hand back to avoid any chance of startling her. “Xúpna, omorfiá mou,” he coaxed, urging her to wake up.

At the soft flutter of her eyelashes, Angelo’s heart skipped. She let out a small, sleepy sound, half-whine, half-moan, and his cock instantly hardened.

She rubbed a hand over her eyes and mumbled, “What time is it?”

Angelo glanced at the bedside clock. “Just past eleven.”

Her eyes slowly opened, revealing those gorgeous jade green irises he’d missed so much. For the past three weeks, he’d barelyseen her, and he was going to make sure her father paid for that. But not now. Right now, he only cared about one thing: Allison Pink Lockwood.

His fingers traced a gentle path over her skin, trailing downward until they reached her core. She gasped softly at his teasing touch, her body responding immediately. He knew he was torturing her—hell, he was torturing himself—but he couldn’t stop. He loved the sweet sounds she made.

He slid one finger over her clit, and—

“It’s my fucking birthday!”

Angelo yanked his hand back like he’d been caught stealing as his sister Katerina burst into the room like a hurricane.

At first, Angelo was angry. His little cockblock of a sister had interrupted what was bound to be an utterly scrumptious meal.

But then confusion hit. There was no way Katerina was right. Her birthday was March 21st, and today was… well, definitely not that late.

Negativity slowly gave way to regret. Angelo realized he’d been so consumed by work and lost in his own world that he hadn’t checked a calendar in days. His stomach sank. He glanced at the date on his phone—March 21st.

Her birthday.

In an instant, the anger melted into uselessness as he watched Katerina throw her arms around Allison, her usual infectious energy in full force. Allison beamed, wishing her a happy birthday while Katerina bounced with excitement.

Angelo stood frozen. When they were younger, he’d always made a point to plan his sister’s birthday days ahead. He’d arrange feasts, come up with ridiculous activities, invite everyone she loved. And now? His sister was hopping around his bed like a giddy little kid, and he hadn’t even remembered the damn date.

His heart sank further as he imagined her realizing that there would be no grand gestures this time. He remembered that look of disappointment she’d get when their father wouldn’t show up for her birthday or when he was the only one in the audience at her dance recital. Those moments had made them closer—but at a price.

He needed to fix this.

“Happy birthday,mikrí,” he said, opening his arms.

---