Page 28 of My Pucking Crush

“I’m trying to get on your good side.” He glances down at my hand on his arm. “If you like me, you won’t fight me.”

His words sound dirty, but that’s my dirty mind that won’t stop going a million miles an hour when I’m around him.

“Wow, this is really good,” I say after I wolf down several forkfuls. “What about you? You hungry?”

“Not really.”

Embarrassed at my near empty plate, I push it toward him. “Shit. Finish this.”

“You eat.” He pushes it back. “I’ll grab something after I clean up.”

“Leave it for Gilda.” I point to the sink. “Makes her feel like she’s being paid for something.”

“I’ll rinse everything.” Luca grabs the sautéing pan, but I stop him.

“Please, Luc, eat something.”

“You need it more than me.”

“I’m full,” I say, ignoring how I want to be full of his cock. And startled these feelings are flowing so freely. Twirling the pasta on a fork, I hold it to him. “Please. Eat.”

He quirks a brow and takes the fork. “I got it.”

I watch him slide the food from the fork tines into his open mouth past full lips. Something glints in his mouth. Oh my God. His tongue is pierced.

Damn that’s hot.

Luca’s eyes flutter, and I wonder if that’s how he’ll react when my cock slides into his mouth. How will that piercing feel when it hits the sensitive underside of my shaft?

When?

Whoa, is hooking up with this guy a foregone conclusion?

His groan doesn’t help.

“Good, huh?” I ask to get out of my head. “You made it.”

“I learned to cook.” He puts down the fork, but I slide the bowl in front of him to finish. Eating more, he continues, “My wife didn’t cook, and we didn’t have a chef.”

“You have to elaborate. You’ve been so cryptic.”

Luca blows out a breath. “What I’m about to tell you can’t leave this penthouse. Not yet.”

Shivers run down my spine, but my tolerance is solow at this point. “Hit me.”

“A man named Ivan Belova bought Richmond, that’s public knowledge.” Looking me right in the eye, he says, “What no one else knows is, my wife was Ivan Belova’s sister. Belova runs the Chicago Bratva. That’s the Russianmafia.”

Alarm bells go off in my head. There’s so much there to unpack, and now with a full stomach, I’m ready to vomit. Luca knows what my stalkers want becauseheused to be one of those guys sent to hurt people.

Fuck.

“Did they hurt me to get to you?” But as I say the words, they sound ridiculous and self-centered of me.

Luca guffaws. “They don’t know where I am, and Belova would never think to look for mein Connecticutas a security agent for a hockey team.” His dark eyes draw me in. “My name’s not really Luca Sheppard. And no one else on the team knows this. Not even Bronwin. I’m trusting you, Max.”

“How?” I shudder. “How can you just have a new name?”

“A hacker in the Manhattan Italian Mafia gave me a new identity.”

---