Page 70 of Desperate Desires

“As far as I’m concerned you are fucking gorgeous as you are,” he said, and fuck, I wanted to believe him so badly.

I wanted to trust that this gorgeous dark angel of a man found me as attractive as I found him.

This was strange. It was foreign and a little uncomfortable. It made me feel oddly vulnerable. This neediness I felt with him was so unlike me, but maybe that was the point.

I’d always played it safe and where did it get me? Alone. In a tiny apartment. Watching my friends find their happiness with the men of their dreams.

Don’t get me wrong. I was glad for them. But maybe it was my turn to find a dream of my own.

Truth was, I wanted to know in my very soul that Ono desired me. That he wanted me. Just like I wanted him.

All those big, muscled men I knew through Micky’s family were all over the top gorgeous. They were all crazy about their women. And for years, I watched them and pretended I didn’t care that I would probably be alone forever.

But maybe I didn’t. Maybe destiny had someone in mind for me after all.

Looking at my husband I felt warmth spread through me. No one held a candle to him. Ono was in a league all his own.

He made my heart stutter and my pussy weep with longing. I squeezed my thighs together, hoping to ease the sudden ache. I mean, could you blame me?

He had all this testosterone on display. Hell, he vibrated with it.

If I could bottle it and sell it, I might be able to afford an island of my own.

The feel of his hard, clothed body pressed against my nude one was like stimulation overload.

My nipples pebbled, and arousal dripped down my thighs.

“You should believe me, Doc. I never wanted anyone the way I want you. Can’t you see that?” he growled and dipped his head.

I sighed, tilting my head so he could claim my lips in a kiss that would’ve brought me to my knees had he not been holding me upright.

Ono pressed his forehead to mine, ending our kiss slowly.

“Shave. Don’t shave. That’s up to you. I don’t need you to primp for me, Bellezza. I just need you.”

“Okay,” I whispered, choosing to believe him.

“Just for the record. I do prefer to be shaved,” I murmured, and felt my cheeks burn at the admission.

“Noted,” he said, and grinned at me.

God, he was so hot when he smiled. So fucking handsome, it was ridiculous.

He grabbed something from the vanity, but I was too busy staring at his face to give it a thought.

Then he lifted it, and I gasped when I saw a showering cap.

I stood still as he carefully, lovingly placed it on my head.

“Like this?” he asked, gently tucking my braids away.

“Yeah. I mean, I can wash my hair, but I usually don’t every day,” I whispered back so as not to break the spell.

This was completely new for me.

I didn’t want to admit how it made me feel. Not yet.

But I also wasn’t very good at lying. So I opted for silence instead.

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