Page 38 of My Casanova

Our plates were clean, and I was reeling from the story Smoke had just told me. It was like something straight out of a book—crooked politicians, crazy exes, shootings, explosions.

It was a lot.

“All done?” The waitress’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I blinked and looked up at her. “Uh, yeah.”

“Could I interest you guys in some dessert? The banana cream pie is amazing,” she suggested.

Smoke looked at me, and his dark eyes were filled with something I couldn’t quite place. “Are we having dessert here, angel?”

I knew what he was asking. I hadn’t told him I made the banana split torte this morning, and honestly, I didn’t know if I was going to. I needed to make a choice.

Even after everything he’d just shared, I wasn’t scared. Not of him and not of the life he led. Even sitting in this crowded restaurant, not knowing what could happen in the next second, I felt safe with him.

“I made banana split torte this morning,” I said with a little teasing smile playing on my lips.

A sexy grin spread across Smoke’s face. “We’ll skip dessert and just take the check.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and handed the waitress a handful of bills without even glancing at the total. “Let’s go, angel.”

I slid out of the booth, but before I could get far, Smoke was at my side with his warm hand closing around mine. He tugged me gently and led me through the restaurant and out intothe cool night air. My heart pounded, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the story he had told me or the way his touch made me feel.

At his bike, he grabbed my helmet and placed it on my head. He snapped the buckle under my chin with a smirk.

“I didn’t think we were going to leave that quickly when I said I made banana split torte,” I laughed and adjusted the helmet slightly.

Smoke leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. “We’ve still got a long ride in front of us, angel, and I’m ready for dessert right now.”

I felt a blush creep up my neck. “How about you have a taste of a different kind of dessert?” I teased and let my fingers trail down the front of his leather cut.

His eyes darkened, and his voice dropped to a low, husky murmur. “And you say I’m the smooth one, angel.”

Before I could respond, his lips crashed against mine in a kiss that was anything but soft. It was hot, urgent, and sent a fire coursing through me. My fingers gripped his cut, pulled him closer, and felt the hard lines of his body pressed against mine. His hands roamed down my back and gripped my waist as he deepened the kiss.

I melted into him and savored the taste of him. He claimed me with just his mouth. My heart raced, and my knees felt weak as his tongue slid against mine. He took his time and tasted me like I was his favorite meal.

We finally pulled apart, and we were both breathless. I bit my lower lip and tried to steady myself.

“Whoa,” Smoke gasped and ran his thumb over his bottom lip. “I think that beats banana split torte any day.”

I laughed and felt dizzy under his spell. “I think we should head back to my place, and we can compare the two.”

He pressed one last short kiss to my lips that was packed with promise. “Hop on, angel.”

Without hesitation, I climbed onto the back of his bike and wrapped my arms around his waist. The rumble of the engine vibrated through me as I pressed closer to him. I felt his strength as he maneuvered us out of the parking lot onto the road.

The night air whipped around us as we sped down the road, but all I could think about was the man in front of me and what was waiting for us when we got back to my place. The roar of the engine vibrated through my chest, and I pressed myself closer to Smoke. The dark countryside stretched out around us, and the moonlight cast a soft glow over the open road.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the ride consume me. The cool breeze, the rhythmic rumble of the bike, and the intoxicating scent of leather mixed with Smoke’s cologne—it was perfection. I had never felt so free and so safe at the same time.

As we neared town, the streetlights flickered to life and cast golden pools of light on the pavement. Smoke maneuvered the bike through the familiar streets with ease, and soon enough, we pulled into my driveway. The bike rumbled to a stop, and he killed the engine. The sudden silence settled around us like a blanket.

I reached up, unbuckled my helmet, and slid it off before I handed it to Smoke. I slid off from behind him and shook out my hair. I caught him watching me with a slow smile, tugging at his lips.

“What are you looking at?” I asked and felt suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

“Just taking in how beautiful you are,” he said. His voice was low and sincere.

I rolled my eyes with a laugh. “There’s Casanova.”

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