Page 7 of The Deal

“I’m cold,” I lie, folding my arms across my chest. Naturally, the damp fabric isn’t helping, but if I’m honest with myself, my body’s reaction is due to him.

His eyes snap back to mine. “Are you, though?” he asks accusingly.

“There was ice in that drink … and the air-conditioning in here isn’t helping my plight.”

He barks out a laugh as the gorgeous smile on his face grows. I’m glad one of us finds this situation amusing.

I purse my lips, turning my face away because I hate being called out on my bullshit.

“Don’t,” he utters, placing his forefinger under my chin and turning my attention back to him. “Your body’s natural response to me is nothing to be embarrassed about.” He bridges the small gap between us, pressing his torso firmly against mine. “I can assure you, this—” He juts his hips forward, digging his erection into the base of my stomach. “—is all you,Tesoro.”

He just called me sweetheart in Italian, and as much as I don’t like it, I shamelessly swoon a little on the inside.

My breath hitches in my throat when his thumb reaches up to skim along my bottom lip, dragging it down slightly as it goes, and it leaves me pulsing with need.

It’s been months since my body has had a release, and unfortunately, I’m wound up tighter than a clock, which isn’t helping in this situation.

His digit pauses at the corner of my mouth before it continues the journey by gently gliding across my cheek. “Your skin is so soft,bella,” he murmurs.

I can feel his warm breath ghost over my skin as he brings his face forward, and for a split second, I almost consider letting the incoming kiss happen, but just before his lips connect with mine, I turn my face to the side.

It’s a sobering thought to realise I actually want to kiss him, but I’m grateful I held firm. I may have hooked up with men in the past, but kissing is a hard limit for me. It’s too intimate.

I don’t do intimacy.

He draws back slightly, and when I turn my attention back to him, his eyes scan over my face. His reaction shows me he’s not used to being rejected.

“You don’t want this?” he asks, confused.

Do I?

I’m pretty sure the answer is yes.

Who wouldn’t want this man?

“I don’t want to kiss you, but …”

“But what,Tesoro? I need your words.”

“I …”

“It’s okay to say no. I’m not going to bite you if you do.”

I don’t recognise the person I am at this moment. Shy and meek are two words you wouldn’t use to describe me. If you’ve lived a life like mine, you develop toughness, even if some of it is bravado.

“Maybe I like being bit,” I retort, finally snapping myself out of this weird trance I’ve been in.

His eyebrows jump, and that smug grin returns. “I plan to do a lot more than bite you,” he says, sliding his arm around my waist and tugging me closer.

I’ve never liked being manhandled, but there’s something hot about his possessiveness.

When his lips move to my jawline, I tilt my head back to give him better access. He’s free to kiss every inch of me, just not my mouth.

He alternates between nibbling on the fleshy parts and placing open-mouthed kisses down my neck, and my body tingles with anticipation.

“What’s your name?” he murmurs against my skin.

“Umm …”

---