Page 20 of Twisted Games of Revenge

He leads me to a secluded table in a quiet corner, with a navy-blue leather booth seat and low-lit chandeliers hanging overhead. I take a seat, sliding over to the side closest to the wall.

“I’ll get us some drinks,” he offers.

I smile and nod, appreciating the space from him. His presence is already clouding my judgment, and I need to get my shit together before I do something I will regret.

He moves toward the bar in the center of the room. The bartender looks shocked when he sees him and fumbles with the glass as he tries to poor a drink.

In my bag I feel my phone vibrate with a text message, and I pull it out to check who it’s from.

SLOANE: Hope you know what you’re doing!!

VIVIAN: Me too!!

I reply then slip my phone back inside my purse, glancing up to watch the other patrons around Alessandro. They all know who he is, and I can see he gets off on his popularity, nodding in acknowledgment as they greet him as he makes his way back to me. He places a drink down in front of me then slides in beside me, instead of taking the seat opposite. The warmth radiating off his body is enough to melt me into a puddle all over the floor. And when he smiles at me, all charming before tossing his hair back a little with his free hand, I swoon. This is the guy I met at my papa’s party and instantly fell for.

“My mother seems to like you,” he comments after having a swig of his whiskey.

“I only met her last night. I’m not sure you can judge character that quickly, but we had a nice conversation. She wants to help me, I think.”

“My mother doesn’t do anything unless it will benefit her in some way. She likes you because she thinks you hold value.”

I’m not sure if I should be insulted by his remark or if it was more of a dig at her. I take a small sip of the margarita Alessandro brought back for me. “You don’t like your mother?”

“I tolerate her.” He looks me over. “Do you have a close relationship with your parents?”

I shake my head, not wanting to get into it. Even my fake story is too much for me to talk about tonight.

His hand drops to my thigh, a warmth spreading through me. “Sometimes the family you choose is more fitting than the one you were born into,” he says softly, and I’m not sure if he’s talking about mine or his. But either way, he’s right.

I glance up at him, not sure why this moment is starting to feel so damn intimate when I am supposed to have just met this guy. But there is just something about this softer side to him that makes me feel safe with him. “I hope I choose better than my parents did. That’s all I can say.”

He takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers together in a way that makes me all hot for him. “You will,” he assures me, and I know he’s talking about him. He thinks this is a done deal already.

I smile softly at him, a gentle curve of my lips mirroring his, as we sit together in comfortable silence. For the first time in so long I feel like a normal girl, falling for a normal guy, an intoxicating chemistry swirling through the air between us. I glance at his lips, wondering what it would be like to steal a kiss that wasn’t laced with the bitterness of all the angst the two of us carry around. Would it feel like it did before I started hating him?

“Do it,” he whispers, reading my mind and giving me the go-ahead.

Without giving it another thought, I move in closer, pressing my lips to his. A breathy moan escapes my lips as he kisses me back, swiping his tongue through my open mouth. We had been building to this moment since our eyes locked from across the lawn tonight, and he doesn’t disappoint. My hands run up his muscular arms, settling on the back of his neck as I pull him into me. I have missed this side of him, craved it in a way I can’t even explain.

Knowing I’m getting in over my head, I pull back panting, needing a second to breathe. This pull between us is all-consuming, and he knows it as well as I do. But before I have time to catch my breath, he’s kissing me again, desperately.

His fingers press into my waist as he tries to get closer to me. Greedily his other hand travels up my thigh, pushing the silkyfabric aside so he can lightly run his fingers over the bare skin of my inner thigh.

Oh, dear God. His feather-light touch sends shivers through me. I want him badly even though I know I shouldn’t. My pussy throbs with need for him, short-circuiting any logic left in my brain.

I relax my back into the seat, his weight pressing into me, and his hand travels farther up my thigh, sending goosebumps all the way down my legs. What I wouldn’t give to have his fingers inside of me. My heart races like crazy because I know I have to stop him, even if I want this.

When he makes it to just before my soaked panties, my breath hitches in my chest, and I move the hand that was tangling in his hair from the back of his neck to wrapping around his wrist, stopping him going any further.

I pant frantically as I pull away from his kiss. His dark eyes meeting mine in question, they are so heady with desire it sends a jolt of fear over me. This is too much. I want him too badly, and I know it’s a terrible idea.

“I’m not the girl you think I am,” I say, remembering Sloane can hear anything we say or do. Tonight isn’t the night for sexy shenanigans with Alessandro, no matter how badly my body craves him. And right now, my pussy is begging me to let him touch me.

He smirks dangerously, amused. Then his face moves closer to mine again, and this time he drops his lips to my neck, placing kisses all the way up to my earlobe. I can’t help the moan that flies from my lips. “I could kiss you all night, just like this, Vivian,” he rumbles seductively, and I believe him because I could do the same. I would definitely end up riding his cock right here in this room full of people, but I could kiss him forever.

I let out a small breathy moan, my body pressing into his, just begging to be touched. My pussy clenches and throbs with need,and I press my legs together to try and stop my hunger for him. “There are people around,” I warn as much for myself as for him, kissing his lips instead.

My eyes close, and I’m taken back in time, swept away with him in the moment. It’s no use, I want so badly for him to sink his thick fingers deep inside me and take away this throbbing desire I have for him. In a moment of weakness, I release his wrist, and this time I use my hand to push his under the bunched-up hem of my dress, giving him permission to touch methere. If Sloane has any sense about her, she will turn off her mic because it’s too late for me to stop this train from derailing.

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