Page 92 of Married with Mayhem

My mother gazes at him with adoration and watches him eat until there’s a burbling cry from the baby monitor sitting on the counter. Then she’s spurred into action and rushes out of the room to tend to her granddaughter.

I take a thin slice of the ciabatta bread left over from dinner and nibble on the crusty edge. “Well done. Homemade sauce is her love language.”

Monte sets his water glass down and intentionally lets his gaze wander over my body until I start to fidget. “I’m more interested in your love language.”

I take the bread away from my mouth. “Didn’t we discuss that topic last night? By the way, it seems that every adult in the house heard us, uh…talking.”

His eyebrows shoot up and he mulls this new information over before busting up with laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I grumble, still feeling the sting over Luca’s teasing comments this afternoon.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head and dives back into his food. “You’re just awful cute.”

Monte finishes the remaining bites on his plate but sidesteps me on the way to the sink when I try to take his dishes. “Do you know how hard my dad would smack me in the head if he sawme passing off my dirty dishes to a lady? I’ll deal with them.” He flips the faucet on. “Where’s Luca and Anni?”

“They turned in early. My mother stays up all hours anyway so she’s taking care of Jane.”

He scrubs his plate and sets it on the drying rack. “Guess this means I’ve got you all to myself, Gamer Girl.”

He utters those words so calmly, as if he didn’t just ignite a massive sexual tension inferno. To be fair, the fire has already been simmering all day.

Monte abruptly pulls off his shirt. He wipes his face with it. “I’ve been in the dirt all day so I’m gonna take a shower.”

I’m instantly obsessed with his bare tan chest. He’s flawlessly defined, randomly decorated with dark tattoos. His gold cross hangs around his neck.

Naturally, I’ve seen Monte without his shirt before. But in that ‘before’ time, I wasn’t intimately acquainted with his lips, his tongue and the seductive weight of his body on top of mine.

“Want to join me?” he says with a wink.

“Where?” I whisper. Because my brain matter has evaporated.

Monte balls his shirt up with one hand. With the other, he hooks a thumb into the waistband of his jeans and drags it down an inch.

“In the shower, Sabrina,” he says and casually runs his hand over the front of his jeans to highlight the bulge, which is substantial.

“Now?” I ask, which might be the stupidest response I could have come up with.

Monte shrugs. “Or you can just watch if you want.”

Oh, yes.I do want that very much.

“I’ve got to do laundry,” I blurt out.

And just like that, I’ve killed the moment.

What’s my problem?

It’s not as if I’ve never met Monte’s dick before. I’m a huge admirer of that part of his body and I had some very exciting experiences with it lately.

All day long I’ve been thinking about him. Every scene from last light has been replaying in my head nonstop.

Iwantto be with Monte.

I want to immediately say yes when he flashes that wicked grin and invites me to do naked things.

I want to be daring. Sexy.

I want this stupid fucking monologue to quit running through my head as I stand in my sister’s kitchen blushing like a weirdo, as if Monte and I didn’t have Almost Sex last night.

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