Page 75 of Broken Deal

His hand grips the legs of my chair, pulling it toward him to close the gap between us. “While Ifuckyou.” His tongue flicks across his bottom lip, eyes dropping to mine, intense and unwavering. “While I make you come withthese.” He wiggles his fingers, the gesture slow and deliberate, his focus never leaving my lips. “While you come aroundmycock.” His gaze snaps back to mine, locking us in a stare that makes my heart stutter. “You’remine,” he growls.

His thumb runs across my bottom lip, sending a jolt of electricity down my spine.

“And Bella?1,” he whispers, his voice low, sultry, the kind that makes you lean in without realizing, “I’m a selfish motherfucker. I don’t like sharing.”

His eyes darken, full of that same dangerous edge I saw the night we met, thrilling and impossible to ignore.

After a beat of silence, he says, “Got it?”

“Y-yes,” I reply weakly.

“Good.” He smiles, leaning back. “What’s the deal again?”

“Casual sex. No feelings. We’re exclusive, and the deal expires the day before we go to Las Vegas,” I confirm, my heart tugging at my chest, knowing time is flying by.

Only two months left.

“Good.” He nods. “Let’s eat, shall we?”

“You still haven’t answered why you’re here,” I blurt. He could be doing so many things right now. Granted, I know now he doesn’t truly like the party scene like hemakes it seem to the rest of the world. But still, I could think of many other things he could be doing than being here.

“Aria and Damian dropped by the restaurant today. I heard from Aria you’ve been working nonstop, so I wanted to check in on you.” He shrugs.

“Oh, okay.”

“And honestly? We haven’t seen much of each other and I miss having that sassy mouth of yours around,” he jokes, giving me a soft smile that makes his dimple pop.

I pick up a plastic fork and stab it into the pasta, twirling it around. Before taking a bite, I reply, “I kind of missed your annoying presence, too.”

His eyes dance with amusement. “I know.”

I roll my eyes at him and flip him off. “Forget I said anything.”

“I’m going to gain so much weight if I keep hanging out with you.” I shoot him a glare as I drop onto the couch.

He barks a laugh, sitting next to me. “I didn’t hear one complaint as you were scarfing down three pasta bowls.” He grabs my legs, placing them on his lap and brushing them back and forth with his fingertips. The feathery touch is innocent, but it doesn’t make me feel any less tempted to turn this night into something more. To get lost in his touch and his addicting kisses. To get lost in the way his eyes roam my body with heat and appreciation.

“Your food is too addicting. It’s allyourfault,” I say, poking him in the forearm.

I rest my head on the couch and look at him. His head is resting on the couch, too, but his eyes are closed, so I take my time to just…stare at him. Lorenzo is a great cook. Now that I know this is his passion, I can see it all more clearly. I can imagine him being this big famous chef who travels around the world, teaching others. Come to think of it, the only time I’ve seen him happy, he was cooking—bothtimes. Don’t get me wrong, Lorenzo is overall an outgoing person, but most of the time, that sparkle doesn’t reach those beautiful whiskey eyes of his. Knowing this tugs at my heart. The worrier side of me is starting to come out, and I need to shut it down. He doesn’t need me to take care of him—I can’taffordto take care of him, even when there’s nothing I would like more.

“I can feel you staring at me. If you want to jump my bones, all you have to do is ask,” he says through a playful grin, his eyes still closed.

I grab a decorative pillow and throw it at his head. “You wish.”

His eyes snap open with a playful smirk still etched on his face, and he jerks my legs, a small gasp mixed with a laugh escaping my lips as he sits me on his lap. His warmth brings me a moment of serenity. My usual racing thoughts wash away every time he’s around me. Somehow, he grounds me.

He buries his nose in the crook of my neck, something I’ve noticed he loves doing, and inhales deeply. I clench my thighs involuntarily, loving a little too much the feel of his hot breath against my skin.

“You smell so good.” His voice is gravelly against my neck, and he presses soft kisses all over. “E tu seicosì bella?2.” He grabs my legs and wraps them around his waist, making me straddle him now. His knuckles brush my collarbone before pressing a kiss there. “Perfetta?3.”

I whimper at the deep sound of his voice, my eyes fluttering as he keeps pressing soft kisses along my neck, shoulder, and collarbone. I have no idea what he said, but it doesn’t matter. Anything that rolls off his tongue, especially in Italian, ignites a fire in my belly.

He presses his lips on mine in a soft and slow kiss. I never thought something so relaxed and sensual could make me clench with need. But here I am—desperatefor him. Looking for any sort of friction, I start grinding myself against him, the swell of his growing erection giving me the perfect pressure against my clit, even with all the fabric between us I so desperately want to get rid of.

“Blue,” he warns, biting my lip, his fingertips digging into the flesh of my waist, holding me still. “I didn’t come here for this. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He places a strand of hair behind my ear, his beautiful, haunting brown eyes meeting mine. “I just wanted to see you and spend time with you. Because I honestly really fucking missed you.” His tone is so sincere, my heart flutters.

I remove the firm grip he has on my waist and start grinding against his throbbing cock again, not breaking eye contact. “I know,” I whisper, closing my eyes and brushing my lips against his. “I want this.”

---