Page 48 of Sins of the Orchid
I had him for a second and lost him the next.
But the feel and taste of him would remain seared into my flesh forever. His touch felt like soaking on a hot day in the azure waters of the Mediterranean Sea as the waves carried you back and forth, lulling you into a sense of safety, only to drown you in it.
Would the storm that came along with Santi’s kiss drown me?
CHAPTER15
Santino
Amore’s moan resonated through me and brought me back to earth. Fucking shit! I was ready to tear into another man for touching her, and I just devoured her lips like it was the last taste I’d ever get and made a hypocrite out of myself.
I had crossed the line that couldn’t be set straight again.
Those lips were the softest thing I had ever felt. The way her body melted against mine, and I hadn’t even touched her. The palms of my hands were pressed against the wall as I kissed her like tomorrow would never come. I had no fucking idea when my one hand inched up her dress. She made the entire world fade, and the only thing that was left was the taste of Amore Bennetti.
Strawberries.
She tasted like strawberries with dew and spring water.
Jesus fucking Christ! She was still a kid.
Her slightly hitched breathing and hazed shimmers of emerald eyes told me otherwise, but I knew better. Goddamn it!
“This was a mistake,” I finally said.
The shattered look she gave me felt like a punch in my chest. What the hell was the kid thinking? Scratch kid. Girl.Fuck!
We stood there, watching each other, and I waited for something, anything to come out of those lips. Or maybe a tantrum. I’d let her even get away with slapping me. Nothing.
Then the door flung open, Adriano came through it looking disheveled, his shirt half tucked and belt on wrong. He must have gotten the news before he had a chance to clean himself up after fucking a random girl. Whoever it was, I’d find out, and she’d be banned from my nightclub. If he would have kept his pants on and by Amore’s side, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have tasted Amore Bennetti.
Fuck!Now I even laid blame.
I was fucking burning up. Heat crawled beneath my skin, the want clawing at my chest to take what was mine.
Not. Mine.
A simple kiss with Amore Bennetti was a clear breach of the trust that her brothers and father had in me. Fuck, why did it feel so right! I had never been more worked up about a woman than her. In all my twenty-seven years, I thought I had it all. Apparently not.
Lust, I told myself. Nothing more. Nothing less. Yet, in the most unsettling way, Amore’s lips on mine branded me in the most fucked up way. Her soft lips on mine, her shallow breaths brushing against my mouth, her slightly clumsy way of brushing her tongue against mine. Her taste.Fuck. Me.
“What happened?” Adriano questioned, his eyes ping-ponged between Amore and me.
Amore answered before I could, her eyes darting to Adriano.
“Your brother was being a dick to Marco,” Amore deadpanned, shrugging her slim, bare shoulders. “Then thought he could preach to me about what I should or shouldn’t do or wear. Typical, male dickhead.” She smoothed her hair and pushed an unruly copper strand behind her ear while plastering a smile on her face for Adriano. “Are you ready to take me home, Adriano?”
She wouldn’t look at me, and it hit me all wrong. But what did she expect? I was nine years older than her.
I fought the urge to grab her nape, pull her back into the kiss and slide my tongue against hers and invade her mouth. I wanted to savor her strawberry taste. It almost felt like aneed.
“Santi, what did you do?” Adriano tried to sound righteous, and it rubbed me the wrong way. He had no rights to her, always left her vulnerable while he chased other women.
With the cold and imperious stare I was known for, I snarled, “Don’t you fucking dare.”
My brother’s eyes narrowed on me, as if assessing whether he should start arguing with me now or later.
“Let’s go, Adriano.” She took his hand and gently tugged him along, never sparing me a glance.
