Page 23 of Indigo Deception
I don't take the scotch, but I take a seat across from him. "Do you work this late often?"
He laughs softly. "Always. The Bellanti empire doesn't run itself."
"And you have to be the one to run it?"
Something shifts in his expression. "Someone has to. My father's retired. My older brother handles the... traditional aspects of our business. Isabella handles our legitimate businesses. Olivia is concerned about her new law firm, and Lorenzo takes care of….certain things. While I take care of the money aspect. That's my domain."
"It must be a lot of pressure," I say, and I'm surprised to find I mean it.
He looks at me for a long moment. "You do not know. It's not just about money. It's about family. Employees. People who depend on us."
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold. Without a word, Angelo stands and walks to a closet, returning with a soft blanket. As he drapes it around my shoulders, his hands linger, fingertips grazing my collarbone. Our eyes meet, and the air between us charges with electricity.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" I whisper.
His fingers brush my cheek, trailing fire in their wake. "Maybe I'm tired of fighting with you."
I should pull away. I should remember who he is, what he does. I should remember who I am and why I'm here. Instead, I lean into his touch.
"We haven't talked about what happened," I breathe, hardly recognizing my voice.
His jaw tightens. "What's there to say? I've tried to talk to you about it, and there's only a certain number of rejections a guy can take."
I bite my lip.
He leans down until I can feel the heat radiating from his body. "But I still need to know. So, tell me," he says, his voice a rough whisper. "Tell me you don't feel this too."
My back hits the back of the couch.
"Angelo, we can't—"
“You know, I'm fucking tired of hearing that fucking statement from your mouth,” he growls, placing his mouth on mine.
I gasp lightly, and this gives him the opportunity to thrust his tongue deep into my mouth. His hands bracket my face, thumbs pressing into my jawline as my fingers curl into the soft cotton of his shirt. I can feel his heart hammering against his ribs, matching the frantic pace of my own.
I should stop this. My career, my integrity, everything I've built is at stake. But when his teeth graze my lower lip, rational thought flees.
He presses closer, one thigh sliding between mine, and a sound escapes me—half protest, half surrender. The blanket falls away, forgotten.
"I've been thinking about you," he confesses against my neck, his breath hot against my skin. "Every night since that day in the bathroom. I can't focus. Can't sleep."
His confession tears at me. I have been thinking about him too. In the darkness of my apartment, alone with nothing but case files and the memory of his scent, I've imagined this…wanted this again, even as I hated myself for daring to desire the feel of him inside me again.
I slide my hands under his shirt, needing to feel skin beneath my fingertips. He groans into my mouth as my nails drag lightly down his back. In one fluid motion, he lifts me, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. I can feel him hard against me as he carries me out of the office to his bedroom.
"Tell me to stop," he challenges, eyes locked on mine as he lowers me onto his bed. "Tell me you don't want this."
The lie dies on my lips as his hands push his t-shirt up my thighs. His fingers trace patterns on my skin, each touch sending sparks through my nervous system.
"Angelo," I gasp as he finds the edge of my underwear. "I don't think..."
“Shut the fuck up or I'll shut you up with your panties,” he snarls, sliding down my panties.
Such a degrading statement shouldn't affect me, but God help me, it does.
He kisses his way up my inner thigh, his stubble creating a delicious friction that makes me squirm. When he reaches my pussy, he looks up at me, eyes burning with an intensity that makes my heart stutter.
"I want to eat you out properly," he says, his voice rough with desire. "I've been dreaming about it ever since I had a taste the last time.”
