Page 2 of Stefano
“Pull away.”
Fuck.She’s braver than I thought.
“It’s better this way,” I tell her, my voice low but hard.A warning to her and a reminder to myself.
She tilts her head, studying me like she’s trying to figure out the puzzle I’ve spent years building.“Better for who?”
The question slices deeper than any blade.I don’t answer.I can’t.If I tell her the truth—that every night I go to bed thinking about how it would feel to bury myself inside her, to hear her moan my name—I’ll ruin her before we even begin.
So I walk away.Again.
****
After everyone goesto bed and the house quiets down, I lie in my bed, staring at the ceiling, my cock aching with need I can’t get rid of.Not without her.
But I can’t touch her.
So I touch myself.
My hand wraps around my hard length, stroking slow at first, then faster as images of Andrea flood my mind.Her soft laugh.Her big brown eyes.The curve of her hips under that black dress.
I imagine her straddling me, nails digging into my chest, whispering my name as I thrust into her.I imagine her lips parting, begging me for more.I imagine being inside her so deep she forgets every other man who might ever look her way.
My release tears out of me, hot and bitter, spilling across my stomach.The sound that rips from my throat is half-groan, half-curse.
I close my eyes.She deserves better.But fuck me, I don’t know how much longer I can keep my distance.
Chapter Two
The Crush
Andrea
I’ve been in love with Stefano Cammareri since the first day I laid eyes on him.
Not the silly kind of crush girls giggle about in high school.This is deeper, heavier, the kind that burrows into your bones and refuses to let go.
