Page 36 of Indebted

My pulse picks up a little when he stands, when he very gently parts my legs and stands between them. “From now on, full truth. Remember, just like I said to the guys. No more lying. There’s too much at stake here.”

How does he do this to me? Being close to him should be the last thing on my mind right now, the very last thing I care about. My sister could be a death’s door this very minute, there’s a maniac out there somewhere, somebody could stage an invasion of this entire property for all I know. Yet here I am, fighting the urge to hook my legs around him and draw him closer. He is the last man in the world who should do this to me, but I can’t seem to make my body accept that fact.

“I just want her to be okay,” I whisper, staring up into his deep, dark eyes. I used to think they were so cold, but now I see nothing but warmth in them. Fire, even.

“And she will be. I’ll take care of her.” When I open my mouth to argue out of reflex, he places a finger over my lips. “I know that’s your job, or at least what you think is your job, but maybe it’s time you step aside and let somebody else take over for a little while. Maybe it’s time you thought about yourself and what you need.”

Right now, what I need isn’t the problem. It’s what I want, what my body craves. I can’t help but lean in a little closer, like he’s a magnet pulling me to him. To his firm, strong chest and the heart beating hard under my palm.

He catches my chin under one finger and tips it upward, lining our mouths up. “What do you need?” he whispers. I can only think of one thing right now, which is why I catch his lips with mine and groan when our tongues touch. The sweetest fire sweeps over me, heating me from the inside out, tightening my nipples and moistening my pussy.

I don’t care if it’s right or wrong. I want this man. I need him. My legs close around his and pull him nearer until his hardening bulge presses against where I’m hottest. It doesn’t matter that I shouldn’t, that we shouldn’t. I’ve never wanted anything more, never once in my life. Nothing has ever felt this right.

His tongue dances over my lips again before plunging into my mouth, and while fondling my breasts with one hand, he cups the back of my head with the other.

And I can’t help it. I freeze up. “Sorry,” I breathe, my face going red and hot with embarrassment.

He pulls his hand away like I burned him. “Does it hurt?”

I shake my head. “I’m just… ugly.” And I’m still so ashamed. I can’t look at him anymore.

He’s not having it, either. “Look at me.” He sighs, letting his fingers trail down my cheek. “You’ve never been ugly a day in your life, and you aren’t now. What, you think a buzzed head could ever make you ugly? It doesn’t matter. You are always going to be exquisite. I don’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful than you do right now, sitting on my desk. A fucking warrior.”

“But I’m not.”

“Delilah Jones, you have shown more strength and loyalty than I ever knew existed.” He brushes his lips against my forehead, against my cheeks, and I can’t help but soak in his kisses. “We like to talk about family and loyalty and all that shit, but you don’t just talk about it. You’ve given up everything for family. I’m in awe of you.”

He looks me in the eye again, and I’m melting thanks to what I see in his. Something’s there that wasn’t before. More than desire. More than respect, even. It makes my heart stutter and my breath catch and my head swim, but I can’t look away. “You couldn’t be ugly if you tried.”

It’s a good thing we’re interrupted, since I don’t know if I could find the words to speak what’s in my heart. I don’t know if it would be a good idea even if I could find them. When did this get so damn complicated? As if it wasn’t already. But this is so much worse.

Jock clears his throat, and Luca sits down again, probably in hopes of hiding his raging erection. “What is it?”

“I wanted to let you know the garage is closed, his car is gone from in front of his place, and there’s a couple of days’ worth of mail in the box.” Well, now I don’t have to deal with the problem of being all worked up with nothing to show for it. I’m about as unaroused as I could possibly be when I plant my feet on the floor again. That coward. That fucking coward.

Luca touches my hand, but his voice is different than before. Softer, sweeter, an intimate little moment between just the two of us. “Why don’t you go get some rest. I’ll let you know if we hear anything.”

Yes, that’s not a bad idea. Though I doubt I’ll do much resting.

How could I rest while imagining all the different ways I’d like to make Greg pay for what he’s done?

And how many times have I done that before? More times than I could count, all the different times Deanna came to me after what she would call a fight, but I would call a beating.

The only difference is, now I might actually have a way of getting back at him.

And the fact that the idea makes me smile to myself as I climb the stairs leaves me wondering what it says about me.

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