Page 78 of Say I Do

“Be good,” Benito warned.

I smirked. “We both know that will never happen.”

“Here you go,” the clerk said, drawing my attention back to her.

A few of them had caught my eye, and I went for them right away. I picked out six; three of them gold and three of them silver. Each ring was heavy and felt nice in my hand.

Benito grunted, and I glanced up at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

If there was anything I realized about Benito, he had an opinion on everything. He might sit there quietly, but the man never had a moment of peace in his head.

“Say it.”

Benito was silent for a moment as I rubbed one of the thick skull rings.

“Those won’t look good on your hands.”

I turned to glare at him. “Say I have dainty hands. I dare you.”

The corners of his mouth tilted up in a smile. My chest tightened at the sight of it. Benito always glared or looked menacing; his smile almost made him look happy. I could fall for that smile.

Fall? For Benito? Seriously, have I sustained a brain injury?

Benito grabbed my hands, forcing me to drop the heavy rings. He brought them to his mouth and kissed the tip of my fingers. The moment his lips touched my flesh, a fire ignited and traveled down my arms and straight to my chest. My stomach tightened as air became scarce. My lungs ached to suck in more. No matter how much I was breathed in, it wasn’t enough.

Our eyes locked, and I was instantly lost in the moment. The entire store disappeared, and it was just me and Benito.

“Hai delle bellissime mani delicate. Sembrano e si sentono bene avvolte intorno al mio cazzo.”

Any moment now, my heart was going to give out. And there was no one to blame but Benito fucking Vitale. “ ???????????????????” (I’m dying, what the hell are you doing?)

I was out of my element, and I could tell so was Benito. We stood there frozen together as if our brains had shut down, and we were left with nothing but instinct. We moved as one as we got closer until the small gap between us was erased.

“Did you find… oh um, I’ll come back.”

The bubble around us popped and I stepped back. I pulled my hands free and punched Benito in the stomach. My knuckles hit a hard wall of muscle. I shook my hand out as I turned back to the rings.

“Fuck what was that for?” He bent over slightly, but otherwise, he showed nothing.

“I don’t have delicate fingers. I may not speak Italian, but I’m not stupid, Benito.”

He groaned, rubbing his abdomen. “You sure?”

“Are you trying to piss me off?”

“You’re cute when you’re angry.”

Fucking asshole.

I pulled him against my back. Grabbing both his hands, I tugged them in front of me. Benito pressed against me, enveloping me in his scent. I choked back a moan and attempted to focus.

I’m some kind of masochist. This is pure torture.

“What are you—”

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