His mother blew out of the pool house, finally leaving the two of them alone for the first time in hours.
“Tomasso, we can’t let your mother throw us an engagement party.”
Tomasso stepped into the one room pool house that had a platform bed in the far corner, and two short sofas creating the living room space. The kitchen was off to the side with an eat-in counter that completed the dwelling.
He threw his jacket on one of the couches and walked over to where Najah stood.
“Sweetness, you know how my mom is. Nothing has changed in all these years. Of course she’s throwing us a party.”
He could see the panic rising inside her. Her shoulders were drawn up and she was pacing.
“Tomasso—”
“Najah, stop.” He walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and pushing down, forcing her to relax.
“We agreed to do this for six months. Did you really think we’d never have to celebrate this engagement? You know my family?”
“Correction, knew,” she interrupted. “I knew your family.”
Those words burned inside of him. When they were together, Najah had spent more time at his house than she had her own.
“My family loved you, Najah because I loved you. Nothing has changed.”
Najah pushed his hands off her shoulders and walked toward the large windows that displayed the in-ground pool in the back.
“That was fifteen years ago, Tomasso. I was an eighteen-year-old girl wrapped up in a boy who sold me a bill of goods about forever. That love doesn’t exist anymore.”
Silence filled the room as the angry rush of his blood pumped through his vessels. Tomasso had never been a hothead. Losing control wasn’t his thing. But that didn’t mean his anger didn’t run deep.
And what Najah had just said pissed him the hell off.
Yes, he’d broken things off with her. He took full responsibility for it. He’d been a prick about how he’d gone about it, and he’d also taken responsibility for that too. But what he wouldn’t do was allow her to shit on everything they’d shared. Not when he’d loved her so damn much. Not when his family had adored her as if she’d been born into it.
He stalked over to her, and as he did, she folded her arms, preparing herself for the next verbal barb she thought Tomasso would throw at her. But he was done talking. Najah needed to be shown the truth. And there was only one way to do that.
When he reached her, he snaked a hand around her neck, pulling her into him, slamming his mouth against hers.
The kiss was rough and punishing. It was intended to be. Not just for her, but for him too. He’d caused this distrust. He knew that. He’d hurt her. He’d known that too. But what she didn’t know was in all that pain he was doling out; he’d served himself a healthy dose of it too.
He’d carried around that pain until it had become a dull ache that never ceased. And now, the cure to his pain was within reach but still so far away.
He would never recover completely until he had her back. All of her. Her heart, her soul, and her body.
But for right now, if he couldn’t have all of her, he’d take the one part she was willing to give.
And she was definitely willing. Her eyes were focused on him, her breathing was heavy, putting those gorgeous tits of hers on display.
Her large nipples pebbled up beneath the white t-shirt she was wearing, and it took all of his control not to tear the fabric off of her.
She ripped her mouth away from his, dragging in one labored breath after another until she could speak. “This engagement is fake, Tomasso. We shouldn’t do something we’re only going to regret later.”
He let a single finger slide down the soft angle of her jaw until it met the curve of her neck. Her breath hitched when he touched that spot that used to drive her crazy back in the day.
Then he was a little boy playing at being a man. Now he was a man who knew what the hell to do with a woman like Najah Temple.
His finger continued its journey until it was sliding across her collarbone, hovering just above her cleavage.
“Sweetness, I know I won’t regret it.” He buried his fingers into her curls, meeting her gaze head on. “What about you?”
