At first, he kisses me so gently, I almost don’t feel his lips against mine. My skin tingles, and my heart’s beating wildly out of control because I know there’s no turning back now. I wouldn’t want to either. In five years, no man has even turned my head, but Angelo’s not only hot, he understands me.
My front presses against his chest, loving the hardness of him as he wraps one arm around my back and eliminates all the space between us. We stand there, kissing softly, bodies pressed together, and nothing else seems to matter.
Live in the present. I remind myself of the mantra I promised to follow for the last two years. There is nothing more present than Angelo and the way he’s holding me in his arms. His smell, spicy and full man, surrounds me and roots me in the moment.
He pulls away and stares down at me. “Do you want to stop?” he whispers.
“No.” I slide my hands up his arms and lock my fingers behind his neck. “Kiss me like we only have tonight.”
His eyes search mine for a moment, then his mouth is on mine. This time, a little harder than before, but he’s still holding back. I slide my fingers up the back of his neck, tethering myself to him and pulling his face closer.
He has me weak in the knees the moment he turns his head and his teeth tug at my bottom lip. I moan my appreciation, wanting more, needing to taste him. I could stay like this forever. The rest of the world be damned.
I haven’t felt this much pure joy and sheer pleasure in five long years. There’s nothing like the touch of another person or the lips of a hot man, reminding me I’m alive and there’s more than just sadness left in my body.
I want him. I want his kiss. I want his arms. I want everything he has to give.
He walks me backward, easing me onto the couch and covering me with his body. But his hands stay at my sides, careful not to go further. I can appreciate that. I could lose myself in this man, but I’m not sure either of us is ready for more than the way we’re kissing each other.
His weight is delicious on top of me. I feel so small underneath his massive frame. Protected and cocooned. My body’s on fire, getting ahead of my mind.
Then it happens. Angelo sweeps his tongue inside my mouth, giving me the first taste of his sweetness. My hands roam his back as our tongues tangle together, speaking to each other without saying a word. I dig my fingernails into his shoulders, wanting more—and needing it just as much too.
12
Angelo
“Daddy.”
I grunt as Tate pulls on my arm.
“Daddy,” she whispers and tugs harder.
“Baby, let Daddy sleep.” I don’t open my eyes.
“Why’s Tilly here?” Tate asks.
Every muscle in my body tenses as my eyes fly open.
Fuck.
I’m about to get the Shittiest Father of the Year award. The one thing I promised myself was that I wouldn’t subject my kids to someone I was dating until I was pretty damn serious about where our future was heading.
I’m not quite sure where Tilly and I are going. Last night, kissing her made me feel alive again. It made me want more of her. I’d been so busy with the kids and the bar, I’d put the loneliness I felt completely out of my mind.
Everything about us felt right. She got me. She didn’t judge me on my sadness or guilt. Tilly had walked in my shoes, losing the person she thought she’d spend eternity with.
“We fell asleep watching a movie, baby.” I glance down at Tilly, who’s still sleeping peacefully at my side. Thank God shit didn’t get out of hand and we are both fully clothed. That would’ve been a complete nightmare.
This is bad.
Tate’s on the coffee table, staring at the two of us. Her tiny legs are kicking back and forth against the wood, and I know she probably has a million questions. She pushes her unruly hair backward and yawns before rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Are you going to make us breakfast?”
She doesn’t seem bothered or even shocked that Tilly’s in our home and spent the night, but the guilt in my gut is clear as day. As a father, it’s my duty to protect Tate, even if it’s from me.
“I don’t know. Tilly probably has to go,” I tell her.
Tilly starts to stir in the crook of my arm. It’s like I’m frozen. I don’t know if I should push Tilly away, putting space between us for Tate. But I also don’t want to be an asshole to Tilly and have her wake up in the middle of me shoving her off my shoulder.
