“Did you tell LeRoy?”
“Yeah, he said he can’t do anything to fix it, so he’s making a new Pollo alla Marsala.”
Her Italian accent was improving the more she was around my mom and I, and for some reason it turned me the hell on.
“Well, he’s right, you can undercook something then cook it more, but you can’t redo the cooking that’s already been done.”
“Makes sense. So what are you looking at? You’ve been staring at those papers for hours?”
“Just crunching some numbers?” I say move the plate of food to the side.
“Oh? And what have you come up with?”
“That if you keep up the hard work with this marketing, then I’ll be able to afford to replace your position, and we can live the American dream of entrepreneurs and be at home while others run our business.”
“Really? The sales have gone up?” She says with a wide grin.
I nodded. “Almost a twenty-one percent increase this month.”
She twirls and takes a bow, her ponytail flinging to the ground. When she faces upright, she says, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”
“Never said I did.”
“Oh, please, pretty sure when we first met, that’s all you did.”
“No, when we first met, I wanted to stick my dick in your mouth to teach that pretty-potty mouth of yours a lesson.”Perfect.
Her cheeks flush deep, and it hits me like a goddamn wrecking ball to the gut. I clench my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to pin her against the nearest wall and take her — not gently, not sweetly — but rough and brutal, like the animal she’s turned me into. Sex was supposed to keep this clean. Simple. But it’s only made it worse. Now everything between us hums, strung tight, every look a dare, every accidental brush of skin a fucking ignition. I haven’t made love to her. I won’t. I can’t. Because if I do, I’ll lose what’s left of my self-control. I thought keeping it impersonal — no kissing, no soft shit — would keep my heart out of it. Keep me safe.
I was wrong.
The second my dick touched her, it rewired me. Now, the scent of her skin, the way she breathes when she looks at me — it’s killing me slowly.
“But, I was wrong about the princess name, I think sugar tits would suit you more now that—” My gaze drops, no shame, noapology, lingering at her chest. “I know how sweet you taste.”I wink, cocky, desperate to cover the way I’m unraveling. She scoffs, pretending she doesn’t feel it too, but her cheeks are burning and her nipples are hard under that flimsy shirt.
“Would it kill you to admit I’m better at something than you?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
My voice is casual, even, hiding the chaos raging inside me.
She rolls her eyes hard. “Did they forget to teach you manners at school in this backward town, a simple thank you would suffice, fuck face.”
“There’s that filthy mouth of yours.” I shove my chair back with a sharp scrape, the noise like a starting gun in my ears, and I stalk toward her, my body already in motion before my brain can catch up.
She steps back, step for step, like some part of her wants to be caught.
My cock aches, straining against the tightness of my boxers, the friction of every movement enough to make me grit my teeth. When I reach her, I spin her fast, slamming her chest against the wall hard enough to make the pictures rattle. My palms flatten over her hips, my mouth ghosting over the shell of her ear.
“The way I thank you is making you cum, princess.” My voice is shredded with lust and something darker, something that feels a lot like ownership. I run my hands up her body, slow and rough, dragging the fabric with me. I slip under her bra, fingers grazing the stiff peaks of her nipples. She shudders in my hands, so fucking responsive, so mine.
Without a second thought, I wrench her around, greedier than I mean to be. I yank her shirt up, shove the bra aside, and latch my mouth onto one tight nipple, sucking hard. She gasps, the sound shooting straight to my cock like a lightning bolt. My other hand grips her ass, squeezing hard enough to bruise.
“Please,” she whispers.
That one word shatters the last of my defenses.
I seize her mouth, devouring her, all tongue and teeth, no tenderness, no mercy. My hands map her body roughly,memorizing every inch. I grind my cock against her, desperate for more friction, more contact, more fucking everything.A low, desperate moan spills from her as I jam my hand into her pants, rubbing my knuckles against her soaked panties.
