A challenge. A trap.
“Are you going to?”
She opens the door and leans back against the wall, naked, suds rolling over her curves.
Fuck.
She’s so fucking beautiful it’s not fair that she exists, but I’m so glad she does. I drag my tongue over my bottom lip.
“I’m not going to touch you,” I warn as I take a step closer. “Not until you tell me you want me.”
I unbutton my shirt and her gaze strokes over me. She takes a slow breath. “And if I don’t?”
“Then I’m going to shower with you and keep my hands to myself.”
“Sure, sure. I bet your cock doesn’t like the sound of that,” she sasses.
“What happened to your awkward flirting, Lusia?”
“I think the awkward side got... knocked out,” she taps her temple.
I break my word. My hand catches hers before I can stop myself, pulling her close. I check her temple, searching for anything—any pain, any hesitation.
Her free hand drags my zipper down. My pulse slams. She steps closer, presses her lips to my chest—soft, warm, mine.
“You’re going to fuck me,” she decides.
“Is that so?”
Her dark eyes flick up, sharp, sure.
“You don’t get to look at me like you—like you don’t hate me, take care of me, let me bite you, sleep in the same bed as me—and not fuck me.”
Her fingers tighten in my shirt, dragging me down, daring me.
“Luisa,” I groan, my hands finding her face, rubbing my nose against hers.
Her lips hover close, so fucking close.
“If you kiss me, you have to fuck me,” she breathes. “Otherwise, it’s too sweet.”
I chuckle, low and dark. “Is it?”
“And I don’t like you sweet, Angelo. I remember that,” she murmurs, pulling herself closer to me, her nails grazing my abs as she jerks my jeans down.
Fuck.
She drags them lower, lower, until I step out of them, kicking them aside. Her hands are all over me—hungry, certain.
“You heard the doctor. I’m okay. No more brain swelling.” Her voice drops, teasing, but her eyes are serious. “I just have some memory issues.”
Her fingers curl around my waistband. “So remind me.”
“Yes. I’ve memorized it, Topolina,” I promise, fitting my mouth to hers.
She draws back. “I like ‘vita mia’ better.”
“You know that one?” I guess. “You remember me saying it?”
