She leans her head back against my shoulder looking up at me. Her mouth is so close to mine. For half a second, my brain short circuits completely, looking down at her like that, her expression so open, her mouth so God damn fuckable.
“If you want to eat, we need to shape the gnocchi, and get it in the oven,” she says softly.
“Is ‘get it in the oven’ a euphemism for getting my cock in your ass, princess?”
Before she can respond, my phone rings. FUCK. She doesn’t move at first, staying caged between my arms, looking up at me with those endless brown eyes, but when it rings a second time, she steps away.
I exhale hard through my teeth, scrubbing a hand over my face. Saved by the bell, I guess.
13
Sophie
The street is quiet, the apartment dark and empty when I unlock the front door after my day at work. No Vin. Disappointment washes over me, but I shake it off. He’s busy. He’s important. He’s Vincenzo Demonio, and I’m just—
Stop it, Sophie.
Biting back my disappointment, I put the boxes of saltimbocca wrapped in prosciutto and the gnocchi we made into the fridge then leave a note on an empty plate for him:Dinner’s in the fridge. Heat at 350 for 10 minutes.
I peel off my work clothes, my body aching, and head for the shower. The hot water beats against my shoulders, steam filling the tiny bathroom until I can barely see my hand in front of my face. I let myself imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like if he were here. If those massive hands were the ones washing my hair, sliding soap across my skin, gripping my hips and—
Ugh. STOP.
I wrap my hair in a towel and slip into my favorite little silky robe and pad barefoot into the kitchen for water. Filling a glass from a bottle in the fridge, I stand in front of the open door and drink deeply, the cool air on my skin as the robe parts slightly.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
The words are breathed low, but I nearly jump out of my skin and scream as the glass slips out of my hand. I whirl around to see Vin sitting at the table in the shadows, fork frozen halfway to his mouth, eyes locked on me.
“Oh my gosh! VIN!” My hands fly to clutch my robe closed, but when I look down I realize that it’s not at all helpful. The water is making the fabric cling to my breasts, and my hard nipples are making it worse. “You scared me!”
He’s on his feet instantly, coming around the counter with that protective look that makes me freaking melt.
“Fuck, I didn’t mean to—here.” He grabs a kitchen towel and presses it against my chest, but his eyes never leave my breasts.
We’re so close I can smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke clinging to his suit jacket. I try to take the towel from him but he doesn’t let me.
“Your dinner.” I try to make my voice even to mask my embarrassment. “You like it?”
His gaze finally lifts to my face, something molten and hungry swimming in those dark eyes. “Fucking incredible.”
His knuckles brush the underside of my breast through the wet silk and we both take a half step back, startled. His hand instinctively moves to his pocket, pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes.
“No smoking in the house,” I say, and a slow grin spreads across his face.
Shaking his head at me, he stuffs the pack back in his pocket without complaint, never breaking eye contact. “Yes, ma’am.”
The words send a shot of heat pooling low in my belly, and I head toward my bedroom, laughing and covering myself. “Sorry to be such a downer! Maybe you should go stay with one of your girlfriends.”
“I don’t have girlfriends, princess.”
In my room, I quickly toss my wet robe and pull on a tank top and shorts then head back to the kitchen.
“One of your women, then. Like Valentina.”
“I will never stay with her ever again.” Something in his voice is so hard, that I stop as darkness flashes across his face.
I nod slowly, my wet hair dripping down my back. “Okay, not her but someone like her.”
