I meet his eyes and keep my voice light. “I can’t,” I say. “I promised myself eight hours tonight.”
He tilts his head. “You can have eight hours here.”
“I think you know that’s not going to happen.”
His smile turns a bit wicked. “Maybe it won’t be eight hours, but I can guarantee you’ll sleep very well.”
He reaches for my hand, draws me closer, touches his lips softly to mine.
Chapter Thirty Two
Roberto
I brush her mouth once, then again, longer. She answers on instinct, the soft part of her opening to me, and I take it. Her hand comes up to my chest and curls in my shirt; the other finds my shoulder like she’s finding her balance.
“I should go,” she murmurs against my lips.
“After,” I say, and deepen the kiss before she can object. I angle her chin, fit her closer, let the pace slow and thicken.
When I taste her sigh, I slide my palm under the hem of her blouse and slide it upward. Her skin is hot under my hand. She makes that quiet and helpless sound I love and arches into me.
“Roberto,” she whispers, and it’s half warning, half need.
“I hear you,” I murmur, mouth still brushing hers. “Tell me to stop.”
She doesn’t.
I take the kiss deeper and pull her closer, letting her feel my hard cock. Her gasp ends on a long moan.
I let my hand roam farther up her shirt and slip a finger under her bra, stroking the soft skin. Her breath catches and her belly tightens. Her hips tilt into mine before she catches herself and pulls back an inch.
“I really have to go,” she says, breath unsteady. “Tomorrow’s—”
I find her ear, trace the edge of it with my teeth, and she melts, the resistance dropping out of her shoulders. Her head tips to give me more. My other hand settles at the small of her back and draws her flush. For a heartbeat, she’s all in—body, breath, the little stutter she can’t hide.
“Stay,” I say, low.
She swallows. “I can’t,” she says, but it’s softer now, like she’s trying to convince herself. I kiss the hinge of her jaw, the line below it, return to her mouth, and keep it slow, addictive, the way that unravels her. Her fingers slide up my chest to my neck; she holds me there and kisses me back like she’s starving.
I want to know exactly how far she’ll let me go with this. How far she’s willing to go to keep up her charade.
Another deep breath. Another pull away. “I promised myself an early night,” she says, eyes a little wild, lips swollen.
“You can have it here,” I tell her, thumb moving up to circle her hard nipple. Her head drops back, allowing me more access to the delicious skin of her throat. “Food, sex, sleep,” I murmur.
That earns the ghost of a smile. I chase it with my mouth, catch it, take more. Her hand slides into my hair as her tongue dances with mine.
“No,” she murmurs. Then again, stronger. “No. No.”
She presses both palms to my chest and pushes.
“No,” she says, breathless. She takes a couple of steps back, but I don’t let her.
I step forward and trap her between my body and the counter, caging her with my arms.
“No, what?” I say, a little harshly.
“I have to go,” she says, still out of breath.
