“I know.” His tone is rough and gives nothing away. He continues to watch me.
“Stop it.” I move to the farthest corner of the elevator and lean against the wall with my arms crossed over my chest.
He tilts his head to the side, and his eyes roam over my face, searching. “Why?”
My throat thickens, choking on the truth. “Because I said so.”
Nico bites his bottom lip to stifle his laugh. “Sorry. Can’t stop. I enjoy staring at you. Trying to figure out what’s going on in that brilliant head of yours.”
Brilliant? How could he say that? He doesn’t even know me.
“Nothing going on up here.” I tap my temple and roll my eyes at him.
“Liar.” He places the takeout bag on the floor and mumbles, “I wonder.”
Nico takes two bold steps towards me. I put my hand out, and he stops, respecting my boundary. But for how long, I don’t know.
“Don’t,” I pant as if I’d run a marathon. My heart pounds in my throat as he takes another step forward.
“Don’t what? What am I missing, Savannah?”
Shivers wrack my body as Nico says my name for the first time since we met weeks ago. Each syllable pronounced in his gritty tone feels like a calloused caress to my senses.
“Help me understand because I know you can feel this attraction too. I’ve never experienced anything like this before.”
“Nico.” I say his name with an alarming level of yearning laced through each letter.
He shakes his head as if he’s waging a battle in his head. “Fuck it.”
Nico takes another determined step forward, bringing us toe to toe. My head falls back against the wall as I stare up at him. He’s so close that the heat of his body licks mine like the roaring flames of a wildfire. His gray eyes flicker with heat and desire.
Goddess above, please tell me lust is all this is. That this longing is just a wild and uncontrollable instant physical attraction.
He runs his index finger over my lips, and this time the temptation to lick it lingers in my mind and on the tip of my tongue.
“What are you doing to me?” he whispers.
“I could say the same to you,” I croak. The cracks in my resolve weaken enough for him to hear the meaning behind my words.
“Good.” He slips his tattooed hand, with the wordTrueinked on the knuckles, around my neck, gently gripping my throat. He softly caresses my jawline with his thumb.
The juxtaposition of his rough and tender hold sends my heart galloping. I’m vulnerable in this position, but as I stare into Nico’s eyes, I know he will never physically hurt me. He’s a protector. That thought is like a warm blanket of security falling over my shoulders.
I grip his shirt in my fists and, instead of pushing him away like my head says I should, I pull him in closer. “How is any of this good?”
“Tell me how it’s bad? Because from where I stand, all I can see is how good this could be. We could be.” His free arm winds around me like a snake coiling to strike, as his cinnamon breath caresses my lips, making my mouth water.
I am in so much trouble. I should pull away now and run. But I don’t. Instead, I press my breasts into his chest and lift onto my toes.
I should tell him who I’m related to. I should be able to resist him.
My tongue swipes across my bottom lip as I ready myself for the inevitable. Once he finds out, he’s going to walk away. Which is the best thing for all of us.
“It’s bad because I’m—”
“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head and presses his thumb to my bottom lip, cutting me off. “I don’t care what your reasons are. No more talking. No more thinking,mia gattina viziosa,” Nico says silkily, slipping into Italian and using the nickname he’s called me before.
My stomach flutters, and so does my pussy. The large hand holding my throat slides to the back of my neck before he buries his fingers in the hair at the nape and tugs. I gasp at the slight sting and the wave of prickling heat that washes over me and settles at the apex of my thighs.
