"You deserved it," I manage, but my voice comes out breathier than I intended.
"Did I?" His hands slide higher on my thighs, thumbs tracing patterns through the denim of my jeans. "Because from where I am standing, you are the one who escalated things."
"You put soap on my face!"
"And you dumped water on my shirt." He plucks at the wet fabric with one hand, pulling it away from his chest. "Look at this. Ruined."
"It is water. It will dry."
"Maybe." He leans in closer, close enough that I can smell his cologne mixed with dish soap and something uniquely Luca. "Or maybe I should get you just as wet. Fair is fair."
"Don’t you dare." I press my hands against his chest in warning, but the movement is half-hearted at best. "Luca, I am serious, if you dunk me in that sink?—"
"Who said anything about the sink?" His mouth curves into a wicked smile, and his hands slide higher, fingers digging into my hips as he pulls me forward until I am perched on the very edge of the counter, pressed against him. "I have much better ideas."
My breathing picks up, my hands sliding from his chest to loop around his neck without conscious thought. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." He leans in, his nose brushing against mine, his breath warm against my lips. "Want to hear them?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe," he repeats, and I can hear the laughter in his voice. "Such enthusiasm."
"I am very enthusiastic," I protest weakly, and then I can’t protest anymore because his mouth is on mine.
He kisses me like he has been thinking about it all afternoon—which, knowing Luca, he probably has. His hands slide up my back, pulling me closer, and I arch into him, my fingers threading through his hair and tugging slightly the way I have learned he likes.
He groans into my mouth, the sound vibrating through both of us, and deepens the kiss until I am dizzy with it, until I forget weare in the kitchen in the middle of the afternoon with dishes still in the sink and water dripping onto the floor.
His mouth moves from my lips to my jaw, kissing a trail down to my neck, and I tilt my head back to give him better access, my eyes fluttering closed.
"Luca," I breathe, and his name comes out almost reverent.
"Right here, Lina." His teeth graze the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder, and I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders through his wet shirt. "I’ve got you."
His hands find the hem of my t-shirt, fingers slipping beneath to find bare skin, and I shiver at the contact. He traces patterns on my lower back, each touch deliberate, teasing, making me want more.
"Luca—" I start, but whatever I was going to say dies when I hear footsteps.
"Are you two ever not seconds from fucking?" Gabriel's voice cuts through the haze of want, dry and amused. I jerk my head up to find him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching us with those sharp gray eyes that miss nothing. Dante is right behind him, his dark eyes immediately zeroing in on where Luca's hands are on my body.
Heat floods my cheeks, but Luca does not move. His hands stay on my waist, his body still pressed between my legs, and when I glance at his face I see no embarrassment. Just heat. Just want. Just that wicked grin that means he is up to something.
"Don't be jealous when you could join instead," Luca says, his eyes never leaving mine. He slides one hand higher on my thigh,making me gasp. "Right, Rosa? You'll be a good girl and let Dante and Gabe play too, won't you?"
"Yes," I manage, my voice slightly strangled with desire.
"Look at how generous you're being, Bella," Gabriel says, pushing off the doorframe and moving into the room with that predatory grace he has. Dante follows, slower, more controlled, but his eyes are just as dark, just as hungry.
"Very generous," Dante agrees, his voice a low rumble that sends heat pooling in my belly. "Though I'm not sure 'generous' is the word I'd use."
"What word would you use?" Luca asks, tilting his head, his fingers tracing patterns on my inner thigh.
"Greedy," Dante says, stopping beside Gabriel. The two of them together—watching me with identical expressions of controlled desire—makes my mouth go dry. "Our girl wants all of us at once."
"Is that true, Flower?" Gabriel's eyes search mine. "Is that what you want?"
The air in the kitchen has changed. Gone thick and heavy with something I can't quite name but can definitely feel. The way they are all looking at me—Luca with open heat, Gabriel and Dante with controlled hunger—makes my skin feel too tight.
