Page 177 of The Ache That Stayed

Fuck me.

The thin fabric clung to every dangerous curve of her body, dark hair falling loose over one shoulder while amber firelight slid across warm golden skin.

And Marcello—the bastard—sat stretched across one of the loungers with a whiskey in one hand and his iPad balanced against his thigh like this woman wasn’t standing half naked three feet away.

Roxanne walked straight toward him, climbed into his lap without hesitation, and plucked the iPad from his hands.

“No more work.”

Marcello barely looked up. “Five more minutes.”

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

“Because you’re distracting.”

“You seemed very focused to me.”

He took the iPad back smoothly. “That’s discipline.”

I tsked from the doorway. Roxanne turned slightly when she heard me and—

Christ.

That smile still hit me low and hard.

Marcello glanced up finally, gaze flicking toward me before settling back on her.

“He’s staring again.”

“Can you blame me? She looks absolutely ravishing and you’re busy looking into the screen. Stronzo,” I said honestly.

Roxanne laughed. Marcello muttered in Sicilian beneath his breath before setting the iPad and his glasses aside entirely at last.

“Happy now?”

“Much,” she said, kissing his cheek.

She slid off his lap slowly before turning toward me. A year later and she still wrecked me on sight. And yeah. I was absolutely fucked.

Because that was the thing about Roxanne. No matter how much time passed, my body still reacted to her like it had been denied something vital for years. And she still looked at me like she hadn’t fully gotten used to me being here either. Like part of her still found this impossible.

I crossed the room slowly until I reached her, my hands sliding instinctively down her waist before pulling her flush against my bare chest. Warm silk. Warm skin beneath. Fucking lethal combination.

Mine.

Not owned. Not possessed. Not in the clean way decent men loved. In the dangerous way, starving men looked at their last meal.

My mouth brushed slowly against hers. Soft at first. Then deeper like I’d been thinking about it all day. Because I had.

When she leaned into me with a quiet sound, it punched the air from my lungs. She rolled her hips against my cock slow enough to drive me fucking insane.

Behind her, Marcello took a slow sip of whiskey.

“Careful,” he said lazily. “She’ll forget I’m still in the room.”

Roxanne smiled against my mouth. “Impossible.”

I kissed her again anyway. Because I could. Because she let me. Because I’d spent too many years wanting her to waste the chance I’d finally been given.