Page 26 of Out of Control

I’m fucking sucker-punched.

It’s not like I forgot a single thing about her—the taste of her kiss, the scent of her skin, the sound of her sigh, the way she felt tightening around me—and yet until this moment, I might have put those thoughts to the back of my mind.

But they’re front and fucking center now.

I agreed to one night. I fought not to chase after her here on our home turf. To not show up at her front door, seek out her number, ask her goddamn brother for it—but I agreed to her request in the moment. I respect her enough to not go back on my word.

But fuck.

Standing here? Seeing her again? Having every quickened breath and stuttered moan replay in my head? It’s taking everything I have to not close the distance, drag her against me, and take another hit of her.

Christ.

I’ve relived every second of that night and it still isn’t enough.

I cross the space without breaking the hold of her stare. Carina gets whatever hint it is that I’m giving off and walks away.

Sofia’s smile flickers but is hesitant. “Mr. Rossi,” she says as I approach.

“Mr. Rossi?” I ask, my head spinning as she takes a step back. Mr. fucking Rossi? “Really? That’s how you’re going to greet me?”

“Yes. Hi. Look.” Her words are stunted, quick, as if she’s going to be in trouble for speaking to me.

My brother has warned me about you.

“You look gorgeous.” The words are out before I can stop them.

“Don’t do that,” she says, her head shaking back and forth.

“Do what?”

She glances around us before lowering her voice. “Don’t pretend like we’re something.”

“Or that I know you at all, huh?”

“You knew this was a one-time thing. You were okay with it. An in the moment thing. A—”

“I got the hint,” I respond. But I can also see that she’s affected by me. Her nipples have hardened against her shirt, and her pulse flutters against her throat.

“Just give me one night.”

“That’s all there can be.”

You agreed to those terms, Rossi, hard and fast and without hesitating, so now you need to live with them. Respect them. And especially when your body didn’t get the damn memo.

I glance at her tits, because . . . well, I’m a man and she’s stunning. And because I remember their weight in my hands and their smooth skin in my mouth.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “I mean it.”

I grin. “Okay, okay. We had our fun. You used me for your pleasure and it was—”

“It was a mistake,” she says quietly.

Of all the words she could have said, those sting. We both know it wasn’t anything near that. The chemistry was there. The lust was on point. The connection was indisputable.

“A mistake?” I repeat.

“Yes,” she whispers.