Page 121 of Unlock My Heart

My shoulder lifts unrepentant. “I’m no saint, but I’ll still be a gentleman until you tell me otherwise.”

She smirks. “Don’t hold your breath.”

One hundred and twenty minutes to win over my girl. God knows I’ll need every last one of them, down to the second.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Sienna

The present

Butterflies fluttering in my stomach? Acrid reflux from the pizza, not this silly little replay of our first “date.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” Fabien eyes me.

“What was the one thing you missed most about freedom while you were doing your time?” I ask instead.

“My heart,” he says without hesitation. “What was left of it was taken with you when you married Michele.”

Shielding what’s left of my own, I say dryly, “Pretty words, Fabien. Try again.”

He considers for a moment. “Other than everything about you, I missed the night sky. Before I was incarcerated, I spent my fair share of late-night hours, but I took looking up at the sky for granted. Took a lot of things for granted, and it cost me.”

His pointed look makes me shift in my seat. Needing something to do, I go for another piece of pizza, taking a bite. It’s long gone cold, but I can’t taste anything anyway, not with so many emotions buzzing between us.

I freeze when he reaches over and runs his finger along my bottom lip. Bringing it to his mouth, he licks the tomato sauce.

“You don’t always make good on your promises,” I blurt out.

“I know, baby. I know.” His voice is rough, his eyes a turbulent storm.

There’s a buzzing sound, and Fabien turns off the timer on his phone. “Two hours isn’t enough time.” He releases a harsh breath.

“We had our time. We blew it.” Tears threaten to fall, and I rise and hurry to the bedroom. A squeal escapes me as my feet leave the floor, and I’m hoisted over Fabien’s shoulder.

Fabien deposits me on the bed, and I watch in complete shock as he falls to his knees. “You’re hurting because of me, so take it out on me. Make me crawl. Make me beg. Make me bleed. Just make me yours again,” he pleads as he begins working on his tie.

I could stop him. I should stop him, but dammit, I’ve never been one for should.

The Italian silk flutters to the floor, followed by his suit jacket. His large fingers work the buttons of his dress shirt, it falling to the discard pile.

My eyes coast down his hard body, landing on the new tattoo. A cherry snowball with A Snowball’s Chance is inked over his muscular stomach.

My eighteen-year-old self’s assessment was wrong. Fabien was never too smooth for his own good; he was too smooth for mine.

Needing some semblance of control, I sit up, supported by the headboard. “Take off everything except your boxers.”

Based on his growl, I can’t tell whether he hates being bossed around, or he loves it. Either way, he complies, removing his loafers and getting to work on his leather belt. It’s snapped through the loops, and he brings it taught in his hands with an electrifying snap before tossing it in the discard pile.

My body thrums with anticipation as Fabien rises to remove his pants, and I suck in a breath at his huge erection barely hidden by his boxer-briefs.

“Back on your knees,” I order him in a sultry tone, and his knees kiss the carpet, a smirk on that handsome face of his. “Ready to be humbled?”

“Since the moment I met you,” he murmurs.

Far too smooth.

“We’ll see about that,” I challenge. “Crawl to me.” And just like that, our little game will come to a screeching halt. Despite Fabien’s pretty declarations, I can’t imagine this man crawling for anyone.