Page 19 of The Taste of Deceit

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, Daddy.”

I’ve got my earbuds in and am dancing around the kitchen while stirring a pot of chili when two hands suddenly wrap around my waist.

“Holy shit!”

I jump so hard I nearly sling chili across the stove. Ripping one of my earbuds out, I spin around to find Luca laughing behind me.

“Asshole.”

I slap his arm. He bends over laughing harder, one hand landing on the counter for support.

“You scared the hell out of me.”

“Baby Girl, you practically jumped out of your skin.”

“Because you snuck up on me like a serial killer.”

Luca gasps and clutches his chest.

“Wow.”

A grin tugs at the corner of my mouth despite my best efforts.

“Stop it.”

He immediately straightens and starts toward me with both hands raised.

“Am I allowed to touch you now?”

My eyes immediately drift to what he’s wearing. The black suit is tailored within an inch of its life. The white dress shirt underneath makes his tan skin stand out even more, and his sleeves are rolled back enough to expose the tattoos covering his forearms. It’s the same thing he wears almost every day, but somehow it never stops working on me.

“I guess.”

He doesn’t waste a second. One arm hooks around my waist, and he effortlessly pulls me against him.

God, this man is so fucking hot.

His body presses me back against the counter edge, the cool granite biting into my lower back through the fabric of his hoodie. It’s huge on me, sleeves bunched past my wrists, the hem riding up as he pulls me closer. One of his hands slides up my side, fingers grazing the soft cotton before slipping underneath the hem to find bare skin. His palm is warm and rough against my waist.

The other hand cups my jaw, tilting my face toward his.

“You have no idea what you do to me in my hoodie,” he murmurs, voice dropping. “Lookin’ all soft and mine.”

Before I can form a reply, his mouth crashes into mine.

It’s not gentle. It’s hungry and demanding, his tongue sliding against my lower lip until I part for him, letting him deepen the kiss. His grip on my hip tightens, fingers digging in as he angles me harder against the counter. I make a noise somewhere between a moan and a gasp, my hands fisting in the crisp fabric of his dress shirt.

He tastes like coffee, and his stubble scrapes against my chin, sending sparks through me. The chili can burn for all I care, but reality nudges back in. I break the kiss, breathless, pressing a hand against his chest.

“Luca, I need to finish dinner.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face. He steps back and rakes his eyes over me.

“Dinner?” he repeats, one eyebrow arching. “Baby Girl, I’ve already got my appetizer right here.”