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A silence falls between us. I expect her to press for more details, but I’m grateful when she changes the subject, hopefully sensing this is hard for me to talk about. It’s like she knows what I need without me having to say it.

“Would you like kids one day? You are so good with Lexi and Elle, and I bet your nephew loves you,” she says, looking at me with affection in her eyes.

I shake my head, reaching for my whiskey and taking a sip. “No, that life isn’t for me,” I say bluntly, and something in her eyes dims at my words.

Another awkward silence falls between us as we continue to eat. It’s stifling, and I need to clear the air. “It’s, erm, my nephew’s birthday party tomorrow. Just a few people at my mom’s house. Would you like to come with me? I think he’d really like you.”

The light that I just dimmed flickers back into her eyes, and she smiles, covering her hand with mine. “I’d love to.”

A conversation alone with a woman, sharing a meal, is a foreign thing to me. But with her, it feels like the most natural thing. She seems more comfortable here this time, moving around my kitchen as if she’s always been here.

I clear the plates, washing them, drying them, putting them away, and she sits sipping her wine.

“You’re very tidy,” she comments, looking around my kitchen as she stands and moves around the island towards me.

“It’s how I like it, keeps me out of trouble,” I say, looking her up and down. I reach for the bottle of wine and hold it up, offering her another glass.

She worries her lower lip. “I won’t be able to drive if I have another.”

“You could always stay here,” I suggest, my tone low. I watch as her throat bobs when she swallows.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Do youwantto stay?” I reply, wanting her to have the choice.

She nods slowly, and my heart thumps wildly against my chest at the idea of having her all to myself. All night.

I begin pouring the wine, stopping when it’s almost at the top, then, stepping closer, pressing our bodies together. “Then I want you to stay,” I say, running the backs of my fingers against her soft cheek.

She leans into my touch, and I press a kiss to her head.

To my surprise, she asks, “What else do you want?” I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face at her question. A question I know she wouldn’t have had the courage to ask me a month ago.

I pluck the glass from her hand, taking a sip of the fruity wine before I place it on the island. I grip her hips and lift her, placing her on the marble counter and standing in between her legs, nuzzling my nose into her hair.

“You.”

She swallows so hard it’s almost audible.

I reach for the elastic in her hair and tug it free, letting her hair fall like waves of dark satin around her shoulders.

“I love your hair like this,” I say, tugging gently at the strands. A blush creeps across her make up free cheeks. Her dark lashes framing her amber eyes that are so hypnotic I could get lost in them, and I know I’d be grateful when I was unable to find my way back, because I think losing myself in Gabriella could be my new vice.

“Lie down,” I whisper as I guide her back onto the counter. She does without hesitation, and her willingness to do as I ask only makes me desire her more.

I smooth my hands down the inside of her thighs, parting them till her knees meet the counter. It’s then the scrap of material she calls underwear comes into view. The signature bows on the hips make it so easy to unwrap her. I let out a groan of approval, making her close her legs, but I clamp my hands down on her thighs.

“Keep them open,” I demand, and her chest rises and falls rapidly. I push up my shirt that hangs on her like a dress, revealing her toned stomach, and I lean down to press a kiss to her hot skin.

She jolts at the contact, and I repeat the movement, pushing the shirt up higher, exposing her breasts, and sweep my hands over them, her nipples puckering as a gasp escapes her lips. Her breasts fit in my hands perfectly and I roll my thumb over her now hard nipples, earning a moan that makes my dick twitch. I lean down further, taking one in my mouth, and suck as her back arches off the countertop and a hand clamps down on the back of my head.

“Yesss,” she hisses as I continue. She writhes beneath me, so responsive to my touch. I run my tongue between her breasts, down her body, and as I meet the lace of her panties, I begin untying the bows as if she were a gift and stand up, pulling the tiny piece of pink fabric away from her skin, exposing her glistening pussy.

I groan in appreciation. “So wet already, baby girl.” I pick up the glass of wine, taking another sip as my gaze meets Gabriella’s hooded eyes. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to taste you?” I lower down and swipe my tongue through her wet heat, and she sits up at lightning speed.

“Nooo,” she gasps, her breathing ragged.

“No? You don’t want me taste you?” I eye her curiously.