Page 34

She puts a slice of pizza on my plate for me and leans against the furthest counter from me. It’s annoying, but also a relief. If she were any closer, I’d be unable to control myself. Even as it is now, I’m struggling.

I practically swallow the pizza slice whole in an effort to get out of the kitchen as fast as possible.

She’s taking small, nervous bites and not looking at me.

I set my plate down in the empty sink.

“That was good. Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning,” I say hurriedly.

“Sleep well,” she smiles sweetly, taking another bite of pizza.

“Oh—I almost forgot. Tomorrow night, you should be ready for dinner at seven. We are going out.”

She tilts her head to the side, questions in her eyes. But she’s chewing, and I need to get out of here.

I throw her one last smile and then hurry up the stairs back to my room.

I need to be more careful around her.

Last time I kissed her, I almost lost my mind. And it’s still haunting me. I don’t know what will happen if I get into that situation again.

I don’t trust myself.

Chapter 10 - Lara

I’m tiptoeing around Nestor every day. I can’t believe I agreed to stay with him if he paid my debts. It makes me ill to think about how I was fine with selling myself like that. Although he hasn’t made any strange or awkward demands on me, and he’s been keeping a polite distance.

I admit, my attraction to him is something I’m struggling with. He clearly feels the same way about me. There have been a number of very tense, very intimate moments, but both of us have been avoiding another situation like the kiss.

But now tonight he’s taking me to dinner. There is no way to avoid being around him if we’re out for the evening.

I’m standing in front of my closet, wrapped in a silk robe, fresh out of the shower.

My hair is already pinned up in a messy bun on top of my head, I did some light makeup, and now I’m trying to decide what to wear.

I toss another dress onto the bed, wondering what I’m supposed to make of all this. I have no idea where we’re going, or if it’s just us or if it includes other people, like business partners or something.

The more I think about it, the more nervous I get, because I literally know nothing about his life—where he likes to go, what his favorite foods are, the type of people he hangs out with. Or what he expects from me.

I toss a fourth and a fifth dress onto the bed and stare at them all, trying to decide which one might work for something fancyandsomething relaxed, seeing as he’s told me nothing.

Eventually, I settle on the little black number. It’s always the trusted go-to when you can’t figure anything else out.

Shrugging my robe off my shoulders, I let it fall to the floor.

I step into the black dress and wiggle the fitted style over my hips, slipping my arms into the long sleeves and then maneuvering with a bit of skill to try and grab the zipper at the back.

I hear a chuckle coming from the bedroom door and realize I’ve left it open. Spinning around in fright, embarrassed to be caught in this ridiculous position, I find myself looking right at Nestor. He’s wearing black pants, a white shirt, and black suspenders, looking fine as all hell.

The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, and I can see the top of his skull tattoo on his chest. His sleeves are half-rolled, and his toned forearms flex as he shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Can I help you with that?” he asks, already walking towards me.

“Ok,” I say, turning my back to him, relieved to be able to hide my blushing cheeks.

He first brushes his fingers down my bare skin, from the top of my neck, just below my hair line, over my spine, to the base of my back just above my ass. Then slowly he pulls the zip up. His fingers brushing against my skin all over again.

Goosebumps break out over my body, and a warm shiver of delight runs through me.