Page 59 of Bellini Born

“You’d better think real carefully about copping an attitude with me,dolcezza. You’re in no condition to be punished right now, but that won’t be enough to stop me from putting you over my knee.”

Guess that answered that question. Mr. Hot Daddy CEOdidgive out spankings.

Never in my life had I been more tempted to act like a brat and stick out my tongue in response to his warning.

But then I remembered how badly it currently hurt to even do so much as walk, and I held back. Because if last night proved anything, it was that he didn’t issue idle threats. He would absolutely spank my ass raw, and I couldn’t wait until I recovered enough to beg for the pleasure of experiencing that.

“Smart girl,” Matteo praised before turning to open the fridge.

When he bumped the stainless-steel door with his hip to close it, I got a good look at the ingredients he held.

Eggs, milk, butter, bacon.

Then he headed to the giant walk-in pantry and returned with flour, sugar, and baking powder.

My brows drew down. “Uh . . .”

Matteo peeked over his shoulder as he retrieved mixing bowls from one of the cabinet drawers. “Problem?”

“What in the world are you planning to make?” I mean, it was fairly obvious, but I wouldn’t be able to believe it until he said it.

“The plan was pancakes, eggs, and bacon, but I can do French toast instead if you’d prefer.”

A stunned exhale escaped my parted lips. “ForChristmasdinner?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Sure, why not? I don’t know about you, but I’m running on fumes, and keeping dinner informal enough that we can stay in our pajamas sounds like heaven.”

Almost as if on cue, a giant yawn split my face. Okay, maybe the man had a point.

Matteo gestured to the elaborate coffee machine, which took up a giant chunk of counter space. “Need a pick-me-up?”

I rested my arms atop the island. “Sure, why not? Could probably drink a gallon of the stuff right about now and still sleep like a baby tonight.”

Immediately, he went to work, fixing me a cup. “Speaking of sleeping babies. I never got around to asking what kind of voodoo magic you worked on Serafina.”

My head tilted to the side. “What are you talking about?”

Turning around, he leaned against the countertop. “Ever since the day you moved in, she’s been sleeping through the night.”

I shrugged. “Nothing special, really. It’s the same routine every night: bath, bottle, and bed. Probably just a coincidence that my arrival lined up with her achieving that milestone.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences.”

Snorting, I teased, “Is this the part where you tell me you make your own luck, too?”

A smirk tugged onto his lips. “Considering I’m usually the one wielding the gun and have no problem taking out anyone who poses even the slightest threat to me, my family, or my businesses? Yeah, I’d say that’s a pretty accurate statement.”

Yep, it was a total turn-on hearing the lengths he was willing to go in order to protect what was his.

He handed me a steaming mug, and I brought it to my lips, moaning when the rich flavor burst across my tastebuds.

A lewd groan had my eyes lifting to find Matteo staring at me with so much heat in his eyes that I felt my core temperature rising.

“You’re fucking killing me, Summer. Do you know what I wouldn’t give to lift you onto this island, peel those leggings down your thighs, and bury my face in your—“

“Ho, ho, ho!”

That was the only warning we got before Enzo sauntered into the kitchen, a giant bag of toys slung over his shoulder.