Page 25 of Disarming Caine

“And if it fails, and you do become pregnant, we’ll get married and—”

The smile rapidly switched to a frown and she smacked my chest. “That was not part of the discussion!”

“It was in the discussion inmyhead.” I pinched her leg and she knocked the hand away, but I snuck it back. To the spot she had allowed and no higher.

Perhaps an inch higher.

Shaking her head, she said no more on the subject, but she didn’t say no. She was so guarded emotionally, but I found this worked. Bring up an idea she was uncomfortable with, laugh it off, and let her mull it over until she realized she was comfortable with it after all. It had taken many such nudges for her to go on a date with me in the first place and there would be a great deal more in our future.

This visit would undoubtedly be full of them.

Chapter 9

Samantha

Oncewewerepastthe front desk in the Brenton Arms, our pace increased exponentially. The closer to my room, the faster we got. When I stopped at my door, at the end of the hall, he swept my jacket to the side and grabbed my hips from behind. He pressed against me, already hard.

This was going to be a long night.

“Open the door.” His voice was muffled as he ran his mouth along my neck.

My inner muscles clenched and released, whining for him, and I braced a hand against the wall, blood thundering in my ears. “I can’t while you’re doing that.”

He hauled my skirt hem up at the side, thrusting a hand underneath to stroke the outside of my underwear. “Shut up and open it before I tear your clothes off right here.”

I fumbled in my purse for the keycard, shuddering to a halt as he dragged his teeth along my earlobe and slipped a finger inside my panties. With a deep breath, I snatched the card, swiped it across the lock, and it clicked. He spun me to face him, pinning me against the door, and his mouth captured mine. It was a demanding kiss, all tongue and teeth. He turned the handle and we stumbled in.

Before the door swung shut, my purse hit the floor. Our jackets somewhere near the closet. Another step in. He pulled at a button on my blouse, unable to undo it. With a quick tug, buttons went flying, and he ripped it off me.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” His breath came in bursts, his touch rough and urgent.

My hands clutched in his hair, across his back, on his face, and my tongue couldn’t get enough of his. Pulling his shirt out of his pants, I dragged my nails along the powerful muscles lining his spine. God, I’d missed his body. I hoisted my skirt and grabbed his neck. He caught me when I leaped, wrapping my legs around his waist. I squeezed tight, unable to get close enough to him. Not getting enough friction.

“Marone, you’re strong,” he murmured into my mouth as we slammed against the wall of the entryway.

“Ow!” The light over the sitting room flickered on, and my back arched away from the switch. He grinned wickedly and carried me past the kitchenette to a couch, where we collapsed as one. I pushed him off, far enough I could unbuckle his belt. Before I could progress to his pants, he leaned one arm on the back of the couch, his broad shoulders flexing as he dipped down, making a trail with his hungry tongue along the edge of my bra.

“I’ve studied the most beautiful art ever created.” He eased the fabric of one bra cup down, rolling my nipple between his lips and sucking it into his mouth.

I gulped in air, surrounded by his delicious vanilla and amber scent. The button on his pants was too far away.

“But your body—” His gaze rose to meet mine, jaw flexed and nostrils flared. The need in those eyes stabbed into my core, heightening the throbbing inside me. “—is the most breathtaking canvas in all the world.”

I curled my fists in his shirt, forcing his face to mine. My body was craving his touch. Not his words. “Shut up and take me to the bed. I hate this fucking couch.”

I latched on with my legs and he wrapped one arm around my lower back, straightening without effort. Our mouths locked together, and I clutched a handful of his hair. We rounded the couch, past the dim light shining through the balcony door, and turned to the bedroom. He grunted as he ran into a side table next to the second couch and took a step backward to regain his balance.

A deafening crack echoed through the evening—a gush of air whooshed behind me—an instant before the overhead light went out.

We were plunged into near darkness.

Chapter 10

Antonio

“Cazzo!”Thatwasabullet! I dropped us to the floor, rotating my body to cushion her descent.But she crashed onto the table anyway, crying out as she did. Frantic voices erupted from the hotel rooms around us.

Ice flowed through my veins. Was her reaction from hitting the table or had the bullet grazed her on the way past?