Page 8

8

ANGELO

I ’ve never met anyone like this woman and she has my full attention. Even though she acts so tough and aloof, I’ve caught glimpses of other things. Of a woman who hides behind some damn tall walls and was hurt deeply in her past. I’m not sure why I care or why I want her to open up to me. It makes no sense, especially knowing I’m a one-night kind of guy.

I don’t do serious relationships, but this Butterfly is making some very different ideas—dangerous ideas—begin to float through my mind.

Sitting back, giving her some space, I study her beautiful face. If I’m not careful, those bright, intelligent aqua eyes will suck me in and never let go like some kind of black hole. No, forget that. They’re more like a deep blue trench you find in the ocean. Those fathomless ones that seem almost bottomless.

Her dark hair frames her face and it’s long and loose, and I get the urge to run my fingers through it. To pull it hard. And don’t even get me started on her body. I have no doubt that endless, perfect curves are hidden beneath those clothes. She saw me without a stitch on and I kind of think I deserve to see her now. Tit for tat, right?

Once again, her focus moves to my mouth. I’ve kissed many women in my time and I know that look only too well. She wants me to kiss her. Not one to ever want to disappoint such a gorgeous woman, I reach over, place two fingers under her chin and tilt it up.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you want to be kissed,” I murmur, my voice husky.

She swallows hard. “Why would I want that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s been a while or maybe you’re feeling it, too.”

“Feeling what?”

“This crazy chemistry.” I trace my thumb over her full, bottom lip. “Are you going to deny it? Though it might just be easier to just prove you wrong.”

I lean in, and when she doesn’t pull back, I take that as encouragement. Slowly, not wanting to make her skittish, I brush my lips over hers, barely tasting her. It might be the most chaste kiss I’ve ever given a woman and when she pulls back and frowns, I know I messed up.

But not for the reason I think.

“That’s it?” she asks, looking so disappointed I’m not sure whether to laugh or be insulted.

Ah, so my little butterfly wants more. Damn, I like this feisty woman. Way, way too much.

Without commenting, I cup her face then go in for a second attempt. This time, however, I don’t hold back. Coaxing her lips apart, I sweep my tongue into her mouth and begin to explore. She tastes sweet and I deepen the kiss, demanding more from her. She responds, hesitantly at first, but then her arms wrap around my neck and she pulls me closer. I feel her body arch against mine, her breasts crushing against my chest, and I pull her even tighter to me. Until she’s practically sitting on my lap. The kiss goes on and on, and we take our time getting to know each other better. She might not want to talk to me but, damn, she’s more than eager to make up for it in kisses.

Eventually, we come up for air and those incredible aqua eyes of hers slow-blink at me. They’re bright with passion and I’m trying to process what exactly I’m feeling when she straddles my lap, grabs my face and slams her mouth against mine again.

Holy hell. Lust pounds through my veins and I kiss her back hard, my hands skimming down her back and curving over her ass. I squeeze and lift her higher, placing her core right where I need it—against my throbbing dick. She wiggles slightly and I groan into her mouth.

Suddenly, things go from wickedly slow to fast and furious. Our kisses become that hot, all-consuming kind. Deep, wet, needy. I rock my hips up and she momentarily freezes then slowly begins to grind against me.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I rasp, dropping my face down to her neck and sucking on the delicate skin there. My hands move to her hips, helping her to find her rhythm, encouraging her to keep moving. Damn, I only have my gym shorts on and the friction is going to kill me, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take.

I’m hyped up on adrenaline from being chased and from this gorgeous woman who smells like a lavender bud and moves like a desperate angel. My hands slide under the hem of her tanktop, hook onto the sides of her jeans and skim over to the button above her zipper. But the moment I unfasten it, she pulls away, hands pushing against my chest, breathing hard. She’s staring at me, eyes a little dazed, and I let go of her jeans. Instead, I grip her hips again.

“Too fast?”

Suddenly, the badass I’ve seen all night turns into a shy woman I barely recognize.

“A little,” she whispers. “I thought…”

I wait for her to complete the thought, but she merely shakes her head and presses her lips together.

“You thought what?” I press. Instead of answering, she slides off my lap and I reluctantly let go.

“I thought I could be someone I’m not,” she admits in a quiet voice.

“And who’s that?”

For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know,” she finally whispers. She sounds so lost, so forlorn that it makes my chest tighten.

“Maybe the better question,” I amend, “is who are you?”

“Someone who got you into a lot of trouble and I really am sorry about that.”

I reach out and pluck her hand up, lightly caressing her slender fingers. “There’s no need to apologize. Honestly, this has been one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time. Maybe ever.”

Her brow knits together in a frown. “You think having people hunt you down and try to kill you is a good night?”

“No. I think meeting you made it a good night.”

Her pretty face flushes and our fingers keep tangling and untangling. “You’re such a charmer.”

My mouth edges up. “True. But, lately, my life has been boring and predictable. You spiced it up and I think I needed that.”

“I’m going to do everything in my power to get us out of this situation,” she promises.

“And afterwards?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m thinking after all the trouble and stress you put me through tonight, you at least owe me a date.” I keep my tone teasing and light, but I mean it. I want to take her out, spoil her rotten and then take her to bed and give her so much pleasure, she’s going to be screaming for more.

She just blinks at me like she’s never heard the term before.

“Well? What do you say? I know the best Italian place in the city.”

“Um. I—” Her voice falters. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Ouch. That hurt. Most women are chasing after me for a date. Setting my bruised ego aside, I tilt my head and try to make light of her rejection. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. “What? You don’t like Italian?”

“No, it’s just…a complicated situation.”

“Not on my end.” I lift her hand up, turn it over and press my lips against her soft palm. “I like you. And I’d like to get to know you better.”

My fingers trail up to her wrist before I release her hand, and I can’t miss how hard her pulse is hammering.

“Just think about it,” I coax. “Because after we live through this, which we will, then we’ll want to go out and celebrate, don’t you think?”

A strange look passes over her face, but she doesn’t answer. Instead, she clears her throat and shifts uneasily.

“Did I say something wrong?” Damn, she’s hard to read.

“Nope. I’m just on edge.” She stands up and moves over to the window, brushing the curtain aside just enough to peer out into the dark night.

Yeah, I messed up. Probably had something to do with rubbing my unruly dick against her pussy before even knowing her name. But, in my defense, I’ve asked for that information. Several times. My mysterious, little butterfly refuses to give it to me, though, for some reason.

Without turning around, she says, “You should go try to get some rest.”

Rest? Is she kidding me? My body is wide awake, buzzing with lust, and burning for her. There’s no way I could fall asleep right now. Especially with the massive hard-on I’m sporting. “I’m too hyped up to sleep,” I tell her, shifting and trying to get more comfortable. Trying to hide the evidence of my desire.

Out of nowhere, a thought crosses my mind. Is she hoping I’ll go to sleep so she can run out on me? If she plans to disappear on me, which isn’t all that hard to believe, I want more to remember. I need another taste of her sweetness.

Standing up, I walk over and she immediately grabs my arm, pulling me aside. “Not in front of the windows,” she says, voice full of concern.

I frown. “You think someone’s out there watching?”

“I hope not, but maybe. Who knows?” She frowns. “You really should get some sleep.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve never been a good sleeper. A few hours a night is all I’ve ever needed.”

I get the feeling she lives her life not only on the edge, but also with one eye always open. As though an enemy could appear at any moment and attack. I’m surprised she doesn’t have massive dark circles under those gorgeous aquamarine-colored eyes.

“I’m really not tired,” I say, reaching for her hands and pulling her closer.

Her brow shoots up and, once again, her attention focuses on my mouth.

“Keep looking at my mouth like that and I’m going to start thinking you want me to kiss you again.”

“I do,” she whispers breathlessly. Zero hesitation.

“Well, then, flit on over here, Butterfly.” I can’t help but grin, and she rewards me with a shy smile.

“One kiss,” she murmurs. “Then you go lay down in the bedroom.”

“One kiss, but then I go sit back down on the couch and help you keep watch,” I amend.

“Fine,” she relents, catching me by surprise when she grabs my t-shirt and yanks me closer. Our mouths collide and my entire world tilts as we share another epic kiss. For a moment, I let her take control. I’m curious to see what she’ll do since she seems a little hesitant sometimes. Her soft tongue sweeps across my lower lip and I stifle a groan, resisting the urge to nip. No hesitancy there.

Christ, this woman is getting under my skin, but in the best possible way. After I let her take charge for a minute, I take it back, arching her back at the waist, deepening the kiss, exploring every crevice and corner until we’re both panting.

Not wanting to push her, I slowly drag her back up to a standing position and our gazes lock. When she wobbles slightly, I steady her and then press a kiss to the tip of her pert, little nose.

She lets out a surprised laugh and I grin. “You’re fucking adorable, la mia farfalla .”

“What’s that mean?” she asks.

“Italian for ‘my little butterfly.’ I guess that’s what I have to call you until you tell me your real name.”

She hesitates. “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“If you say so.” I drop another kiss on her lips then nod to the sofa. “I’ll be over there if you need me. If you decide you need a few more kisses.”

With a sultry look, I turn around and amble over to the lumpy couch. And, yeah, I may be strutting a little more than usual because I just kissed the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.

I’m officially obsessed.

And I don’t even know her damn name.