Page 68 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

SANTINO

I can’t stop replaying the last few hours in my head, and the absolute whirlwind it has been.

To be able to have sat amongst my peers along with industry professionals that I’ve admired for longer than I can keep track of, felt surreal to say the least. That alone was enough for me, but to have heard my name called as the recipient of the outstanding restaurateur award, that’s the part I keep getting stuck on, because I never thought I’d get to this point, in my career, life, or in love.

And now, as I get out of the Uber and walk into my newly renovated townhouse, I get to celebrate after years of never thinking there would ever be anything involving me to celebrate, and I don’t get to do it alone. I get to do it with Lorena.

Excitement invades my fingertips, making it difficult to concentrate while twisting the key into the front door, so eager to see her. Especially if she listened and wore what I picked out for her.

Lorena has always had a style so uniquely her own.

Sexy without trying. Different but in an effortlessly subtle way, and I can say with confidence that she is the only person that’s ever made suspenders sexy.

And ever since I saw her come downstairs at her mom’s house in that outfit with the harness, ideas of what I want to do to her in a different kind of harness have flooded me.

Though as I walk through the door, expecting her to be sitting, waiting for me with a glass of the Malbec I picked up for her before going to Chicago for the awards, I’m instead met with the smell of food…cooking.

Pleasantly surprised, I head into the kitchen, and my jaw nearly drops on the floor when I see Lorena in nothing but the lingerie and harness with her back turned to me, swaying her hips as she stirs a pot of what smells to be sauce on the stove.

I want to run to her. Swoop her up in my arms and take her upstairs to what will be our bedroom, since I have no intention of spending another night sleeping in a bed that she isn’t hogging all the blankets with.

But for some reason, I remain with my feet planted on the ground, with the bouquet of already preserved flowers I bought for her scrunched in my hand and do something that has never come to me on its own — not until her, that is — relax.

I stand still, savoring her. Watching her swap her hips with the music blaring, cooking, and from the looks of it, enjoying it, is the equivalent of an aphrodisiac.

Seconds pass by and soon my savoring starts to edge me a little too much, watching her bend that perfect ass over, opening the oven door to check on whatever she has baking in there that smells delicious.

And fuck me.

How could I forget?

The lingerie set I got her has crotchless panties.

Enough looking. I need to touch her. Now.

I place the flowers on the table and move closer to her. It’s only when my hands meet her hips and I spin her around, that she finally realizes she isn’t alone.

She jumps back, damn near into the pot of sauce she has simmering on the stove. As I move her over to the side, hoisting her up onto the countertop, my heart lunges in my chest, now recognizing the aroma of what she’s cooking.

It’s the Amato family sauce that has been passed down from generation to generation on my dad’s side of the family.

When my mom died, and he decided to not be around much I, without much choice, decided to step up and be the one to cook for my brothers and me — and this sauce was a go-to that I made for us.

It reminded me of my mom. Although she didn’t grow up having pasta and sauce, she knew how important the recipe was to my dad’s family, so she learned the recipe.

The exact recipe that looks like it’s gone through war, with sauce splatters on the yellowed index card that’s resting on the countertop.

“You scared me.” Lorena giggles, wrapping her arms around me.

“Damn, Lo, is this what happens when you’re in Westchester, you forget your city girl ways and to be aware of your surroundings?” I joke back, pulling her in for a kiss.

The softness of her lips brings my entire body a source of comfort I’ve never felt before. I don’t want to stop kissing her. I never want to let her go. But Lorena, being Lorena, with the incessant need to get the last word in, breaks our kiss for a comeback.

“Shut up, Tino. I had the music playing. I was just preoccupied making us dinner.”

My lip becomes trapped beneath my teeth.

There’s a sentence I’d never thought I’d hear her say in lingerie…or in our kitchen.

“Say that again. I think I glitched.” I lower my lips to her neck, teasing her with gentle kisses.

“What?” she breathes through a subtle whimper. “That I’m making us dinner?”

“Mhm,” I murmur.

“You’re ridiculous,” she says, rolling her eyes.

I swoop her up from the counter into my arms and lean over to the stove dial to turn it off, as well as the oven. In a quick maneuver, I go to open the oven, but she clicks her tongue

“What are you doing?” she asks, unable to see from the angle I have her over my shoulder.

“Turning this off, so I can turn you on instead.”

“Santino.” She pats my back. “Hot hand.” She points to the oven mitt on the countertop.

I tsk. “How many times do we have to go over this? A hot hand is what you would have if you don’t use an oven mitt.”

She scoffs playfully. “Whatever, use it.”

I grab the oven mitt and take the garlic knots out of the oven. “You made these too?” I ask in genuine curiosity, though my question is met with a giggle.

“Please, don’t push your luck. The sauce was the first thing I decided to try. Those are store bought, same as the pasta. You’ll have to teach me how to make those.”

“I will. Just not tonight. because if I have to look at you in lingerie any longer without being able to have you while you’re cooking my family's sauce, to perfection, might I add, I will ...”

She interrupts me. “How do you know; you haven’t tasted it yet?”

“I can tell.”

“From smelling it?”

“Yes, and from the way it’s starting to bubble as it simmers.”

She lets out a long-winded sigh, grabbing my attention. “Yes?” I ask, keeping my hold on her, as I walk us to the bedroom.

“Nothing, I just thought that watching you cook was hot, but apparently hearing you talk about sauce does things to me too.”

Now upstairs, I lay her on the mattress centered on the floor. I literally just moved in and need to buy a furniture set, but I didn’t want to pick out anything yet without her approval, so the mattress on the floor it is for now.

She props herself up on her elbows, about to sit up, but as I kneel onto the mattress and crawl over her, she lowers back down.

Our lips touching but not yet kissing, I let her speak since I can tell she has something on her mind. “I’m proud of you.”

Four words.

That’s all she said.

Four words that somehow hit my heart more than the three words she’s already said to me — I love you — that I have replayed in my head an embarrassing number of times since she’s said them to me.

But these hit differently, because she’s the only person who matters to ever say them to me.

And suddenly, I feel like our roles have reversed.

In the beginning of our arrangement, Lorena craved the physical, so that we didn’t have to talk about our feelings and emotions, but that’s how I feel right now.

My throat feels tight. Words are quite literally escaping me as I follow my body’s lead by kissing her forehead, even though I want to kiss her mouth before I make my way to her pussy.

But she hasn’t stopped talking, and since I’m rendered speechless right now, I let her continue, needing to hear everything she’s saying, hanging on every word as she speaks it into the barren room.

I’m the one used to praising her, but hearing her praise feels like an elixir I didn’t know I needed.

“You’ve worked so hard, and you deserve everything coming your way.”

“Even you?” I ask, without hesitation, already sensing the answer in my heart, but sometimes I feel like I’m living in a dream.

Years of things never going my way, of losing so much, feeling like I’m on the verge of ruining everything, I need to know this is real. That we are. I need to hear that she’s mine, even if I feel it, I’ll never tire of hearing it come from her.

Though her response surprises me, as she sits up on the mattress. “Is that what you want?”

Lying her back down, I nod my head yes.

“What else do you want?” she says with the most delicious smirk.

“Oh, I think you know the answer to that.”

“I do, but I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you. Every hour of every day. When I’m happy, sad, and every emotion in between. I want you however and whenever I want.” Her face beams from my declaration of undying need for her. “How’s that sound?”

Left speechless, she nods in response.

“Good. Now that we have that settled, we can use these.” I lean over her, reaching for the wrist restraints I have tucked under the mattress that go with the harness.

There’s no missing the way her eyes light up as she watches me bring them into view.

Neither can I ignore the way her hips lift upward in heated excitement.

“Are those for me?”

“Yep. I remembered how much you liked it when I tied those pretty wrists with my apron, thought we needed an upgrade.”

Without me having to say anything else, she gets up and turns over, starting out on all fours, she gradually flattens her torso onto the mattress, with her cheek pressed flat on it, and her ass up in the air, bending both elbows back, gifting me her wrists.

“I take it you approve?” I know she does, those crotchless panties are highlighting her glistening cunt, all wet and ready…for me.

I place the restraints on both of her wrists then clasp them onto the harness.

“Tie me down,” she pleads in wanton need.

Kissing up her spine, I settle my mouth to her ear. “I just did.”

She turns her head. “You know what I mean. Make me yours forever.”