Page 21 of I Would Beg For You
I have hated Valentino Andretti during all my time away, but what is it they say? Hate and love are two sides of the same coin.
In this moment, it strikes me as inevitable. We come from different worlds, from rival sides, yet we are made for each other. I am made for him—there’s no escaping it. As crazy as it sounds, I know this to be true from the deepest part of my soul. No one has ever captured my eye and my heart like him. I may be young, but the heart knows. I want it all from him. He didn’t want to give it to me before, but maybe now, he’s willing to give us a second chance?
I may get burned again, but going down in a blaze of glory? Everything in me screams I should take it.
So, I do, nodding up at the vines.
“This can almost pass for mistletoe,” I said, looking into his eyes. “If you want it to—”
I haven’t finished the last word before his mouth is on mine in a fierce, driven kiss.
His lips are hard yet soft, warm, demanding and taking with impunity. I don’t know when and how they part mine and his tongue slips into my mouth, seeking mine, tantalizing mine, sweeping in and out as his right arm sneaks around my waist to crush my body to his. His left palm cradles the back of my head as he presses his mouth to mine even harder, seeking, taking, plundering.
A moan curls up from my throat just as my knees go weak.
So, this is what it feels like to kiss Valentino Andretti and be kissed by him.
His arm tightens around me, as if he can feel my body going limp and slipping against his, even my palms on his tuxedo jacket failing to give me any support. The hand on the nape ofmy neck goes gentle suddenly, and I gasp as his lips leave mine to travel a hot trail from my jaw down the column of my neck.
Heat is erupting everywhere he is seeking my skin, my blood slow yet thundering at the same time in my entire body. My core is pulsating with need for him, wanting his tongue there, doing things to me like he was doing to my mouth just seconds that also feel like ages ago.
The sound of voices drawing close shake me from the stupor. Valentino goes stock-still.
A second later, he has released me and pushed me toward the railing, under the glow of the fairy lights.
“Naomi, my darling. What are you doing out here in this cold?”
It’s my father.
I gulp down hard, my hand going to my lips. I don’t need to touch them to know they’re swollen from Valentino’s passionate kiss. I can’t let him see me this way. Quickly, I retrieve the little tube of lip gloss in the purse attached to my wrist and swipe some on. The product kinda made me look like I’d just had filler injections done when I put it on earlier; maybe I can fib it’s the makeup’s fault.
“It was getting too warm inside,” I say, a little out of breath. “Plus, I needed to touch up my makeup.”
Chad or Thad is with my dad, like a silent robot who only knows how to nod. Even the smile looks forced and somewhat plastic.
My father frowns, staring at me.
If he were to find out Valentino was here and kissing me? He would go into a rage. Valentino is everything he doesn’t want touching his pristine political image. Not even a whiff of him. He takes the ‘clean family man’ image really seriously.
With him, I have to be Naomi Elaine Smith, daughter of on-the-rise local politician Joel Smith.
There’s no place for anyone, much less Valentino Andretti, in this pair that comes as if attached at the hip.
Valentino… Where is he? I pause, sensing eyes on me from the right, from the shadows at the far end of the balcony. No light will even catch on him, I know. There’s not even a white shirt to reflect something. Of course, at the most prestigious black-tie event of the year, Valentino walked in wearing all black.
But I know he’s there. I can feel him, his gaze like a sensuous caress on my exposed skin which breaks into goosebumps at the very thought.
“Naomi?”
I snap out of the sensual spell weaving itself on me. “Hmm?”
“Ah, look. The cold is getting to you,” my father remarks with a laugh. He misconstrued the goosebumps for what they really are—my reaction to the very thought of Valentino. “Come on, let’s get you inside. The mask reveal is about to start.”
It’s close to midnight, then. Everyone removes their masks as the clock chimes twelve, a nod to the new year that will kick in in a few days.
My father takes my hand and drapes my arm over his as we enter the ballroom.
“Ah, if only your mother were here…”
