They’re our enemies.
“Kiss me,” he whispers. Using the hand cradling my neck, he gently pushes against it, guiding my head forward until our foreheads rest against each other.
Blood rushes to my head, the thumping of my heart beating as loudly as a drum while it wages a war against my brain.
All because of a name.
A man with any other name would still be a man.
But he’s aLucchetti.
A small whimper floats from between my lips and I close my eyes, mentally begging myself to find the courage to do what he’s asking.
I want to.
So badly.
“Kiss me, Vincenza. Kiss me until we forget who we are and the wall that’s supposed to be between us. Kiss me until everything fades away.Please, piccola ladra.”
His plea ruptures any remaining hesitancy I have, and with the smallest of tilts, our lips connect.
Our kiss starts slow, unmoving and gentle, before it blossoms intomore. His tongue softly traces the seam, and when my lips part, everything intensifies.
Suddenly he’s standing, lifting me by my waist until my backside hits the counter. Stepping between my legs, his lips never leave mine.
Our movements are rushed. My hands roam the hard planes of his shoulders while his grip the sides of my thighs, slide against my hips, then reconnect with the back of my neck. I’m seeing stars, lost in the moment, with every one of my senses in overdrive.
His lips are hot against mine, his hand tangling in my hair as he pulls me close, guiding me with every fevered nip and caress of his tongue.
Nothing in my life could have prepared me for this kiss.
I never want to come up for air.
Scooting closer to the edge of the counter, my body aligns with his. There’s not a nerve ending that isn’t electrified. Our bodies melt together as our mouths explore, while all thoughts fade away, just like he wanted.
Instinctually, my hips rock, the friction causing me to moan against his lips.
“Fuck, Vinnie,” he groans, moving his hand back down to my thigh.
Swallowing thickly, the breath catches in my throat as his hand moves higher on my leg.
A plea for more is at the tip of my tongue, when suddenly the shrill ring of my phone sounds from the living room.
Startled, we break the kiss, but our foreheads remain together as we catch our breath. Seconds later, the ringing stops, but I don’t let go of my hold on him, and he doesn’t step away.
It feels like forever when he whispers two words. Two beautiful Italian words–neither of which I know the meaning of. “Piccola ladra.”
“What does that mean?” I whisper, my voice thick with desire.
His hand untangles from my hair and glides fromthe back of my neck to the front. A chill rushes through me, my skin sensitive—heightened by his touch. I’m too afraid to open my eyes, not ready to wake up from this dream.
Brushing his thumb against my swollen lips, I can practicallyhearhis smile. “Little thief,” he responds simply, with no further explanation.
I want to question it and ask why he would call me that, but the words are forgotten when he tilts my face closer and kisses me again.
Chapter 18
Vinnie
