Yup, that’s intentional.He’s been here three nights in a row without a single misstep.Not a sound, not a breath too loud.If he’s making noise now, it’s because hewantsto wake me.
Why, though?What changed?There’s just no understanding this man.
But okay.I’ll play.
With a groggy moan, I shift and roll onto my back.Stretch a little.Letting my eyes flutter open, I scratch my neck and emit another low moan.Lazy and unfocused, like I’m still halfway in a dream.
He’s seated against the headboard, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles.
Feigning surprise, I crane my neck to look up at him, and find his impassive gaze already locked on me.“Wha—what are you doing here?”
“What does it look like?”He flicks his eyes back to the page.“I’m reading.”
“Okay, but...why are you inhere?”
“Because I want to be,” he says simply.“Problem?”
“Nope, not at all.It’s your house.”I stretch my arms above my head.“You can do whatever you want.”
His subtle glance at my chest doesn’t go unnoticed.
My girls are unrestrained beneath my white camisole, nipples imprinted through the thin fabric.Gio would be drooling over this view.But with Stefano, it’s never that simple.
Reading people has always been second nature for me.I’m able to tell exactly what someone wants from me on first meet.But when it comes to Stefano...I have no fucking clue.
Sure, there have been moments when his gaze lingered a little too long on my legs, my lips, the curve of my neck… But he’s never given methelook.Like hedesperatelydesired me.Like he wanted to split me open and fuck me ten ways from Sunday.
I’m not his type.That much is obvious.And sure, he asked to kiss me earlier.But it didn’t feel...real.Spur-of-the-moment?Maybe.Possessive?Possibly.Desirous?I’m not convinced.
His sudden interest in me has nothing to do with lust…I think.It feels more like curiosity.Like I’m a puzzle he hasn’t cracked yet.
An attraction not tome, but to the unknown.
Or maybe I’m reading it all wrong.Because that’s what he does to me.Muddles me, throws me off balance, turns my own instincts inside out.
And this…this isn’t me.
With anyone else, I’d know exactly where I stand.With Stefano, I’m just guessing and second-guessing.Worse,hoping.
“The last time I saw you, you were marching off to be anywhere I wasn’t,” I say.“So you’ll have to forgive my confusion, waking up to find you right next to me.”
He doesn’t miss a beat.“Do you feel, right now, the same way you felt five hours ago?”
“No.”
“Neither do I.”
“Fair point.”
He sets his book down on the nightstand.“What’s a trembler?”
Oh.That’s...not where I thought this was going.
“It’s a spring-loaded switch triggered by vibration, depending on how it’s set up.Think of it like, say, a land mine.Except with a land mine, there’s a chance to survive the initial trigger.A trembler switch is instant detonation.One slight vibration to that coil and it’s game over.”
“How do you know when a car’s rigged with one?”he asks.
“Experience.”I scratch my neck.“If you have experience with explosives, anti-handling devices, or just spent enough time in situations you don’t trust and know what to look for...certain things start to jump out at you.”
