He closes the gap between us and takes my hand.Maintaining eye contact, as if to ensure he has full consent, he guides it down to…
Oh.
Oh wow.
One would think I’m some naive, inexperienced little thing with how slow I was on the uptake just now.
Stefano is hard.Really hard.And packing.And commando.
Of its own volition, my traitorous hand…moves.Rubs along the unrestrained length of him through the soft black fabric, carnal heat radiating from him like a furnace.
“I—” I do this to him.Me.“Every time?”
“Every fucking time,” he replies.
“And how do you, uh...deal with it?”
“Wouldn’t have made it this far in life without a firm rein on my self-control, Delilah.”
I wet my lips.“So...does my being here right now mean you’ve lost that battle with your self-control?”
His eyes narrow, then soften, then goes flat.All in a blink.“You’re rubbing my cock right now, and I’m so hard I could fuck a hole through a wall.Still, I’m not bending you over this stool and ripping those pretty panties aside.”He tilts his head.“What does that tell you?”
A bolt of disappointment shoots through me and I rip my hand away.Why the hell did he bring me here, then, if not to fuck me?What, to prop me up like a freaking painting and just stare at me?
“So you’re just gonna walk around with a hard-on all weekend?”
“Been doing it since I met you.What’s another two days?”He takes a bite of his pastry and, almost mockingly, arches a maddening brow at me.“How’syourself-control?”
Before I can come up with a half-decent lie, his phone rings on the counter.Lorenzo’s name lights up the screen.
Stefano—a grown-ass man, head of his own empire, no one’s subordinate—presses a finger to his lips in the universalbe quietsign, then picks up the phone and walks out of the kitchen to answer it.
It’s hilarious, honestly.How he’s skulking around like some sneaky teenager throwing a forbidden house rager while his strict parents are out of town.He’s the boss, he can do whatever the hell he wants.So what’s with all the secrecy?
Something weird is going on between him and Lorenzo.And whatever it is, I have a feeling it’s goteverythingto do with me.
As I close the pastry container and start out of the kitchen, my phone chirps.
A text from Gio.
Gio:Hey, pretty eyes.Still at Black Gold?Wanna see you.
Me:Wow!Look who finally remembered I exist.
Gio:You thought I forgot you?Never.You’re like a virus in my brain.
Gio:I’ve just been busy.Miss hanging with you.
Me:Lol.You’re the definition of a player.
Gio:Where are you?I’ll come get you.
Me:In this weather?
Gio:I’d get struck by lightning a million times for you.Where?
I’m halfway through tapping out a response when my phone is rudely snatched from my hands.I whirl around to find Stefano standing there, looking peeved as he scans the screen.
