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“I can’t seem to un-fucking-glue myself from you since you showed up last night,” he rasped, eyes returning to my face. “But I won’t give you what you think you want, because it’d break you, I promise.”
“But?” I hoped there was more coming.
“The birthday kiss. I’ll give that to you. I don’t want some asshole putting his mouth on you tonight.”
“Oh, I ...”
“Save your virginity for someone you love. Don’t just give it to anyone.” There he was, that sweet, nice guy who gave a damn. He was trying to hide him. Conceal him under this facade he’d created. But even now he couldn’t help but be him. That made me want to cry for some reason. “You deserve better than what I can give you.”
I wasn’t sure why he felt that way, but I also wouldn’t refuse what he was willing to offer when I so desperately wanted to feel his mouth on mine. “Kiss me, then,” I pleaded, reaching for the lapel of his jacket.
He stared deep into my eyes, still unmoving, but when I arched into him to feel his cock, his restraint snapped. Hands darting up to cup my cheeks, he gently caressed my face as he slanted his mouth over mine.
His tongue skimmed the line of my lips, seeking entrance, and I gave it to him.
I moaned, struggling to comprehend how this felt like more than just a hot birthday kiss ... this was borderline life-altering.
His kiss turned more ravenous, and his hands slid into my hair, holding my head tight as his tongue stroked mine. He kept me pinned to the wall with his entire body, and I melted into him, gripping his forearms. An all-consuming kiss. It was almost as if I could absorb his pain and his passion within the space of those few brief seconds.
I was pretty sure he was equally stunned by whatever was happening between us, because the next thing I knew, he was breaking the kiss. Resting his forehead on mine, he inhaled a shaky breath and took a second to compose himself.
And now, part of me wished he’d never given me that moment ... because how in the world would I ever find someone to top that kiss? How would I move on from that?
He didn’t have to take my virginity to steal my heart.
He backed up and tapped his fist against his lips, lightly panting as he stared at me, appearing distraught. “Maria,” he began, a look of devastation on his face, “you have to promise me something.”
I gasped when he abruptly pulled me back to him, holding me tight to his frame with his hand at my back. “What?”
He brought his mouth to my ear, and my skin became hot and tingly. “Please, for the love of God,” he gruffly began, “never offer yourself to me again.”
ONE
Maria
Present Day—Charlotte, North Carolina
“How does it feel to be twenty-nine and a single mom?”
“Jeez, Ma. You could’ve at least opened up by wishing me a happy birthday first.” I turned to locate my favorite bartender, Christian, needing a drink to get through this conversation.
My sister and her husband, Ryan Rossi, threw me this surprise birthday party at her restaurant, Talia’s Tuscan Grill. Almost two years ago, my sister’s hard work paid off—she opened her own restaurant, and I was so damn proud of her.
There was no place I’d rather spend my birthday. Of course, the place was crowded with a bunch of people I either didn’t know or wouldn’t trust with a single secret of mine. But if a big, flashy party made my sister happy, I’d smile and make small talk with everyone.
Glancing down at the other end of the bar, I saw three of my old high school friends clamoring for more than just Christian’s cocktail skills. So much for making sure the birthday girl never has an empty glass.
“You know how we feel about divorce.” Mom dropped another not-so-stellar comment on me. Wrapping a hand over my shoulder, she urged me to face her. “We’re Catholic. Your father and I think—”
“What, that I should’ve stayed with Thomas even though he slept with other women?” I finally whirled around, giving up hope on that drink. “Cheating is a sin, Ma. I’m pretty sure that’s still frowned upon at the church.” I loved her to death, but she needed to let go and stop trying to run my life.
“You didn’t let me finish.” She dropped a dramatic sigh on me. “I was going to say that your father and I believe in the sanctity of marriage unless your husband is a cheating asshole.” She frowned at her accidental slip of a swear word. “Thomas was never right for you, and it was my fault I pushed you to marry him. I steered Natalia the wrong way in the past, too.” She showed me her palms as if in surrender. “You should celebrate being single at twenty-nine and enjoy your life. You know, meet new people, date a little. Maybe try some dating sites.”
“What?” I fake-laughed. “So I can get asked by a dozen different men my favorite color? No thank you.”
“Well, I promise I’m going to do my best not to play matchmaker anymore.”
My eyes widened in mock horror. Reaching for her, I joked, “Who are you, and what have you done with my mother?”
