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He shrugged. “I’m twenty-one, and that’s not even the main problem.”

“I’m eighteen and have been taking care of him for you. It’s not a matter of age.”

“He’ll be better off without me as his father, Rory. Nobody’s going to contradict me on that point.”

“I’d be better off without you too, but you don’t care about that.”

Battista started fussing, his lower lip wobbling. We shouldn’t be having this discussion with him in the room. He was only a baby, but he could pick up on our agitation.

Nevio’s expression became hard, then his lips pulled into a sharp smile. “With you, I’m not doing the noble thing. I want you too much for that.”

I shook my head, annoyed but also maddeningly flattered, which made me even angrier. I didn’t want to fall trap to Nevio’s manipulation. I picked up Battista, pushed to my feet, and moved to the doorway. “I’m getting him ready for bed now. You can leave.”

I turned, hoping he would be gone when I returned to the living room.

It took me almost two hours to get Battista to sleep. I should probably have tried to catch some sleep too, but I was still too agitated by the argument, and my sweet tooth was calling to me for a treat.

I trudged out of my room, past the thankfully empty living room, and into the kitchen where I froze. Nevio sat at the table, his feet propped up on another chair, watching something on his phone while eating Nutella straight from the glass with a spoon. That should have been my treat.

I lost it right then, right there, because of a bit of hazelnut spread. I staggered toward him and ripped the glass from his hand. It had been half full last time I’d checked. Now only another spoonful was left.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone? Instead you make my life more miserable by the day. You haven’t done a single nice thing for me yet.”

I turned and grabbed a spoon from the drawer, then ate the remains of the Nutella, glaring at the kitchen counters.

“Who would have thought Nutella would be the last straw.”

His sarcasm only fueled my anger. “It was the only thing that might have made a shitty evening better, and you ruined it.”

It was unreasonable to be this mad because of food, but Nevio had been trying my patience for too long.

The chair scratched over the floor, and his steps sounded behind me. I whirled on him.

“There’s Nutella on your face,” Nevio murmured, reaching out for the corner of my mouth. I snapped at him and bit his finger. His grin became feral as he calmly wiped me clean before licking his thumb.

“I could make this evening better, far better than a glass of Nutella ever could.”

“History says otherwise,” I muttered, but something in his eyes called to me. He cupped my neck and jerked me toward his body. “Let me prove it to you.” His lips claimed mine. I had every intention to shove him away, but he tasted of Nutella, of sin and dark promises, and I kissed him back. My entire body was aflame. Nevio was a master arsonist, and I was too willing to be set on fire by him.

His palms mapped my back, then grasped my hips and lifted me onto the counter. He stopped our kiss, to my utter surprise. His chest was heaving, so was mine, and desire swam in his dark eyes, so his ending our kiss made even less sense.

“This time, you won’t escape me. I won’t give you time to run.”

I didn’t understand what he meant.

Nevio dropped to his knees, taking me by surprise. It brought him to eye level with my knees and, thus, my most private area. Alarmed, I opened my mouth to protest, but he shoved my legs as far apart as they would go and hooked a finger under the crotch of my pajama shorts, pulling it aside. I never wore underwear under my pj’s, so I was completely bare to his eyes. My pussy glistened with the first hints of arousal, a fact that made me feel ashamed. “You’ll always remember me. My tongue in your pussy.”

I pushed my palm against his head despite the deep need surging through my body.

I’d sworn to myself not to sleep with Nevio again. Of course I’d also sworn to myself to never have any physical contact with him at all, and I’d failed constantly at the latter. I was worried I’d fail at the former too because despite my anxiety when I thought of our first night together, not just the pain but also the emotional turmoil, I still wanted to be with Nevio in every sense. My body yearned for his closeness.

“Rory, I’m going to lick you. We both want it.”

I swallowed because my core clenched when I imagined Nevio’s tongue and lips on me.

My arm muscles softened, allowing Nevio to move, and he didn’t need another invitation.

He pushed between my legs, his shoulders pressing into my thighs, and dove right between my pussy lips, swiping over my ass cheeks, my opening, and up to my clit.

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