Oh, God, every time he suggested we kiss, I realised I wanted it even more.
He’s using you. Don’t let these feelings grow. Stay guarded.
“Try being a decent man who doesn’t cut people’s ears off as a hobby, and I just might,” I forced the sass into my voice, masking how much he was affecting me with my bravado. I stepped back, breaking the power he had over me, and gave him a knowing smirk that matched his own.
“But you like me indecent,” he said, pressing his hand against the bulge in his suit trousers to readjust.
I lifted my chin, refusing to look atit, and strode past him.Cristo,I’d just figured out my type. Indecent, filthy and insane.
We made our way down to the underground garage for the first time, and I skidded to a stop in my heels when I saw his collection of supercars and motorcycles, along with a few vintage models. I walked slowly around the matte-black Lamborghini, admiring it. He strode over to an organised display of helmets and leather jackets, sifting through them before pulling one off.
“Here,” he said, walking back towards me, a helmet under each arm and a leather jacket. “You should wear this. It will be cold on the bike.”
My eyes widened. “Bike? Are we going on a bike?”
“Si,”he said, smirking at the horror on my face. He forced my arms through the sleeves, which were too long, then lifted the leather jacket onto my shoulders.
“What? Why? You have so many stunning cars. Can’t we take one of them?”
“You live in Rome, no?” he teased, and I glared at him. “The roads are busy at this time of night, and the quickest route is too narrow for cars to get through. Plus, parking is always a bitch. Not with this baby, though.” He patted the leather seat of a stunning red superbike that looked like a ticket to the next life. I’d seen him on that bike before, and it was fast. Very fast.
My head began to shake. “No. I’d really rather go by car and be late. Look at what I’m wearing, Sani.”
His face transformed into a devastating smile that made all the terror dissolve in an instant. I did not know why he was looking at me like that, but my God, he could right all the wrongs in the world with that smile.
“What?”
“You just called me Sani, and I wasn’t giving you an orgasm.”
That’s what was making him beam from ear to ear? Me calling him by his name? Gosh, this man and his quirks. I hadn’t even realised it had slipped out, but I refused to acknowledge what it might mean, or what he might think it meant.
“Can we take a car, please?” I batted my eyelashes and made praying hands because I really didn’t want to die tonight.
He stepped in front of me, helmet in hand, and held my gaze. “Are you scared,Bella Ribelle?”
“Of riding on the back of a death trap without a seatbelt, with a man obsessed with living life in the fast lane? Yes. I am terrified. I don’t want to be decapitated outside the Roman Forum.”
He chuckled as if I were being dramatic. For a second, I thought he might actually agree, but then he shoved the helmet onto my head and flipped the visor up so he could see my death stare.
“Come on,” he said. “You need to be pushed out of your comfort zone. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’ll love it.”
He swung his leg over the seat and shoved on his own helmet, balancing the powerful machine between his thighs. He gave me a curt nod, even though I still hadn’t moved. I rolled my eyes and stepped up to the bike, gripping his broad shoulders as I climbed on. Thank God for the slit in my dress, which had ridden up far too high as I bracketed his hips and then grabbed the back of the bike for support.
“Hold on to me. Not the bike,” he commanded.
I exhaled, sliding my arms around his torso and gripping his shirt like a koala. I felt his solid abs contract under my touch, and heat spread through my body,pooling between my legs.
He placed a hand on my bare thigh and squeezed, his wordless praise and affection leaving me light-headed. Then he started the roaring engine, and we were moving.
I slammed my eyes shut, a small squeal escaping my lips, and hugged him tighter as he increased speed on the main road. I felt his body vibrate with a chuckle and cursed him in my head for revelling in my fear.
“Open your eyes,Ribelle,” he ordered, shouting over the deafening noise as we weaved through traffic.
“No.” I shook my head, and the helmet banged against his back. “I’d rather not see my death coming.”
“Such a drama queen tonight,” he laughed. “You’re missing out on all the fun.”
I slowly peeled one eye open at a time and realised what he meant. With my eyes open, it felt far more thrilling than terrifying. I smiled, enjoying the smooth way we glided down the roads, but every time we turned a corner and the bike leaned too close to the ground, my stomach somersaulted, and I squeezed him hard enough to break a rib. That only seemed to amuse him more, and I swear he started doing it on purpose.
