She wasn’t, but the wine might help her get through this conversation.
“I’ll take a glass of liquid courage.”
He gestured toward the kitchen. On the way, she glanced into the living room, then the dining area. The furniture had been replaced with modern pieces that boasted soft curves and muted colors.
“I love the changes you’ve made,” she said.
Up went his eyebrows.
“I used to live here,” she said. “I was Colton Mitus’s biz manager for three years. His employees lived here with him. It was an unusual arrangement, but everyone loved it.”
They entered the kitchen, the familiar space making her smile. “I always loved this room.”
Luciano had updated the decor—five sleek black counter stools, a striking black dining table with six cushioned chairs—off-white Quartz counters, bright white kitchen cabinets, and Bertazzoni appliances. She glanced out the French doors to the expansive backyard and perfectly-placed swimming pool.
As she got situated on a counter stool, Luciano reached for two bottles of wine. And that’s when she glimpsed his ass.
Well, hello there.
Those tight pants hugged his backside and she locked in. Round, strong, muscular and so damn perfect. When he turned back, she was staring at his junk. Rather than panic, she gave him the once-over, slowly raking her gaze up and down, appreciating every physical thing about him.
“You’re not subtle,” he said.
“You dress well.”
He’s not buying that.
“You eye-fuck better.” His fiery gaze sent a ripple of excitement through her.
Ohmygod.
She couldn’t hold back her smile. “Touché.”
He set the bottles on the island, retrieved two stemless wine goblets. As he eased on the chair beside her, he said, “I started a women’s clothing line after designing Slash’s wedding gown. I have something that would be perfect for you?—”
“Not a wedding dress, I hope.”
“You’d lookperfettain a wedding gown, but no. I have a pair of Santini black pants and a white shirt that would be beautiful on you.”
She glanced down at herself. “I’m wearing a white shirt and black pants.”
“But you’re not wearingSantini.” He held up a bottle of white and a Santini Chianti.
“I heard you make a luxury whiskey,” she said. “Care to share?”
His smile set off a series of fireworks that sent her pulse racing. There was something completely addicting about seeing him smile. His bright, white teeth were almost perfect, save for a jutting left eye tooth. Somehow, that slight imperfection made him more human. As she homed in on that tooth, she fantasized about him standing behind her and biting her neck. She’d strip him naked, go down on him, then take him inside her. And she would get lost in everything Luciano. The bad would fade away, leaving only the sweet, sweet good.
“Mmm.” The sound floated from her before she could smother it.
As he reached into a cupboard, he asked, “Everything okay?”
“All good.”
Only my thoughts are very, very bad.
He poured them each a finger’s worth of amber-colored liquid, then returned to sit beside her and raised his glass. “To my new partner.”
They clinked glasses and drank. Simone rarely drank hard liquor, but as the whiskey wet her tongue, a medley of delicious tastes filled her mouth.
