Page 55 of Falling for Mr. October

“Why’d you do that?” she asks.

I gesture at the door. Beyond it, I can hear rapid-fire conversation, so it would seem the nonnas are ushering Mr. Mayor off with plenty of commentary.

Good. It shouldn’t be easy for him. He’s a prick, no question about it. I knew it from what Bianca said, obviously, but the moment he opened his mouth, his smarmy-little-fuck status was verified. He deserves worse than an inquisition from a couple of nosy nonnas. A man like that should be fed to the wolves.

Bianca’s still staring at me, so I say, “Tell off that asshole? I wanted to. It felt really good. I enjoyed every minute of it.”

“You know what I mean.” Her voice is almost shaking, and I realize she’s genuinely distressed. Crap. I didn’t mean to upset her. I hadn’t even known it was within my power to do so.

“I thought you wanted me to pretend we were in a relationship.”

“Sure, but you went above and beyond. You didn’t have to cut a deal with him.”

I laugh, because although I hadn’t gone into that conversation intending to do that, there’s no denying it happened. “I think I did. Mr. Mayor doesn’t talk in any other language, and I liked watching him squirm. Didn’t you?”

She smiles despite herself. “I’ve never seen that expression on his face before.”

“You think he was sweating? Because I think he was sweating.”

She places a hand on my bare arm, her simple touch radiating through my body. “Definitely sweating. Thank you, but I know you don’t want people watching you…talking about you. We don’t have to do all those things together.”

“You challenged me to make an apple pie better than The Clean Plate Club’s, and you know I like an audience. Now I’ll have one. Do we have enough time to plan this thing? I guess I should have asked first.”

She’s still staring at me with those big brown eyes. They look almost liquid now. “You were magnificent.”

Let it never be said that I don’t have an ego, because those words pump blood straight to my cock.

Admittedly, it might be because she said it, but I decide not to entertain that possibility. Still, I’m an idiot, so I say, “Will you admit I was magnificent last night too? Way more than a seven out of ten?”

She gives me a mischievous smile. “Maybe I have a more exacting scale than you’re used to.”

“You’re an exacting woman, so I’d have no trouble believing that if I hadn’t just met your dipshit ex. There’s no way he ranks higher than a seven.”

She holds my gaze, standing up to the challenge, exactly the way I knew she would. “Just because he’s a dipshit doesn’t mean he’s bad in bed.”

I clasp a hand over my chest. “You wound me, Bianca. Especially if you have no intention of actually letting me prove myself to you.”

The air between us thickens, and I curse myself for being too impulsive for anyone’s good. She’s going to tell me to get bent, and I’ll probably deserve it.

“Aren’t you mad at me?” she finally asks.

I shrug. “Yeah, a little.”

She raises her eyebrows. “But you’d still fuck me?”

Leave it to her to put it out there.

My cock has a Pavlovian response to the word fuck, but I take in a long, slow breath. I let it out, reminding myself—and my cock—that nothing is going to happen between Bianca and me right now, and it would be best if nothing happens between us ever.

“I’d consider it if you asked nicely,” I say. “I promise it would be a ten out of ten experience.”

She shakes her head, possibly amused and possibly disgusted. “I genuinely can’t tell whether you’re joking, but I told you, I’m not in any place to date anyone, and my one qualification for a random hookup is that the guy doesn’t sleep in the room next to mine.”

I snap my fingers theatrically. “I wish you’d told me that before I told both of our exes we’re sleeping together.”

“You told your ex, too?”

She sounds interested, which pleases me.