Page 64 of Unravel Me

As we walk away, I can feel Veyron’s eyes on me, a flicker of amusement in them. And honestly, I can’t blame him. If our roles were reversed, I’d probably be just as eye-rolling at what I was doing.

But strangely, I don’t care what he thinks. I just let myself swim in this sweet sensation. One of Mauro’s arms stays wrapped firmly around my waist while his other hand holds mine. The feeling is kinda wonderful, to be honest, like someone actually cares about me, like I matter. It hasn’t felt like that in years. Mark treated me like a necessary inconvenience. He wanted the perfect family image, so Tommy and I were simply part of that arrangement, a means to an end.

Mauro’s closeness is nothing like that. It’s embracing, protective, all-encompassing. It’s different from anything I’ve ever felt with another man. My heart races, my breathing quickens, and all I want is to press myself against him, losing myself in that sweet, thrilling closeness.

We reach the second floor, and Mauro leads me to one of the doors. He's just about to touch the handle when something inside me snaps.

With a sudden burst of effort, I grab him, spin him around, and pin him against the wall. Of course, he lets me. Right now I'm far too weak to pull something like that off if he didn't willingly give in to the movement.

Now we're standing face-to-face, my body pressed against his. I look into his eyes, and I can't stop myself from asking.

"Why do I feel you so… much?"

Slowly, I let my fingers travel up his arms, over the hard curve of his biceps until they reach his shoulders, where they brush lightly across his scent glands in a touch reserved for people bound by deep intimacy. It could be considered pretty outrageous, and yet I dare to do it anyway, almost as if I’m challenging him. His eyes are closed, and his breathing deepens. Then my hands climb even higher, my fingers spreading as they thread through his hair, soft black curls kissed with a deep reddish sheen.

Beneath my fingertips, his hair feels like precious silk, cool and impossibly smooth as it slips between my fingers while I gently massage his scalp. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. All I know is that I need to melt into him, to chase that shiver, that aching hunger that grows more intense with every moment he remains in my arms.

Mauro keeps his eyes closed, surrendering completely to my touch.

My thumbs slide slowly along the sides of his face, tracing the line of his cheekbones before settling against his jaw, while his hands wander across my back in unhurried strokes. His fingers skitter down my spine, his thumbs skim over my ribs before resting on my hips, as I shiver beneath his hands. Then I realize he’s trembling too, the two of us caught in this strange trance of shared caresses, silently exploring one another, losing ourselves in the stolen pleasures, drowning in closeness.

At last, he opens his eyes, and our gazes meet again.

My attention switches to his mouth, just as it did before in the dining room, when we came so close to kissing. No… this time I'm not going to let anybody steal the moment from me. I can't look anywhere else, my eyes firmly fixed on those tempting lips, and a heartbeat later my hands slide behind his neck, gently drawing him closer.

I don't have to forcefully pull him down. His head lowers toward mine as naturally as if he'd been waiting for it all along, and then our mouths finally meet.

Dear Fate, why do I feel like I know this kiss, this taste? Fresh peppermint flavor fills my mouth as my tongue finds his, my body melting, transforming into a trembling pink jelly-like pudding.

"Are you him?" slips from me between kisses, the words dissolving into his mouth as I breathe into him, catching his lower lip and sucking on it, before our tongues meet again.

"You shouldn't be doing this right now."

The voice behind us cuts straight through the haze.

I pull away from Mauro so abruptly my breath catches, and my eyes land on… Gianni.

The inconspicuous, silent omega Renato introduced at the breakfast, is standing in the doorway with a blanket draped over one shoulder, his expression carrying a hint of disapproval that makes heat rush into my face.

"An omega in heat recovery shouldn't be disturbed. Your hormones need time to stabilize, and your body needs rest. Sex during recovery can cause hormonal problems, making your next heat unusually weak or short, and sometimes even affecting fertility."

I freeze, staring at him.

"Sorry. I worked as a nurse for years," he says with a weak, strained smile, glancing at us through his thick glasses. "Occupational habit. I had to warn you."

There's something painful in his expression. I catch a shadow of jealousy there and, underneath it, sadness. Then I remember what Davos told me. Gianni's own life hadn't turned out well. His husband had been an abusive drunk.

Standing there with my lips still wet from Mauro's kisses, my cheeks must be so red it's a miracle they aren't bleeding. I take a step away from him and turn the door handle.

I've been in this house for less than an hour, and I'm already making out with one of its residents. There's no way Gianni sees that as anything good.

Slut.

Gianni walks into the room right behind me like a living barrier, with Mauro following close behind. Then he stops, apparently unwilling to let the matter go. He turns toward Mauro, then looks at me.

"There'll be time for everything," he says rather sourly. "But give yourself these few days to rest first, Jared."

Hmm, why does he also act as if he knows me, as though we already have some kind of relationship that would make comments like that appropriate?