Page 70 of Offside Angle

The hesitation starts disappearing piece by piece as his grip tightens and he kisses me harder, taking more, pushing forward with the sudden certainty of someone finally done being afraid of wanting this.

It’s adorable.

It also lasts about five seconds.

I turn us before he realizes what I’m doing and press him back against the door. His shoulders hit the wood with a dull thump, surprise breaking the kiss as I brace one hand beside his head and keep the other tangled in his hair.

Matteo stares at me.

There it is. That look. Half offended. Half turned on. Completely unprepared.

I have to laugh. “Don’t make assumptions because of the eyeliner, guapo.”

His eyebrows shoot up.

I lean closer until our mouths almost touch again. “I’m not one of your girls.”

His throat moves as he swallows.

No argument.

Interesting.

Matteo Rivera—the man who showed up at my door ten minutes ago apparently unsure how human courtship works—is now gripping my waist like he can’t decide whether he wants to shove me away from the door or drag me even closer.

I brush my mouth against his once, barely enough to count. “Your move, cariño.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters.

I laugh against his jaw and let my mouth travel lower, kissing beneath his ear before following the line of his neck. His breathing catches, and the hands at my waist tighten immediately.

Oh, I like that.

“Is this what you thought was going to happen?” I murmur against his skin. “You’d show up with flowers, kiss me, and I’d just let you take over?”

I lift my head.

Matteo looks thoroughly betrayed by this turn of events.

It might be my favorite expression on him yet.

“I didn’t exactly have a plan.”

“I noticed.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe eventually.”

His eyes widen.

I grin and run my thumb along his jaw. “But first, cariño…” I lean in again, close enough to make him wait for the kiss. “You’re going to have to try harder than flowers.”

Matteo finally snaps.

He kisses me hard and walks me backward without breaking away, his hands moving from my waist to my back with enough force to make me smile against his mouth. I let him steer, enjoying the sudden confidence, until the backs of my legs hit the couch and we go down together in a mess of limbs, crushing the flowers somewhere beneath us.

I let him have control.