Page 37

I dive onto my stomach, clutching the cookies like I’m protecting the winning touchdown. Behind me and mounted on my thighs, Gio reaches around my sides, but he can’t get a grip with my arms blocking him.

I laugh. I can’t help it.

“Sparkles, give up the goods or things will get worse.”

“I’m so scared.” I crow with glee as we struggle for control.

We are in full-out wrestling mode until he pulls a fast one, corralling us into a new position. Now the length of Gio’s body covers the length of mine as he pins me to the floor.

His chest presses against my back, and with the weight of him, I can no longer squirm. I can only breathe heavily while being acutely aware of an enticing shift. All of me is hyperaware of all of him—every hard muscle, every brush of hair, every pass of his skin over mine . . . everything.

His chin hooks over my shoulder and his rough scrub swipes my cheek, leaving another burn. His warm breath rustles my hair, tickling my skin. All the contact makes me tingle in places I haven’t before. It’s startling, and I think . . . I think I’m turned on by my archnemesis.

Oh no.

“Now, be a good girl and give me what I want,” he whispers.

Thank God he can’t see. Thank God he can’t witness the sheer pleasure that crosses my face at those words.

Be a good girl. BE A GOOD GIRL and give me what I want.

The skull emoji flashes in my mind for a new reason. This isn’t Gio’s death. It’s mine.

My eyes roll back into my head. My mouth parts on a silent whimper. My boobs turn on like headlights, and the desert between my legs is suddenly an oasis of beachfront property. In my filthy, sex-starved mind, Gio sets up a beach chair there. He’s waiting and ready to dive into my reservoir on command.

“What’ll you give me?” I ask him, my voice so breathy, so needy, there’s zero chance he doesn’t understand my meaning.

Gio’s very large something hardens near my backside, quickly becoming less of a something and more of a something-something. His knee nudges between my thighs, spreading my legs, and slides dangerously close to my beachfront property. His rigid arms soften and curl possessively around my shoulders. He buries his nose into my hair and nuzzles my neck.

Oh. My. God. I’m breathless for a new reason.

“Don’t act like you could handle playing rough with me, kitten.”

“Try me.”

In a stealthy move that could only be made by a man with ten times my strength, he lifts up and grips my hips, then flips me over.

Now on my back, I find the cookie container isn’t the only thing that’s exposed. My want for him is written all over my face.

My body is pulsing. Or is that my pussy? It suddenly has a heartbeat and is pounding so hard, the beats vibrate throughout my body. I moan from an animalistic place that begs to be manhandled.

He lowers his body, aligning all his man parts with all my lady parts. His full lips dip dangerously close to mine. I suck in a slow, shaky breath, preparing to drown in the view of him.

My beautiful enemy.

The world stops spinning when his hot breath brushes over my drying lips. I lick them like a woman starved. And I am. I’m starved for seduction, for lust, for love, for a man’s cock to be buried so deep inside my tunnel of love that he splashes out the other side.

As if he heard my thoughts, Gio drops his gaze. He watches the pulse beat in the column of my neck like he’s making a decision. In this precarious position, we’re balanced on a knife’s edge. The tension could slice us in half.

“Is this what you want?” His lips feather mine.

I melt with a gasp of pleasure. My eyelashes flutter. My breathing intensifies. My pussy’s heartbeat thumps in my ears.

“I wouldn’t kiss you if you were the last person on earth,” I say, even as I toss the cookies aside so he can press his chest to mine.

“Kissing you would be a fucking nightmare,” Gio murmurs.

I swing a leg around his back and dig a heel into his buttocks.