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Is that going to stop me?
Not even a little.
Her surprised squeak fills my senses as my mouth comes down to claim hers.
“What the fuck, Bruno?” my brother calls out.
But I don’t care. The second her mouth moves willingly against mine, my tongue slips between her lips.
Candy. I knew it. She’s not wearing proper lipstick, but that slick stuff that tastes like a lollipop. I suck on that lower lip until her spine melts for me. If I’ve snapped and finally gone insane, then this is the place I hope I land forever. Elation floods me, along with a high that feels as natural as it is foreign.
I wave off the guys, motioning for them to load up the car without me. My dick screams to make an appearance, and I don’t want my kid brother here for the show.
The second the elevator door shuts and takes them away, the monster inside of me unleashes. The kiss picks up its pace as I tear that ridiculous cat hoodie off her head, revealing perfect chocolate-colored curls that look sent from Hell itself to bait me into the best kind of trap.
“What are we doing?” Jessica bleats, but she doesn’t push me away. She doesn’t grab me in the way I wish she would, but I can tell that’s because this is just as overwhelming to me as it is to her. She’s nervous, tentative with her movements, letting me take the lead while my kiss trails over her jaw and down the side of her neck.
“What’s your name? Bruno?” she worries, and I can tell her brain is kicking in, telling her that this is moving faster than should be possible.
I don’t fucking care. As fast as I can, I want my stamp on her ass. My handprint. My teeth.
I’ve never been so taken, and never this quickly have I teased a woman’s tongue with mine. It’s not a plunder but a conversation. A dance that holds me captive even though the Torros could be coming this way to check on their stolen money at this very moment.
“What’s your name? Bruno?” she repeats, snapping me out of my haze as she jerks her head back, her eyes lidded. “I don’t kiss strangers.”
“I barely know my name right now,” I admit to her. “Pick your favorite storybook hero, and I’ll be him. This isn’t… I’m not…”
She narrows her eyes up at me, as if she intends to catch me in a lie, saying that I don’t kiss women I don’t know.
Well, that’s not a lie I’m willing to die on.
Our chests leap in unison, revealing our stuttering pulses that seem to have found each other amid the chaos.
I kiss her twice more before gathering my thoughts enough for semi-sentient speech. “Bruno. Brunello.” I roll my “r” because my tongue has a mind of its own tonight.
“Bruno what?” she asks.
I chuckle, breaking off the next kiss. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s just that I’ve never had to answer that. You really are new in town.” I kiss her lips again, unable to stop myself. “Brunello Moretti. My family runs the north side of the city, which is where I’m taking you tonight.”
Her eyes widen, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing. She backs up into a long table laden with books, stepping out of my arms as if she’s only just now realized what it is we’ve been doing down here. “We can’t… I shouldn’t have…” She touches her swollen lips. “This didn’t happen.” She motions around with fear lacing her beautiful features. “I certainly didn’t kiss a random guy at my place of work,” her voice lowers to a panicked whisper, “with a bunch of teenagers upstairs!”
I smirk at her worry. “Kissing at work? The scandal. Five more minutes, and I was about to do far more than that right on this table.” I slam my hand atop the table to my right, making her jump with a small squeak.
She didn’t like that. Jessica studies me warily, and my stomach hollows as I put the pieces together. She flinched when I touched her face, and the slap of my hand on the table scared her, too.
“Give me the name of the man who made you so jumpy.”
It’s not romantic; it’s an order, and one I expect her to obey.
She pales, that pretty blush draining away. “My background has nothing to do with any of this.” She motions between the two of us. “This isn’t me. This is insanity.”
I lean my backside against the edge of the table, crossing my arms over my chest. “I can find out what’s haunting you easily enough, but I’d rather not go digging into your past and accidentally murder the wrong ex-boyfriend.”
She presses the back of her hand to her cheek. I can see she’s trying to calm herself while attempting to appear in control of her faculties at the same time. “It’s my husband, okay? And you don’t need to go murdering anyone on my account.” When I don’t react, she throws her hands up, exasperated—with me or with herself, I cannot decide. “Aren’t you upset? You just kissed a married woman!”
Wouldn’t be my first time, but accidents happen when rings slide off without me knowing. “If you were married, you’d be wearing a ring,” I point out, motioning to her bare finger. “And you’d look guilty instead of looking like you’d enjoy undressing me with your teeth.”
Even her sharp inhale turns me on. “I am not!” Jessica pinches the bridge of her nose. “I left him, but I’m still legally married.”
