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Her stomach swooshed. “About what?” She asked unevenly, with saccharine sweetness.
But it was the wrong thing to say. A moment later, Alessio was right there, beside her, behind the cooktop, eyes holding hers, challenging her, as his body moved closer still and the air in the kitchen evaporated. She held her breath, staring up at him, bewildered and lost, until he dropped his head and this time, when he kissed her, it was not a tentative, gentle promise, but something far more urgent, something that reached right inside her and rearranged the pieces of who Charlotte was.
Having not made out with a guy in a long time surely explained why the kiss shook Charlotte as though a bomb had just detonated. But maybe it was also a little do with his skilled, masterful possession, of the way his lips parted hers and his tongue slid into her mouth, duelling with her tongue, just a little, then retreating, one hand placed possessively on her hip, holding her still and steady when she was beginning to tremble all over.
“Did you think about this?” He asked gruffly, the words pressed into her mouth before he lifted his head and looked down at her, something intense in the depths of his eyes that made her chest hurt.
“No,” she lied, because she’d thought and dreamed of little else. “And that’s—it can’t—I can’t let that happen.”
“Can’t you?” His eyes dropped pointedly to the space between them, and Charlotte realised she was gripping onto his shirt for dear life. And what a shirt! Expensive, starched cotton, buttoned up, he looked perfect and so sexy, and now she’d rumpled him. But somehow, that was even better.
Always supermodels.
Caleb’s words spun through her mind, reminding her of the revelations she’d learned yesterday, of her place here in this pub, of Alessio’s tangled relationship with his family—her friends. She swallowed, and forced herself to look away, but her hands wouldn’t move. His chest was so warm beneath her touch, and he smelled so good.
“I didn’t know who you were yesterday,” she said softly.
“I’m a guest in your hotel.”
“No, you’re a guest in your family’s hotel, and obviously there’s a lot of water under the bridge there.” She bit down on her lip. “Caleb and Winnie are friends of mine. Good friends. They’ve been so supportive of Dash and me since we moved here—,”
“While simultaneously extracting more than a pound of flesh, by the looks of it,” he cut in with a voice that was dark and resonant.
“I work long hours, so I have the freedom to be with Dash,” she said. “And that’s none of your business. You said your relationship with your family is something you don’t like to discuss, and I respect that, but if anything were to happen between us, anythingmore,” she added pointedly, “It would be a betrayal of them, and I can’t do it.”
“Are you involved with him?”
“Caleb?” She blinked up at Alessio again and her heart dropped to her toes because she ached to feel his lips on hers. She wanted him so badly it hurt. Having not been intimate with a man in forever, she yearned for that closeness now. It had nothing to do with Alessio and just the feelings he’d reminded her she possessed.
“Yes, Caleb.” He spat his half-brother’s name with derision.
“It’s none of your business.”
Again, he looked down at his shirt front and this time, she did move her hand, dropping it like she’d just been splashed with boiling water, but Alessio’s reactions were just as swift. He caught her hand at their sides and lifted it back between them, to his lips this time, pressing a kiss to her palm while his eyes held hers. She shivered, the pleasure and intimacy sending little trembles through her veins.
“It’s a simple question.”
“Nothing about this is simple.”
“If you are not sleeping with him, then of course it is.”
“He’s my friend.”
“And I’m the big, bad wolf,” Alessio surmised. “Come to blow your house down.” He drew her thumb into his mouth, nipping at the pad of flesh with his teeth so she moaned, swaying forward without realising it.
“Something like that,” she gasped, as he brought his other hand to her back and pulled her against his body, so she felt every inch of him, the hint of his hardness against her belly making her heart run so fast she thought it might crack a rib.
“I told you, I do not like to discuss my family.” He moved her hand, holding it in his, against his chest, as his head moved closer to hers. “But I will tell you this—what I want from you has nothing to do with them.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Why?” She whispered, as he kissed the flesh at the base of her ear, flicking her there with his tongue until she was a puddle of nerves. “Why do you want me?”
“I don’t think I should justify that with an answer.”
She could barely think straight. “I’m serious,” she tilted her head back to give him better access and now his whole body seemed to wrap around hers, one arm behind her back holding her clamped to him, his size so much greater than hers, his ability to kiss her senseless on full display as his lips made their way from Charlotte’s earlobe to her jaw and then to her mouth, his stubble in contrast to the softness of his lips.
