AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And then I go still.
I’m not wearing jeans, my feet are bare, and the top I was wearing is gone, instead I’m covered in soft, worn cotton that smells like Nicolo. That clean scent edged with dark.
“We didn’t have sex,” he says, fingers brushing soft on my cheek, “and you weren’t drunk. Those assholes who gave you that fucking shot drugged you.”
“I kissed you.”
“Oh, fuck yeah, you did, Avah, and it was a hell of a kiss. And then . . . then you could barely walk so I took you here.”
“I didn’t think we had sex,” I whisper, sliding a finger down over his hot flesh, along the curve of the wing of one of the ravens tattooed there. “I’m still wearing my underwear.”
He captures my hand and presses it flat against him. The heat and the beat of his heart is a song that slides into me from my palm. “You need to stop, pretty thing, otherwise you won’t be keeping hold of that underwear, or your virtue.”
“Maybe,” I say, trying to curl my hands against him, “I don’t want to.”
“And maybe you should get that fine ass of yours up and in the shower before you don’t have a choice.”
On the nightstand, his phone starts to vibrate, and he sighs and lets go of my hand before hauling me against him to feather a kiss on my lips.
My head is spinning, and I’m wet and aching. Down there, between my thighs, I’m aching with the kind of throb and need only he can fix. But he’s already gone, up and out of bed, and that fine form of his, the lines of his shoulders, the wideness of his back, the muscles that have tattoos of birds and spires and twisted thorns on there transfix.
That and the way his torso vees down to narrow hips and a toned ass in the black, fitted underwear.
Those long legs of his are densely muscled, and I didn’t miss the shape and size of him, his cock cupped in the front by the black material.
Honestly, is it even fair a man like him exists?
“Diego, what’s up?”
He doesn’t look at me as he leaves the room. I finally sit up, looking about the simple room with the dark oak and clean lines. The bedding is cream-colored and simple without adornment.
I’d have thought blacks or blues or grays, but it suits the room. There’s an elegance to the simplicity, to the functionality, because I don’t think he really cares about being Mr. Homemaker of the Year.
The throb starts in my head again, and I groan. I spy a glass of water by the bed on the side table. There’s a book there too. Thick, a scrap of paper poking out about two-thirds of the way through like he ripped it from something because he needed a bookmark.
It makes me want to smile. But smiling might hurt.
I down the water in gulps and set the glass down before carefully setting my head back on the pillow.
I should get up, I know that. He told me to shower, so maybe that means he wants me to go?
He comes back in, phone in hand. “Damn, that shit really knocked you about.” Nicolo opens his closet and pulls out his clothes. “I’ll be back.”
There’s an ensuite in the room, and he heads to it, then stops at the door. “There’s another bathroom down the hall if you need it.
Then he disappears into it. The hiss of water fills the room, and I think I drift off because when I open my eyes next, he’s crouched next to me, smelling clean and like a man, and everything good. Those green and gold eyes have a hint of dark brown to them as he looks at me.
My heart squeezes tight in my chest.
“Avah, I have to go do something, I’m gonna set the alarm, and I want you to stay, okay? There’s food in the kitchen, soda in the fridge, along with juice and water. I’m fucking civilized, so I even have a big-screen TV. I left some shorts and another shirt for you.”
“But I can’t.”
His eyes harden. “Oh yeah, you fucking can,Tesoro. I don’t want you out there with someone sending you trashy sex lingerie that, okay, would be phenomenal on you, but really? No. People are dangerous, Avah, so wait for me.”
“Okay.” I’m not used to being bossed around when it’s wrapped up like this.
He’s not pretending to be anything that he’s not, but there are promises wrapped around his words.
