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"Enough," I say frigidly, ignoring the heat in my stomach and chest at his words. If he's trying to mess with a Russo for fun, it's working, and that pisses me off. "It's time for us to get the talk out of the way."
"I already know where babies come from, cutie—"
"Call me thatone moretime," I cut him off. "And I'll show you how experienced I am using pliers. No more of your flirtatious bullshit, Giovanni. This truce can't afford it."
Roberto's brows bounce up, and his aggravatinglybarelycrooked smirk reappears. "The truce can't, or you can't?"
I ignore that, stepping back so that we're no longer near each other's warmth—because he is proving dangerous to my train of thought. I take a deep breath, clasping my hands behind my back and showing my most professional smile.
"Look. I want to weather this truce without giving our families more battle scars. I want to get everything right for the Five Families' new chance. A lot is hinging on us not ripping each other's heads off."
"Good news: it's not your head that I want to rip off," he winks, looking over my clothes meaningfully. "We can weather the truce and have fun simultaneously, you know. Not that I mind a good scar—I have a few of my own if you want to take a peek and kiss them all better."
He's trying to get another rise out of me. It's annoyingly close to working, but I try again, glaring this time.
"Don’t you wantVitalento succeed?"
He shrugs and takes a step forward. To my chagrin, I automatically move half a step back, so now it looks like he's the one cornering me and not the other way around.
"Sure, but that doesn't mean it's the only thing on my mind. Definitely not right here, right now, when you and I both know how good it'll feel to get close and personal with each other."
Roberto's next grin is nothing short of pure sin as he places his hands on either side of my head, a mirror of where we were days ago—but I hardly want to knee him this time. Instead, I want to…
No. Deep breath in, deep breath out.
"We don’t need to be closeorpersonal. Nothing is going to happen between us. As a matter of fact, however long I'm forced to work with you, I will be perfectly professional," I tell him. "No matter what."
He chuckles, leaning down so his lips graze my ear, and his cool breath caresses the overheated skin on my neck and clavicle. "You know…I think I'll take that as a personal challenge, cutie."
I'm officially pissed at him now, but I can't seem to exhale as one of his fingers brushes a curl of my hair away from my eyes. It skates across my cheekbone, and then his voice drops even quieter.
"No matter what, huh? Prove it," he dares. And then he blows softly into my ear.
Goosebumps break over my arms and back as unexpected need jolts through me. My body's reaction to just that tiny stimulation from him is illogical and completely delicious. Internally, I scramble for any way of navigating this situation that doesn't end in me ruining this fragile ceasefire between our families or…
Or I could just use another tactic.
Tease them with what they want.
He wants to play with me—he's been throwing me off this entire time, but two can play his game. I'll show that I have perfect control of myself and this situation by indulging him and taking it away again.
Game on, Giovanni.
Roberto's eyes widen when I grip his collar and roughly pull him down, and then our mouths collide, and we both groan. His warm lips quickly take up the dance with mine, and sparks buzz under my skin when his rough hands boldly slip up the back of my shirt, tantalizing against my spine.
My hands find his soft hair, and I twist my fingers into those waves, vying for control of the kiss. He groans against my lips, and then I'm shoved back against a hallway wall, the cold of it sharply contrasting with the heat building between us. With the way he's trying to consume me, Roberto could kiss every single thought in my head away and leave me nothing but a quivering, blushing mess.
Both of us break away, but while I'm still trying to get oxygen back to my head, his lips continue to press down my jaw and neck, and I shiver when his tongue sweeps across my flesh. His fingers are almost bruising where they've settled on my hips—and on instinct, I grind against his hardness, earning the most satisfying hoarse gasp from him.
"Cazzo ti voglio,"he breathes raggedly against my throat, pressing me harder against the wall.
Fuck, I want you.His Italian has a different accent from mine, but it still spikes desire through me to hear him speak the tongue of our families.
I've never felt like this. Like I'd rather just let go of the careful control that I was always taught to keep—like maybe no consequences of being reckless would overshadow the thrill of this moment. Every touch between us is dangerous and delicious. When Roberto's mouth finds mine again, and he nips my lower lip before his tongue teases mine, I'm beyond tempted to give in to this. Tohim.
My hands have a mind of their own because one slips between us to feel the hard length he's pressed against me. I can't help squeezing it, and he swears and pushes me against the wall harder, growling as he rolls his hips.
"Fuck, Giulia, let's get out of here. I want to taste you."
