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“If you keep making those sounds, I’m going to have to send our waiter away for a few hours.” Rome’s warning is filled with intent. My thighs squeeze together at the memory of how he makes me feel, how he brings me to orgasm, and how much I’ve missed it.
“Remember,” I say, pointing at him. “I only kiss on the first date.”
He tips his head to the side. “So, we’re really starting all the way back at the beginning?” he questions, arching a dark brow at me. “Because if I recall that night we went for dinner, I had you moaning my name for dessert.”
He’s too right about that. The images that play in my mind don’t help ease the ache that’s twisting low in my belly. I want him, right here and now, but I shake my head and look at my plate, focusing on the bread instead of the hungry gaze burning me alive.
“This is you making up for being an asshole,” I tell him as I pop an olive into my mouth. The flavors burst on my tongue. Rome shakes his head, then tips it to the side to look at me again. He’s smiling, watching me, but he doesn’t say anything, and I wonder what’s going through his mind.
“I get that,” he finally says as we finish our starter, and seconds later, the waiter is back with the main course of spaghetti marinara with meatballs. Everything from home is right in front of me, and I look up with tears in my eyes to find Rome staring at me.
“This is too much,” I tell him, blinking back the salty emotion that threatens to trickle down my cheeks. “How did you know my mother’s favorite meal?”
“I had a visitor,” he tells me. “I should’ve told you the moment he walked out of my office, but I wanted to surprise you first. Actually, I wanted to impress you, so you’d forgive me.”
“What visitor?” Even as I ask it, I know who he’s talking about. Marco didn’t tell me he was going to see Rome. But then again, Marco isn’t someone who likes to tell anyone anything.
“Marco Gianetti,” Rome says. “He told me if I ever hurt you, he’ll find me.”
This makes me laugh because he told me the exact same thing. “And what did you say?”
“I told him I’d give him the gun to shoot me with.” Rome shrugs, taking a mouthful of pasta. The red sauce splatters on his mouth, which makes me giggle.
“Don’t ever say that again,” I tell him while taking the napkin from his hand and wiping his mouth. Our gazes lock, and for a moment, I feel like I’m stuck on a movie set with the man I love.
It reminds me of those moments in cinema when the hero and heroine finally get together. When they finally admit their feelings and realize that they can’t change course. They’re headed straight for the same goal.
Rome grabs my hand, holding it against his cheek. “You’re mine, Elisabet,” he says. “And there is certainly no way I’m going to let you get away. But if I ever do something to hurt you, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Are you saying you’re planning on hurting me?” I challenge, but he chuckles in response, shaking his head as he presses his lips to my palm.
“Never.”
Chapter 30
Rome
The scent of coffee wakes me up. When I open my eyes, I find myself alone in bed, but I can hear Elisabet in the kitchen. Glancing down, I notice I’m still wearing my boxers, then I recall last night. We had an intimate dinner, came back to her place, and we fell asleep holding each other.
Or rather, she fell asleep while I held her, trying to keep my mind off her ass pressed against my groin. I wanted to tease her as much as she taunted me, but I didn’t. Instead, I enjoyed being close to her. I haven’t really taken into account how much the intimacy of a relationship has changed me.
Elisabet is mine, and I’m not letting her get away. A thought comes to me as I roll over and grab my cell phone from the nightstand. Opening the browser, I find what I’m looking for. It doesn’t take long for me to make the purchase.
Just as I’m setting down my phone, she enters the bedroom wearing my shirt and nothing else. Her long, tanned legs have my cock jolting awake at the sight of her, and I can’t stop the groan that rumbles in my chest.
“I thought you were still asleep,” she says as she sashays over to me to set the mug of coffee on the nightstand.
“The coffee woke me.” I reach for her. Pulling her onto the bed, I grip her hips so she’s straddling me. The heat of her against my cock doesn’t ease my hardening erection.
