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“I think that’s a bench.” She smiled, a real one this time, because it reached her eyes. “You’re too tall. And it’s too narrow. You’d be better off on the floor.” Her hand went in the air as if to protest her own words. “And I’m not letting you do either. We’ll make the bed work.”
No, no we would not make the bed work. But I’d deal with that fight later. First, I needed to survive little-miss-drive-me-crazy taking a shower so close to me.
“You know, I’ve been wondering . . .” Her lip went between her teeth for a hot second. “Did you get off that day when we were, um, texting? Or are you still a shade of blue? Not Rabbit Beach blue but—”
“I hate you,” I teased, then snatched her wrist and pulled her toward me in one fast movement.
The earrings fell to the hardwoods in the process, and I held her chin, guiding her eyes to meet mine.
“I did get off, but I am most definitely still in blue-balls-hell,” I gruffly shared, my cock uncomfortably hard and angry again. All thoughts of my brother’s situation were gloriously free from my head. “So, I’ll be jerking off in the shower.”
I let go of her chin and dragged my thumb along the seam of her mouth. The memory of going down on her was still fresh in my mind, and I’d be reliving that hot hotel moment while I stroked my cock.
“You sure you want to wait?” she murmured, closing her eyes.
My breathing picked up as my gaze went from her long, dark lashes to her luscious lips. “No, I don’t want to wait. But I owe it to you to do exactly that.”
Her eyelids fluttered open, and when she kissed my thumb, my balls tightened. “Then I guess I’ll be a bad girl and touch myself while in that shower, too.” She paused, her gaze tight on my face. “The only question now—who gets to go first?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
NATALIA
This is actually nice. Considering the fact Maurizio had sent two guys to spy on Ryan, I was shocked I was enjoying myself so much tonight at dinner.
Maurizio was at the head of the eight-person table in the courtyard talking about the family business, and Ryan kept politely nodding as if he cared. Maybe he was starting to? I wasn’t quite sure.
His uncle had the same rich, dark hair as Ryan but with silver at the temples. His eyes were a similar brown to his as well. He was only in his late fifties and had yet to marry. From what he’d said over dinner, he was too wrapped up in running the business to fall in love.
I guess I’d been expecting some suave asshole, or a cliche´ movie villain, but Maurizio was far from The Godfather or a comic book character I’d painted in my head.
After devouring several courses of food, I was somehow still energized and hanging in there even with the time change. Maybe it was the cozy setting?
The courtyard was comfortable thanks to the standing heaters to keep us warm. Throw in the soft music flowing from the speakers, the gorgeous colorful flowers, Italian lanterns with lit candles, strings of lights overhead, and the burbling fountain . . . and well, it made for the perfect backdrop for a fake proposal.
In truth, I was mainly enjoying myself because of the sinfully handsome man across from me. The khaki linen pants and stunning turquoise-green linen button-down I pretty much forced him to buy earlier fit him perfectly, accentuating some of his best features. The top few buttons were undone just the way I liked, showing enough to hint at the strength and power in his chest, but not enough to seem too relaxed and casual in the current setting. And I wanted to dive my hands into his sexy-messy hair while he kissed me stupid.
I couldn’t help but tune out his uncle going on about the family business whenever my gaze fixed on Ryan, especially his strong, corded forearms, on display below the sleeves he’d cuffed to his elbows. Mmm. That. Right there. That’s my thing all right. Arm porn.
He’d opted for his fancier watch instead of the typical black band Apple watch he wore, and he kept checking the time every few minutes as if he had somewhere else to go. Or maybe he was nervous for when the time would come to drop to one knee?
I took a quick sip of wine, my throat going dry at the idea of Ryan proposing and it’d be fake. I’d have to try and survive that somehow. I’d probably also need a second shower later. The uncomfortable tension between my legs had yet to be dulled, even after pleasuring myself in the shower before dinner.
As if Ryan had read my dirty thoughts, his knowing brown eyes cut my way, staring right through me. Yup, your eyes. Also my thing. That broody look and devilish smile. Heaven help me.
Ryan swirled his wine while holding my gaze, slowly raising the glass to his mouth, his tongue peeking between his lips as he took a sip. He knew what he was doing. And I didn’t miss the reminder of when he’d gone down on me last night.
I shifted uncomfortably on the cushioned chair and searched for some type of willpower so I didn’t self-combust in front of his uncle, sitting only two empty chairs away.
Of course, we’d been doing this little flirtation song and dance for the last two hours. Tempting each other. Teasing. Somehow, without our control snapping. Yet.
It was foreplay without touching, and it was making me crazy.
When he’d left the bathroom before dinner, only a towel hugging his hips just above that sexy V line, his hair messy and wet, I’d decided on some payback.
I’d asked him to zip up my dress, knowing full well the zipper started at the hem of my panty line. As he’d slowly slid the zipper up, I’d peeked back at him over my shoulder, and he’d leaned in, nearly kissing me.
Chills coasted along my spine at the memories from the room. Considering he was still devoted to looking at me as though he were mentally undressing me, I knew one of us would have to sleep on the floor if we were truly to share a room and restrain ourselves tonight.
