“Why did you do that?”
“Why did you let me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
They could both play the questions for an answer game.
Something unexplainable was happening between them, besides the obvious. Only, Lucia was too in her feelings to figure it out.
It had been a promise to herself to face things head-on if she ever got out of her father’s ruling. So here she was, facing things. Rolling up onto an elbow, she searched his face through the darkness.
It didn’t come as a surprise when he didn’t answer. Capone was the most secretive man she’d ever known. He kept his feelings behind a wall only he accessed. What he did was lean in, and their lips brushed. Lucia sucked in a gasp before his tongue slipped inside. Chills raced up her arms, across her neck.
Their back and forth was a game of seduction, as if they’d kissed a million times before.
There was nothing to hold back when Lucia wrapped her arms around Capone’s neck, urging him deeper. Not a second later, they groaned together. The noise was vibrating through her. God, she wanted so much from him. Was she a fool to even hope he might want the same?
“Because I needed to,” he groaned into her mouth.
“What?”
“Why I touched you. Made you come.”
Little pecks dropped on her lips. They were sweet, adoring kisses. Kisses came to a slow stop when Capone once more rolled to his back and put an arm across his eyes. “But I shouldn’t, Lucia.”
Damn, it hurt.
But she’d always figured the reason.
“Because of Santiago?”
Saying his brother’s name caused a reaction in Capone she felt in her bones.
“I think you’re delicious, Lucia. You make my fucking mouth flood.”
The words shot through her as if she’d been harpooned with one of those big spear things.
It sounded so casually sexual. The tendons clenched in her neck at the same time her fingers flexed, ready to reach out to him.
And then he burst her euphoric bubble.
“But I can’t taste how delicious. Can’t have delicious,sí? You understand?”
A pain as sharp as any knife lanced her. She foraged for words. “But you have tasted…”
“I shouldn’t. I’m fucking weak where you’re concerned.”
It was both a compliment and an insult.
“I did something no man should do to his brother. I took something that wasn’t mine to take, and on the day we buried him. I look at you, Lucia, and I ache for more. But then I picture Santiago and know how he’d feel about what I did. What I still want to do.”
She’d always known the distance between them was because of Santiago. They both avoided his name like the plague. He’d forever been the ghost in the middle.
“Your damn morals,” she murmured, almost to herself. And then louder. “There are things you don’t know, Giancarlo.”
The arm came away from his eyes, and he cut his gaze across to her. They were so close, their noses almost brushed. “What don’t I know?”
Sighing, needing space to breathe. Lucia slid down to the end of the bed, climbing off, she flipped on a light.