Page 63 of Veiled Amor

No one dragged her by the eyelashes to watch him going a few rounds in the boxing ring with one of the other bikers. It gathered quite the crowd.

For every drop of his sweat, for each time his arm muscles flexed tight and sexy, she lost a little more of her sanity until she was panting like a Great Dane, watching him laughing and moving on the tips of his toes.

However much the crowd bayed, it wasn’t a proper fight, so she wasn’t worried about him getting hurt. She laughed when Vampire nudged her shoulder, so much taller than she was, and smirked. “Your boy isn’t bad.”

“He’s the best.” She answered before she could rein her tongue in.

The other man laughed. “Bet I could take him.”

She scoffed, dragging her gaze away from bulging arm muscles. “No way. You might be good, Vampire, but Capone is better.” Yeesh, listen to her crush in full bloom. Thank god Capone wasn’t close enough to hear. But when he jumped down from the ring minutes later, raking a towel over his face, he eyed them both as he sauntered over.

Vampire had damn loose lips. “Your girl thinks I couldn’t take you.”

Capone’s eyebrow arched at her. Lucia felt her face redden. If she knew Vampire a little better, she would have elbowed him. “I bet your bike on it…” She chewed on her lip, trying not to laugh.

“I hope you’re fine with never sitting down again if you dare bet my Harley.”

The way he growled it with his half-smirk made her eyes open wide.

She’d been joking, but as the swirl of lust tangled up in her stomach, she was tempted to bet his bike for real if it meant he’d spank her.

Grinning up at him, Lucia almost forgot Vampire was there as Capone growled and then threw her a grin. “Brat.”

“Fine, not your precious bike. Guess the fight is off, Vampire.”

Without conscious thought, she moved closer to Capone and put her arm around his waist. As far as anyone in the club needed to know, he’d done his manly claiming of her, which meant she could touch him. He smelled earthy and gorgeous. It was bad enough spending the last two nights smashed up against him in bed, usually waking up on top of him. Now she was torturing herself with his pheromones, inhaling like a crack-whore.

“You get sick of this one, babe, come find me.” Vampire joked, winking at her. He wasn’t even a step away from them when she felt a hand bunch into the back of her blonde hair, tipping her head back, and Capone’s face came into line as he dipped in.

Lucia sucked a breath deep into her lungs. Partly from shock, but all from lust battering her body. His hold wasn’t hurting her. It added to the desire swirling around them. “Are you going to kiss-claim me again?” She whispered.

Hoping. Wishing. Begging.

She was so lousily in love with him. A pigeon begging for scraps of bread. Ugh.

She didn’t care, because Lucia only wanted him.

Maybe she’d have to bring out the feminine wiles to drag Capone into the light, to make him see what she’d always known. They’d be fantastic together.

She squeezed his waist and angled her neck back, gazing at him. He had dark-dark eyes. The color of burnt chocolate, but she still saw his pupils growing until they masked all the color.

“You should.” She stage-whispered, shuffling her body closer, holding in a moan when his fingers started massaging her scalp. “what if they don’t believe I belong to you and one of them hits on me, Gi?” His ragged breath brushed against her face, and she smelled the espresso he drank recently.

“You’re playing with fire,nena.”

“What happened toamor? I like that better.” Breathless, probably looking like a starry-eyed idiot, she grinned and pushed up on her tiptoes, not even close to being near the same height, but she bussed her lips to his rough-stubble chin. “You like me, Giancarlo. You like me being bratty because it means you can put me in my place. And when you put me in my place, you touch me. And you like touching me, kissing me. Don’t you? I found your secret.”

She was teasing him, but there was a hint of the truth too. Hopeful truth.

“I wouldn’t do half the things I do if I didn’t like you, Lucia.” His arm was heavy and heaven when he slung it across her shoulders, walking them off toward their room. For two days, Lucia dined on every slight touch offered by Capone.

At dinner last night, sitting around a raucous table full of bikers and their old ladies at Shark and Spencer’s house, he pulled her down into his lap and let her eat from his plate. He even touched his lips behind her ear soft enough she shuddered.

Then this morning, he’d gone running with her around the compound. Big mistake to have all those muscles glistening so close to her. Lucia almost face-planted the asphalt too many times.

The hand touches, the brush of arms, the lingering looks.

Every touch and kiss had its own story, and each one came naturally to them.

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