Page 246 of Mine Again
That closeness, that raw claiming, I needed it to put my world right again.
How many of the men darting around heard us? We weren’t exactly quiet.
Maybe Hale had each room soundproofed, but judging by the smirks tossed our way, that’s wishful thinking.
Fabulous. We’re the post-battle entertainment.
“Where did all these men come from?” I ask as Luca pulls me through the wreckage like the chaos around us doesn’t exist.
His hand is tight around mine, his thumb sweeping over the knuckles of my uninjured hand in steady, grounding strokes.
“They’re Maximo Marcos’s men,” he replies.
I try to focus on him because the rest of the house makes my stomach turn. Chairs are tipped over, tables splintered against walls. Blood stains the marble. A chandelier lies shattered at the foot of the staircase. And bodies. I glimpse two slumped against the far wall before I wrench my gaze back to Luca.
“The one Mamma’s suitor Aldo is consigliere for? The one who’s keen on Mia?”
I vaguely remember Luca telling his men to let Maximo know that they had me and Hale. I met him once in Sicily but didn’t talk much with him… unlike my sister.
Luca halts and turns to me, his face settling into something guarded. “About that. Mia and Maximo…”
I’m not listening, because only now do I notice the black tactical gear he’s wearing. Straps, weapons, gloves, everything to make him appear lethal, like a man born to lead commando ops.
But of course my brain doesn’t linger on the danger. No, it lands on the fact that tactical gear is basically a uniform.
And uniforms on men?
Irresistible.
Add Luca’s face, his body, his scent, and it’s enough to make me weak all over again.
The orgasms clearly unwound him, too. His features are softer, less stormy, though his sense of situational awareness lingers.
He’s relaxed but focused. Balanced. Which only makes me want to drag him back into another room and ruin that balance all over again.
He lifts my chin, eyes narrowing. “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you?”
“What?”
He rolls his eyes. I shrug. “You’re really hot in this outfit. It short-circuited my brain for a second.”
“Maybe I should take advantage of that and push you into another room.”
“Tempting, but no. I want to get out of this house. I’ve spent too much time here already. Besides, your cum is about to leak down mythighs any second.” My cheeks flame as his smile widens. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Damn straight I would. Show me a man who doesn’t like seeing his woman marked with his cum.” His smirk curves in that wicked way I love, his eyes glittering, softer now yet no less intense.
“Cavemen, the lot of you,” I mutter.
Craning my neck, I search past him and spot a bathroom door.
“I need to clean up.” Letting go of his hand, I march toward it.
He shifts to follow, but I press my palm to his chest, stopping him.
“Wait here,” I tell him, his heartbeat steady under my touch.
His smirk deepens. “Afraid I’ll have my way with you again,farfalla?”
