Page 104 of Dirty Mafia Torment
The smell of hay greets me, a fresh country scent I’m beginning to get used to. Sunsets amber rays filter between the wooden slats, and a momentary pang of guilt hits me. Penned like a dog and hours spent alone, he must be pulling his hair out.
I approach his form sprawled out in the hay. Even asleep, a soft smug smile softens his features. Withdrawal is brutal, but he seems at peace right now. For his sake, I hope his issue is more about getting clean than staying that way.
I drop the tote carrying tonight’s special, a few side dishes, and dessert on the bench, then inch forward and nudge him with my foot.
He’s out cold.
“Wake up,” I demand.
Not even a flutter of his dark lashes.
I wait three seconds, then do it again.
He shoots up, grabs my ankle, and yanks me off-balance. My arms flail, a sharp gasp tears from my throat, and then I crash onto his chest with a thud. Before I can blink, he rolls and pins me beneath him, his weight pressing me into the straw.
His broad smirk is close enough to taste. “I’m awake now.”
In that exact moment, I realize I need to rethink what I’m getting myself into. His pretty dick has made me reckless.
Hands on his chest, I prepare to shove him off. But he’s warm, and muscled, and so sexy even my brain cells melt.
I hate that with one touch, he’s got me dumbstruck.
His gaze flicks to my mouth, and time stills.
He’s going to kiss me.
Do I want him to?
My pulse races, and I swear I’m sweating. Kissing is far too intimate, and exactly the opposite goal of my wining and dining him tonight.
What do I do? Slap his face? Grab his dick?
“Your dinner’s getting cold,” I lie.
His eyes light up. “The dinner you carried on a thirty-minute bus ride from Rome?”
Truth is, the tote is insulated and the food piping hot when I placed it inside.
He smooths an errant lock of hair from my cheek.
I still beneath his touch.
“You’re gorgeous when you’re flustered.”
“Get off me.”
“Kiss me first.”
I stiffen. “Not on your life.”
“Okay,” he says.
I narrow my eyes at him. Impossible. It’s not in his nature to give up so easily.
“If not on my life, how about my death?”
“What?”
