Page 29 of Stolen Kisses
I knew that would make him crazy. He pressed down on his back teeth looking like he was trying to keep his cool. He looked me over in my little summer dress, running his gaze over my body. I lapped up the stare and the way he’d lingered on my breasts.
“You’re going out dressed like that?”
“You don’t like what I’m wearing?”
“Love it baby, but you aren’t going out without me dressed like that. And in response to your first question, yes I will follow you. But I won’t be standing around like some fucking chaperone.” He inclined his head to the side and intensified his gaze.
“So, if you aren’t going to watch over me, what would you be doing? I certainly hope not playing the mafia boy.” I knew he and Christina had links to Raphael Rossi. Christina told me that he’d recently started working for him.Properly. I didn’t know details, but I knew it was kind of a big deal.
“She told you?”
“She tells me everything.” Everything except the name of her mystery man, but Christina had told me enough. “So, what does dear old Raphael allow you to do?”
“Important stuff.” He seemed uneasy at the direction of the conversation. Maybe because he liked to think he was one of the good guys and I’d just called him out on something that might have been somewhat a secret.
“Like what, carry his mail? Or polish his shoes? Or does he watch you ride around on that stupid old bike?”
“The bike is vintage Maria.”
“Whatever.” It was old, that was all I knew.
He held my gaze and we said nothing for a few seconds. He just looked at me then he straightened up and something sensual flickered in his gaze.
“Go out with me?” he asked and I simply smiled.
It was the smile I gave to mask what I truly felt inside so people couldn’t figure me out.
Inside I felt all of that chemistry and attraction Christina spoke about. It was all there and I tried to resist it.
Nice …
Too nice … that was what he was. The kind of guy who could make your heart melt and you could get lost in him. Still since I thought things like love were myths and best reserved for fairytales I shoved the feelings back down.
“I’ll tell you what,” I leaned closer and ran my finger over his chest. Shouldn’t have done that. I’d never expected to feel hard muscle, or to feel the strong pull of desire deep in the pit of my core.
“What are you going to tell me besides the word yes?”
“A few things that may lead me to that yes word.”
“What are they?”
I didn’t miss the eagerness in his voice or the way his eyes lit up, like I was about to give him the secrets to the fountain of youth or something.
“Deeper pockets, you need them.”
He chuckled. “Woman you really are something else. You telling me my pockets aren’t deep enough to go on a date with you?”
I nodded as simply as if he were talking about the weather. “Uh huh.”
“We’ve known each other forever, and you won’t go on a simple date with me?”
“Deeper pockets,” I repeated.
“How deep?”
“Five digits a month and we can talk.”
He gave me a wolfish grin. “I want a lot more than a date for five digits a month.”
