Gian (Trassato Crime Family #1)(33)

He threw his head back and laughed, and his corded neck muscles stood out in sharp relief. “You’re a bossy thing.”

He guided himself inside of me in one breath-robbing thrust. He paused for a second. Then, moved in and out in experimental jousts that ignited little spasms of mind-numbing bliss deep inside my core.

I rolled my hips.

“Shit,” he said, his voice thick and shaky with desire. “If you keep doing that, this won’t last long.”

“I don’t care.” I rolled my hips again, and this time, I dug my nails into his back, hunting for the release that already shimmered exasperatingly close.

Like a mind reader, he anchored his hands around my hips, positioning me so that each flex of his pelvis rubbed me in a way that had me mumbling senseless words and winding me tighter and tighter. Every molecule inside of me reached for him. Craved him. Within mere minutes, an orgasm split through me, my inner muscles clamping down in frenzied pleasure.

A scream tumbled from my swollen lips. My heart pounded like I had danced for hours, and the spasms kept going and going like I had all the time in the world.

Gian thrust hard and fast. With the bed frame creaking and the headboard tapping against the wall, he lost control. His lips were pulled back over his teeth, and damp strands of his hair clung to his forehead. His eyelids dropped to half-mast, and he swelled inside of me. A whisper of a groan split his lips, and he exploded.

When the haze of lust faded, he rolled off me. I pried open my eyelids and looked at him. He was stretched out on the bed with one arm propped behind his head, his chest heaving and his brow dotted with perspiration. He caught my gaze and slotted his fingers through mine without saying anything.

Lying there next to him, sated and content for the first time since I hurt my ankle was unreal. I felt like I had stepped into an alternative universe where black was white and white was black. While none of our problems were resolved and the animosity between us would unquestionably return, for right now, in this silver of time, my heart was free, and my head was clear. Amusement still toying with the corners of my lips, my eyes drifted closed, and my heart rate evened out.

“By the way, don’t think I didn’t notice the way you mangled my toothpaste.”

“Huh?” My eyes popped open, and I looked at him. “Mangled your toothpaste. What the hell are you talking about?”

He poked the side of my ribs with our interlaced hands. “You squeezed the middle instead of rolling up the end.”

I blinked. “So?”

“Who does that?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Apparently, me.”

“Yeah, well, that needs to stop.” He clucked at me. “That’s the kind of stuff that will ruin our fake engagement.”

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll lodge a complaint about your dictatorial ways with Carmela to lay the groundwork for our impending breakup.”

He snorted. “Carmela has to take my side. She’s my twin. Twins trump friends.”

I grinned. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN




Evangeline



My eyes blinked open, and I felt nearly as tired as I did when I finally fell asleep last night. With a heavy sigh, I rolled onto my side. Big red numbers on the alarm clock screamed at me.

9:18.

Crap.

Double crap.

I had booked time in the dance studio at ten. I’d be late even if I managed to get ready and out the door in the next fifteen minutes. I jumped out of bed, and cold air hit my naked form like a brick wall. A rush of uncomfortable memories taunted me. Jeered at me.

My stomach bottomed out. Flames licked at my cheeks. My knees wobbled, and even supposing I wanted to pretend like last night didn’t happen, my first step shattered the illusion. I was deliciously sore in all the wrong…or right places. I couldn’t decide which. My sleepy brain scrambled for a way to rationalize what had happened between us.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about him. It doesn’t matter.

The clock ticking, I yanked a t-shirt over my head and ran out of the room. Ten minutes later, I was dressed with my dance bag slung over my shoulder and rushing toward the front door. I skidded to a halt when I noticed Gian sitting at the long walnut kitchen table, scrolling through his phone.

My heart stopped for a second then lurched into gear, beating double time, fueled by my already frazzled nerves. I’d counted on not seeing him for a day or two, or at worst until tonight. He was normally long gone by this time of day. Now that I thought about it, though, I’d seen him more in the last three days than the entire previous week.

“Where’s Tony?” I kept my voice monotone all while silently begging my face not to blush.

It wasn’t like I’d never hooked up with a guy and had to face him the next day, but it happened infrequently enough that I felt decidedly awkward. I didn’t know where to put my hands. I didn’t know where to look, so my gaze bounced everywhere other than on him. I licked my lips. I fidgeted from one leg to the other. More than a little annoyed with myself, I froze like a deer caught in headlights. Was there anything more pathetic than the way I was acting? Because right then, I felt like an enormous loser who couldn’t handle a simple hookup with sophisticated indifference.

Gian looked at me over the rim of his blue coffee mug, one brow cocked, his ever-smirking lips mocking my discomfort. “He had some personal business today, so I gave him the day off.”