Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
My knee is stiff tonight. I pushed myself extra hard with the exercises this evening because I’m determined to walk without this damn cane at Anya’s party. For now, however, I don’t have a choice but to lean on it as I limp my way over to my gorgeous, alluring wife.
Burying my head in her neck, I inhale her summery fragrance. “You smell delicious.”
“Mm, so do you.” She tilts her neck to give me better access. “Did you enjoy your shower?”
“I needed it after that workout.”
She turns and braces her hands on the counter behind her. “You’re overdoing it. I’m worried you’ll injure yourself.”
Unable to resist, I cup her hip and glide my hand to her tight ass. “Don’t worry about me.”
She looks cute in a white cropped top with daisy earrings. Her red hair cascades in wavy curls down her back. I wrap those glossy strands around my fist and arrange them over her shoulder. She looks so goddamn beautiful and innocent standing there in that small white top and sexy jeans with those tiny white daisies in her ears. I put my other hand on her waist where a silken strip of skin is bared above the waistband of her jeans.
She cranes her neck to meet my gaze. “If it’s your job to know what I need, it’s my job to worry about you.”
“Wrong.” I want to kiss her. I need her. My voice is hoarse with the lust that instantly fires through my veins. “It’s my job to worry, or did you forget?”
She grabs hold of my shoulders and leans backward, escaping that kiss when I aim for her lips.
“You can’t carry the whole world on your shoulders, Saverio De Luca. Sometimes, you have to let someone else take care of you for a change.”
I nuzzle her nose. “You’re good to me. If I failed to tell you that I appreciate you, don’t let there ever be any doubt about it.”
Livy reenters, smiling as she waves a finger at us. “No hanky-panky in the kitchen. Our guests are about to arrive.”
“Guests?” I ask, holding Anya’s gaze, letting her read the intention in mine.
Because I still want her.
Because I’ll always need her.
A cute flush turns Anya’s cheeks a pretty shade of peach even as she shrugs nonchalantly and makes innocent eyes. “Surprise.”
My lips quirk. I may be permanently aroused around her, but Anya isn’t unaffected. Her breasts heave with her quickened breathing, and a vein throbs in her pale, slender neck.
“Is that right?” I drawl, taking great pleasure in my effect on her. “Who did you invite?”
The sound of the doorbell interrupts our game. Sadly.
“Can you get that?” Anya asks, flustered. “I quickly want to check on Claire. She’s sleeping longer than usual.”
I hover another moment, caging her in, making her understand that if she goes, it’s only because I allow it.
A sweet brrr comes through the monitor on the counter, almost as if Claire is trying to blow bubbles.
That warm, fuzzy feeling I always get when I’m with Claire heats my chest.
Livy laughs. “She’s awake, all right. She’s probably talking to her mobile again. Do you want me to fetch her?”
“That’s okay,” Anya says quickly, her golden eyes trapped in my stare. “I’ll go.”
I press closer still, letting her feel the bulge in my jeans—what she does to me. I enjoy how her body fits against mine for a second longer just because I can and because Claire isn’t crying yet. Anya swallows, her delicate throat moving with the action. I’m tempted to use her hair like a rope and reel her in before dragging her to the nearest room—my study—and bending her over my desk. Then I’ll lay her out on the desktop and fuck her until she’s hoarse from screaming my name.
The things I fantasize about must be written as clearly on my face as it’s evident in my jeans, because Anya flattens her palms on my chest and gently but firmly pushes me away.
I step back reluctantly, not keen on giving her space. She uses the opportunity to dart around me. If I let her get away, it’s only because we have an audience and guests waiting at the door. That’s all right. I’ll get her alone later tonight. And then there’ll be no running from me.
While Anya escapes upstairs, I walk with painful steps to the door. The guards could’ve just as easily opened for our surprise guests, but we try to keep up a semblance of normality.
Nicole and Logan’s faces stare at me from the alarm panel screen. They’re carrying covered dishes and a bottle of wine.
Heaving a sigh, I open the door. The guards stand at attention, staring straight ahead with their hands folded in front of them. Neither Nicole nor her husband comment or react to their presence. They understand why it’s necessary, and despite that, they’re still here, which commands my respect. After all, showing up on my doorstep means risking your life. You never know if you’re going to get bombed or shot at. Although, with the war waging against the Morellis, I’ve stepped up security around the house. The men may not be visible, but there’s a small army out there to protect us, and they’re on high alert. We have enough alarms in place around the perimeter of the property to warn us if a spider dares it over the wall.