Ruthless (The Calvettis of New York 2) - Page 74

I hear a “yes, man,” next to us, followed by a string of whistles.

When we break apart, her eyes are glazed. I swear to fuck that’s exactly how I feel.

Running the pad of her thumb over my bottom lip, she smiles. “Lipstick.”

“Come home with me, Isabella.”

A soft kiss to my lips is followed by the only word I want to hear her say. “Yes.”

***

With her back against the door to my penthouse, I give Bella another kiss before we enter. This one drops the bag from her hand as her fingers tangle in my hair.

I’ve been hard since I kissed her on the sidewalk. I could barely contain myself when we rode the subway here. It was packed, so we stood. Bella’s ass was pressed against me the entire time. I dropped a hand to her hip to control our movement. Grinding against her in public may have been out of the question, but the friction of her ass brushing against my erection was enough to pull a soft moan from her when I pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

“Inside,” I groan against the corner of her mouth. “Inside now.”

She leans back to look in my eyes. “I can’t until you unlock the door.”

All the blood in my body has rushed to my cock. I can’t think straight. Pushing the box from the bakery at her, I fumble in my pocket for my keys. Tugging them out, I unlock the door quickly.

I wait for her to enter first. She bends down to pick up the bag she dropped. That gifts me with a perfect view of the top of her tits.

Her gaze meets mine when she straightens. “Were you checking me out?”

“I’ve been doing that since I met you at Atlas 22.”

Shrugging a shoulder, she laughs. “Same.”

Watching her walk, I follow behind a step. “You’ve been checking me out since that night?”

She drops everything in her hands on the foyer table. “Every chance I could. I even found some pictures of you online.”

I know what she’s talking about. Alyssa kept a running diary of our relationship on her social media pages. After I broke things off, I asked her repeatedly to wipe my face clean from her online presence, but she insisted our relationship was “a chapter of her story.”

“The only pictures of you online are on your Facebook page, and those are two years old,” I point out.

That spins her around to face me. “You looked at my Facebook?”

I drop my keys and wallet on the table. “Don’t pretend that you’re surprised,

Bella. You know I’ve been fantasizing about you for weeks.”

She steps out of one of her heels before she does the same with the other. The loss of height puts her almost a full foot shorter than me.

“What did you think about when you fantasized about me?”

I fucking love that she’s not too shy to ask. I love that her cheeks haven’t bloomed pink out of embarrassment. She took my confession for what it is. I’m telling her that I’ve thought about her when I stroked myself.

Sliding out of my suit jacket, I drop it on the floor. “Your tits.”

Her gaze falls to the front of her dress. “They’re nice, aren’t they?”

“From what I’ve seen, they’re fucking magnificent.” I edge a finger over the neckline of the red dress she’s wearing. “I want to see more.”

She turns slowly, lifting her hair with her hand. “Unzip me and I’ll show you.”

With a steady hand, I grab the pull and yank the zipper down in one fluid movement. The back of the dress falls open, revealing a black lace bra and the top of a black thong.

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Calvettis of New York Romance
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