Ruthless (The Calvettis of New York 2) - Page 78

“I told her I was spending the night with you.” Her chest moves on a sigh. “She won’t tell anyone. Our secret is safe with her.”

I don’t want this to be a secret. I hate that it has to be, but I need the job and she does too.

“Is it time for dessert now?” Her eyes shine blue against the dim light from the lamp in the corner.

“I’m ready for dessert anytime.” I pat my lap, tugging on the waistband of the black silk pajama bottoms I put on before I left my bedroom. “Let me kiss you and then I’ll eat you.”

The lures a laugh from her. “I meant whatever is in that pink box you brought home with you.”

Ah, yes. The surprise for her taste buds.

There’s no way in hell anything can taste better than her, but I’m still all for feeding her cake.

I push to my feet and cross the room. Scooping up the box, I turn to face her. The sight before me pulls all the air from my lungs.

Her hair is a mess, her make up is smudged, and my dress shirt dwarfs her, but she looks radiant. I want time to stop at this moment. I want her to stay in place forever.

Bouncing up to her knees, she points at me. “I think I’m going to love whatever is inside that box.”

I think I’m in love with you.

The words I’ve never spoken to a woman play on my tongue, but I chase them away with a grin. “Get ready to have the best cupcakes in Brooklyn, beautiful.”

Clapping her hands, she laughs. “They may be the best in Brooklyn, but they can’t compete with the cupcakes from Sweet Bluebells on the Upper West Side. Remind me to take you there one day.”

I’ll never remind her. I’ll never set foot in that part of the city again. My sister may have forgiven me for what happened there nineteen years ago, but I’ll never forgive myself.

***

After finishing off a red velvet cupcake, Bella eyes me. “I admit they’re good, but they’re not the best I’ve ever had.”

Am I? I don’t need the reassurance, but I want to know that what we shared tonight was special. Sex is just sex to me. It’s always been until now. What I experienced with Isabella was beyond the chase for an orgasm. Watching her come and being inside her consumed me.

I took one bite of a chocolate cupcake and reached my limit. I much prefer the ricotta cheesecake her grandmother made. A slice of that was my breakfast this morning.

“Your sister seems nice.” She edges her bare leg over mine.

I grab hold of it, squeezing the flesh of her thigh. “Felicity is the best.”

Her finger starts work on that thumbnail again. It’s bare. Any trace of polish has long since disappeared. “Is your other sister like her?”

Her curiosity is feeding this. I don’t want to shut her out, so I keep the conversation moving forward. “Felicity and Beatrice are the same in some ways, but very different in others.”

“Felicity and Beatrice,” she says their names as if she’s testing how it will sound on her tongue. “And Henrietta.”

“My sisters,” I affirm with a nod.

“Not to pry,” she starts before she shifts her ass so she’s closer to me. “But it seemed like you were relived when Felicity told you that you could see Beatrice.”

Grabbing her hand, I take her thumb between my teeth and nip on it.

“Ouch.” She tries to tug her hand from mine, but I hold tight. “What was that for?”

“You are prying.” I lean forward to kiss her mouth. “Don’t preface anything with words you don’t mean, Bella. If you have a question, ask me outright. I’ll do the same with you.”

Understanding washes over her expression. “What happened between you and your sisters?”

“I fucked up,” I answer honestly, tugging her closer to me so I can wrap my arm around her. “I was in New York visiting my dad when I was a teenager. I was watching over Beatrice one day. There was an accident. I was exiled back to Chicago. I didn’t see my sisters again until I moved here.”

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Calvettis of New York Romance
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