Page 103 of Mafia And Maid
“No.” I shake my head. “I just love the sound of your laugh.”
“Oh.” Her gaze falls to the ground as her hands twist the fabric of her apron.
Knife forgotten, I step closer. “It’s beautiful.” I tilt her chin up so she can see just how much I mean it. “I’ll just have to make you laugh again to prove it.”
Her cheeks flush, and those soft freckles along the bridge of her nose taunt me. Just one taste. I can have just one taste without getting carried away.
As if she’s reading my mind, Rosa’s pink tongue flicks out, tempting me. “We should finish,” she murmurs.
“Right. What’s next?”
I step back, watching as she quickly finishes chopping the lettuce into smaller pieces before adding it to the bowl. Step after step, Rosa guides me through the process. It’s easy enough, but when she does it, she makes it look effortless.
The counter is covered in a mess. Flour dusts the surface from where it exploded when I added it to the mixer on high. Again, her soft squeal of laughter catches me off guard, stealing my breath from me. Relaxed, she and I worked side by side, as if we’ve done this our whole lives.
Domestic.That’s the word that continues to flash into my mind over and over.
This is too domestic for someone like me. And yet, watching Rosa relax and talk to me with ease erases whatever doubt lingers in the back of my skull.
“Now, we just knead it.”
“Knead it?”
“Yeah.” She swipes her cheek with the back of her hand, streaking it with flour. “Like this.”
She’s so close. Closer than she was when we started. Her arms move as she kneads the dough in demonstration.
I smile down at her.
“You’re staring at me again,” she murmurs.
“I am.”
“Why?”
Because, even covered in flour, she’s stunning. I step closer, watching her eyes widen.
There’s a flash of fear and trepidation, but something else also catches my attention. Desire and hunger sparkle there too.
I want to wipe away the bad and replace it with only the good from now on.
And the only way to do that is to take what I want. To finally cave in and drink my fill of her.
It’s a colossally bad idea.
Anyone can walk in at any moment.
But the look on her face, flushed and delectable, spurs me on. It’s like someone’s lifted a veil from my eyes—I’m seeing clearly for the first fucking time in ages.
Her lips are glistening from where she’s licked them.Fuck.
“You have a little…” My thumb brushes the streak of flour away, lingering against her skin, hot beneath my fingers.
“Oh?” she exhales.
The hold I have on my restraint slips as if I’ve let the chain go willingly. And my mouth swallows her gasp, a lovely sound full of need and surprise, as I claim her mouth.
Her trembling fingers clutch the cotton of my T-shirt.