Page 60 of Liberated By Sin
“Can I help you?”
I turned to find a man approaching me with a sleeping toddler on his shoulder. His eyes narrowed with suspicion as he assessed me from head to toe. Sure, it was late, but I could have been visiting a friend or relative, for all he knew.
“Visiting a friend,” I said, deciding to play nice.
“Is that right? And your friend liveshere?”
Andretti had exhausted every last ounce of patience and humanity I had left. This man’s intrusive questions would not end well for him.
“I’m sorry. Are you security?”
“You could say that. But considering you’re atmydoor, I think I have every right to question who the fuck you are.”
My eyes flitted to the black numbers on the metal door, certain I had the correct address, then back to the man and child. Blood rushed past my ears when a fleeting and devastating thought crossed my mind. Could this man be someone important in her life? The boy her son? There were similarities in the child’s features and complexion, down to the curls framing his face.
“Are you…okay?” the man asked, taking a cautious step backward, eyes fixed on the front of my shirt, where the spatters of Andretti’s blood painted the fabric. Our eyes connected, and we saw each other as a threat in that millisecond. He reached behind him as I did the same.
“Santino?”
Amara’s voice caused us both to hesitate. He broke first, lifting his gaze beyond me, and I followed in time to see her step into the hallway.
“Amara, you know this man?” I didn’t like the way he addressed her by name or the protective tone he used. “Sua camisa estáensanguentada.” The blood on my shirt had riled him up.
I gritted my teeth. Who the fuck did he think he was?
“It’s okay. He’s a friend,” she responded, catching my elbow and tugging me toward the door from where she’d emerged.
The bastard’s eyes thinned again as he gave me another once-over. Only when the child in his arms began to stir did he seem to relax.
“I’ll be right here if you need me,” he said reassuringly as he walked toward his unit. Neither of us broke eye contact until both respective doors had closed.
“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were stopping by? I would have…”
“Told me not to?” I lifted an eyebrow.
“Well, for starters, I would have given you the correct address…” She looked down at her striped socks and laughed. “And probably changed into something more appropriate.”
I’d seen her in nothing but pasties and a thong, but something about her outfit, socks pulled up to her knees and an oversized sweater falling mid-thigh, made me want to wrap her in my arms.
She’s yours now.
I tugged Amara by the front of her sweater, and she rose onto her toes. “You’re perfect.”
A flash of discomfort moved through her features, and she stiffened. But before she could close off or say otherwise, I leaned in for a kiss, thoroughly relieved when I felt her mold into me. Amara tasted sweet, like maple syrup. I wanted more and swept my tongue along hers until she did the same. Soft moans spilled into my mouth when I deepened the kiss, swallowing every sweet little noise.
“I knew I should have made you pancakes that day,” I teased, licking the seam of her mouth.
She chuckled. “I wasn’t expecting company. I couldn’t sleep and—Would you like some?”
“Yes.” With one hand at the nape of her neck, I pulled her in and devoured the sweet taste still lingering on her lips.
My new favorite flavor.
“That’s not what I meant,” she said, her eyes still closed and a smile stretching across her pretty face.
“Preziosa, who’s your neighbor?” I asked, suddenly feeling protective and territorial when I remembered how he’d attempted to warn her in Portuguese as if I was a threat. But I supposed he’d been right in his assumption. I was seconds from disposing of him, even while his boy lay in his arms.
“He’s simply that—a neighbor, but he’s also a homicide detective, Santino. So I’ll have to do some damage control.” She glanced at my stained shirt.