Page 21 of Do-Over with my Ex

Her words stung, only pissing me off more.

“You don’t know what you want,” I clapped back.

“And you do?” she demanded. “Are you going to stand there telling me I want to be with you, I want the lifestyle and the reputation and everything else that comes with being with a Carelli? Don’t flatter yourself. If you want someone to follow you around like a puppy, I’m pretty sureanyother woman in the world will be happy to fill the spot.”

“What will you do?”

“Whatever the fuck I want!” she cried out.

There it was.

“You’re so set on proving everyone else wrong about you, rebelling against what they expect, that you shoot yourself in the foot because it might be in line with whatyouwant, and you can’t have that.”

A black car appeared, the headlights slicing into the warm night.

“You don’t know me,” Celine sneered and reached to open the door. I pushed it shut again before she could even try to get in.

She glared at me.

“Let me go, Lorenzo.”

“No,” I said.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not going to give you what you want.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“I do,” I said simply.

She laughed sarcastically. “Oh? And what’s that?”

I grabbed her and kissed her. She pulled away and raised her hand to slap me, but I grabbed her wrist before she made contact. I’d expected her to do that. She stared at me, her eyes fiery and furious, her lips parted. We were caught in a bubble where the rest of the world fell away, and the tension between us was so fucking thick I could slice it with a knife.

Her eyes slid to my lips, and she leaned forward and kissed me.

I spun her around and pushed her up against the car. I grinded my cock against her, pushed my tongue into her mouth, and she was out of breath in no time.

“Come home with me,” she muttered.

“The car is already here,” I said.

I reached for the door and let her up before I opened the door and let her get in first. I followed after her.

Celine cleared her throat and gave the driver the address to the Forger home in Beverly Hills.

The car had barely started moving when I pulled Celine closer to me and kissed her again, hands in her hair, curling my fingers into a fist. She moaned into my mouth, and I knew I had her.

Or did she have me?

With Celine, I was never really sure, but right now, I didn’t care who had who. My tongue was in her mouth, and that was all I could think about.

7

CELINE

Ileanedoverandpressed the button that slid the dark glass partition up between us and the driver. This car wasn’t a limo, but it would do.