“Wrong again, San Giovanni.” He tilts his head to me as he grabs his coffee beans and takes them to the giant silver coffee grinder in the opposite corner of the kitchen. As the machine starts up, I watch him lean against the counter, resting his eyes on me.
“What?” I smirk.
“Do you know how hot you are?” I raise my brows in amusement at his question before realizing he’s serious.
“Um, I mean… yes. I think so?” I gulp when he doesn’t break my gaze, studying something in my eyes I probably don’t want him to see, so I look away.
“Hm.” He remarks as he takes the freshly ground coffee across the kitchen to the French press again.
“What?” I scrunch my nose, and he laughs.
“Well, they say confident people always win staring contests. You looked away.” I cock my head as he fills an electric kettle with water.
“That’s absurd.”
“That’s science.”
“I felt like you were being invasive.”
“That’s why you looked away?” He turns with an unbelieving snort.
“Mm, yeah,” I conclude confidently, sliding off the counter and flank to his side.
“What are you doing?” He asks as he clicks the kettle to boil the water, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.
“I want a rematch.” I cross my arms over my chest, and he snorts again.
“No.” He says through a grin, shaking his head at me, eyes starry with a dangerous level of attraction that makes me feel like I’m playing with fire.
“Yes. Unless you’re not confident enough...” I persist as the water begins to boil. He narrows his eyes at me, his lips still turned up slightly at the corners.
“One rematch. But I know I’m gonna smoke you.”
“Right. We’ll see about that.” I square up to him, press the toe of my shoes to his, and close my eyes.
“One.” I brace myself to win. “Two.” I feel the heat of his hand wrapping around my waist. “Three.” His other hand is unzipping the back of my dress, and my eyes fly open.
“Eyes on me.” He whispers, pulling the shoulders of my dress down. I swallow the lump in my throat.
“I’m gonna win,” I whisper, letting whatever the fuck he wants to happen play out because I can’t stop it. I’m frozen in place, succumbing to every touch like it's a drug, and I’m helplessly addicted. My breathing picks up as he pulls my dress off the rest of the way. It drops to my ankles, and I grab his waistband, not taking my eyes from his.
There’s a flicker of questions between us for just a moment. An is-this-really-happening look of hope, like a flame that’s taken over the foundation of our whole plan. Now it’s burning around us, licking up the walls, and we can’t bother to put it out. The ice worlds we were in before this was full of cold and sparkless sex, but even without sex, our worlds seem to grow warmer when we’re near.
It’s like an explosion when we collide, our mouths meshing, so there’s no longer distance between us. I tug at the bottom of his shirt as he grasps my face with his large hands. He lets me take it off him, barely separating from me, so I can toss it behind me.
His hands fiddle with my bra for a second before he realizes the clasp is in the front, but once he figures that out, he knows exactly how to take it off. It slides down my arms, and he presses his chest to mine. The heat of our skin, the impression of his deeply chilled abs on mine, sends butterflies from my stomach to my head.
I’m dizzy as they flutter, wrapped up in him, sucking intently on my lip and sliding his hands down to my hips. I unzip his slacks as he pulls down my thong, and I’m not ready for how quickly he turns me around. Lowering himself and kissing my ass, he grips the inside of my thighs. His fingers move upwards, and I grab onto the counter in front of me so I don’t fall.
“Fuck, Stella. Your ass is incredible.” He turns me around again, and I grab his waistband again, tug his slacks down and grab his thick, solid cock before he can stop me again. He lets out a breath, pulling me closer to him and cupping my breast with his other hand.
Our eyes dance, studying the complexities of the colors we can’t seem to get enough of. I feel his hesitancy for a moment, a look in his eyes that doesn’t want to reach where his hand is already moving. It's in between my thighs now as he kisses my neck.
“If you’re going to do it, you might as well fucking do it.” The moment I say this, he shoves his fingers inside me, sending an immediate pulse of pleasure through my body that makes me want to sink to the floor. No one has ever touched me like this, forcefully, with so much lust, and I want more of him with every inch we take down this road of no return.
I can’t get enough of him. My fingers curl into the waistband of his boxers as his fingers slip deeper into my pussy, finding that spot that makes me ache and writhe so easily that it’s as if he knew my body already. I moan helplessly, my hips arching into his hand, and he wraps one arm around my waist to steady me.
“Look at me,” he growls, his other hand on my cheek, tipping my chin up, and I meet his eyes with my own glassy ones. I want to touch him too, even if I know it’s pushing us further toward making a decision we might regret. I shove his boxers down with one swift motion, my hand wrapping around his thick cock.