Thirst (The Calvettis of New York 1)

I want to wake her up by flipping her onto her stomach so I can eat her again, savoring the taste of her sweetness while she makes those hot-as-fuck noises that she made when I first brought my mouth to her pussy.

I scrub both hands through my hair.

What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

No tomorrow is ever going to be the same.

I’ve touched her. I’ve fucked her. I’ve watched her fall asleep.

I turn my back to her so I can catch my breath. My chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself.

“Rocco?”

I look to the heavens for help when I hear her whisper my name. I can’t fall in love with this woman. That’s never going to be my fate.

“Hey,” I say quietly as I turn back to face her.

Her eyes lazily run over the length of my body. “You got dressed.”

I snap the waistband of my boxer briefs. “Just these.”

“You’re wearing more than me.” She kicks back the covers to reveal her beautiful, lush body.

I stare at it, taking in the flushed pink hue of her skin, her hardened nipples and the smooth plane of her stomach.

“Show me your scar, Rocco.”

The scars that matter are inside of me, marring my heart. They’ve never faded. They never will.

I inch down the waistband of my boxers to run my finger over the scar on my left hip. “It’s here.”

She squints her eyes. “I can’t see it. Come closer.”

She urges me with a wave of her hand.

I take two steps closer to the bed until I’m standing right in front of her. “Look closely, Dexie. It’s here.”

She skims her finger over it. “I see it now.”

I should launch into the story of how I took a flying leap off a swing at a playground after I snuck a can of beer from my dad when I was fourteen. I ended up on top of a broken soda bottle, the glass piercing my skin.

Six stitches and a promise to my dad not to drink anymore were the result. Marti had a few choices words for me that day too.

Dexie moves closer to me, her elbow resting on the mattress. “Come closer.”

I move until my knees hit the bed. “I’m closer.”

“Not close enough.” Her fingers drift from the scar to dip below the waistband of my boxers.

I groan aloud when her hand circles my semi-hard cock. “Jesus.”

“I told you that I thought about you tasting me.” Her eyebrows perk when she tugs my boxer briefs down far enough to release my dick. “I thought about this a lot too.”

I almost fucking drop to my knees when her perfect lips circle the crown of my cock.

“Yes,” I hiss out, my hands tangled in her long hair.

She swallows me, working her hands over the length, twisting her tongue under the crown.