Chapter 16
Marissa had never been kissed like this before. This was a grown man kiss. One where he knew what the hell he was doing and did it well.
The firm pressure was at once surprising and delightful. When Bruno’s tongue slipped between her lips, a shudder of longing ricocheted through her body, and she slipped into a cottony daze of lust. Easing her arms around his neck, she held him tighter—so tight her nipples hardened into firm points of desire.
She inhaled sharply and trembled with the sudden influx of need that swamped her body.
At the press of his hard erection against her lower abdomen, she groaned and moisture leaked into her panties. Her core suddenly throbbed and ached with the need for his possession.
She felt hot and needy. She felt pure want.
Pure desire. Pure unfiltered lust.
Desperate for more, she lifted her hand to his head and encountered soft strands of black hair. She curled her fingers around the thick strands. She needed him. Hard. Rough. Now. Here. In this kitchen. On top of the cold, hard counter or on the damn floor. She’d take whatever he offered.
His fingers tugged her blouse from her jeans and pushed their way underneath, his large palm coating her skin with warmth.
Bruno kissed her with such heat, her head spun like a top. He backed her against the rigid steel counter, and though the edge prodded her back, she barely felt it. All her senses concentrated on him and the refreshing citrus scent of his skin, the ambrosia-like flavor of his kiss, and the firmness of his tight body against hers.
When he released her lips, she whimpered in agony from the separation, but he continued to kiss her. His lips trailed down her neck, forcing her head back and allowing her to relish the moment.
Bruno shoved the blouse above her breasts. Then his head dipped, and he fastened his lips over one taut nipple through her satiny bra.
Gasping, Marissa clutched the back of his head and curved backward, a low moan slipping from her lips. She closed her eyes, breathing heavily, panting as his mouth made the most delicious sensations flutter across her aching breasts.
Bruno lifted her onto the counter and pulled her tight to the hardness in his pants. Her core throbbed. She was practically on fire, burning up with the desperate heat of longing.
He pushed her backward onto the cold, hard surface and pressed his face between her legs. A whimpering groan flew from her lips. The teasing touch was too much. She ached for the torture of his lips on her wet flesh.
Her hazy gaze captured the lights overhead as he filled his hands with her breasts and kneaded their softness with expert precision. His touch was knowing and deliberate—and all the while, he kissed her soft belly and slowly drove her insane. She struggled to think coherently. How could he wreak such havoc, and they were both fully clothed?
He unsnapped her jeans, and with the tug of the fabric, her body jerked and became wetter with anticipation. She should stop him but didn’t have the will power. Whatever he wanted, she wanted, on top of this cold steel surface in the middle of his restaurant kitchen.
Marissa bit her bottom lip as he lowered the zipper?—
The cry of an alarm punctured the silence. Bruno’s eyes lifted to hers, and shock slowly pierced the veil of lust that consumed her—like a bucket of ice water tossed into her face.
The timer, alerting them the dessert was finished.
“Mierda.”
Bruno stepped away to the oven. He removed and placed the strawberry loaf on a cooling rack. As he worked, Marissa sat up and pulled down her shirt. Her fingers trembled, and her skin flushed hot from embarrassment.
What the hell was she thinking?
She was wet and her panties soaked. The only reason they hadn’t had sex was because of the barrier of clothes between them. But she’d been ready and willing.
She hopped onto the floor and pulled up the zipper on her jeans, right as Bruno returned his attention to her.
“Marissa.” He growled her name, disapproving of her moving from where he’d left her.
“I-I... That shouldn’t have happened. I can’t believe that happened.” She lifted shaky fingers to her temple, talking more to herself than to him.
The minute he had opened the door and let her into the restaurant, the buzz of electricity she always experienced in his presence assaulted her again, stronger than normal. Perhaps because she had entered his turf and was at a slight disadvantage. She’d done her best to ignore the sensation, yet this was the result.
“The kiss was inevitable,” Bruno said.
“No. I disagree.” Marissa vehemently shook her head.
“I have been attracted to you since our first meeting,” Bruno said.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. My body burns for you.” Dark heat flared to life in his eyes.
The rawness of his hunger made her tremble inside because she completely understood. She had tried tamping down her attraction to him, pretending it didn’t exist. But desire was a dark substance living inside her, ready to unfurl at the slightest touch.
“You came to us to find a wife. That is my job. My job is to find you a wife, which means nothing can happen between us.”
“Listen to me, I understand you have some kind of ethical dilemma about getting involved with a client, but as long as we’re two consenting adults, I don’t see the problem.”
“You don’t understand. Executive Match has a strict policy against matchmakers getting involved with clients. We need to stay the course and focus on the goal, the reason you hired us. My job is to find your wife.” Maybe if she repeated the words enough, they would stick in her lust-addled brain.
“Then I’ll fire you as my matchmaker!” Bruno exclaimed, sounding exasperated.
“If you want to fire me, that’s your choice, but going our separate ways won’t change anything. I won’t get involved with you.”
He took a couple of steps closer, and her body tensed.
“If the timer hadn’t gone off, I would have had you right on top of this counter.” He slammed a hand on the steel with an open palm, eyes boring into hers as he spoke in a matter-of-fact, confident voice.
Heat seared her cheeks with the acknowledgment of the truth. Bruno was right. He had destroyed her inhibitions. She would’ve let him pull off her jeans and screw her, and she had no doubt she would have loved every minute.
“I should go.” Marissa grabbed her bag off the bar.
“Stay. Let’s finish this conversation.”
“There is nothing to finish!” she snapped.
Maybe sexual frustration caused her irritation. She hadn’t wanted a man like this in forever. For years, she’d had her needs adequately taken care of through manual stimulation and the toys locked in the drawer of her bedside table. Now living, breathing temptation threatened to derail her years of abstinence and cause her to make a bad decision that she knew had far-reaching consequences.
“You’re simply going to walk out of here as if nothing happened?” Bruno demanded.
“That’s exactly what I plan to do.”
“What if I believe you’re the right woman for me?”
“I’m not.” Marissa took a deep breath and released the air through her lips. “I know what you want, remember? Believe me, I am not the kind of woman you’re looking for.”
“Shouldn’t you let me be the judge of that?” Bruno asked.
“What you want doesn’t matter. Good night, Bruno.”
Marissa left the kitchen. She half expected him to try to stop her—or maybe she hoped he would? As she exited the restaurant, her phone rang. She stopped walking when she saw the name on the screen.
“Hi, Carla. Everything okay?”
Listening to the babysitter, the breath left her body. When Carla finished talking, she clutched the phone tight and nodded vigorously though the other woman couldn’t see her.
Then her son’s teary voice came on the line. “Mommy, are you coming?”
“Of course I’m coming, baby. Be good for Miss Carla, and I’ll be right there, okay?” She kept her voice calm because she didn’t want to scare him, but inside she was falling apart. Her son was on his way to the hospital. She should be with him, instead of here—making out with a client.
“Okay,” Theo said in a subdued voice.
Carla came back on the line. “How long do you think you’ll be?”
“I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes, maybe fifteen.”
She hung up the phone.
“Marissa, is something wrong?”
She swung around to face Bruno. “The babysitter called. My son, Theo… he’s on his way to the hospital. I-I have to go.” She spun toward her car.
“Marissa, wait. I’ll drive you.”
His voice reached her in a vacuum. She barely heard him as she fumbled for the key fob in her bag.
A warm hand clasped her elbow.
“Marissa, let me drive.”
His soothing voice calmed the erratic panic beating in her head. Theo was her everything.
When she looked at Bruno, all she saw was concern in his gaze.
“I can drive,” she insisted.
He held out his palm, and she suddenly felt overwhelmed. The truth was, she didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t want to handle everything herself. She wanted someone else to take the reins.
She handed him the keys. “We have to hurry,” she said.
“I’ll be right back.” Bruno jogged back to the restaurant while she waited in the car, her mind racing, trying not to fall apart.
Carla said Theo was fine, but no parent wanted to hear their child was going to the emergency room, fine or not. He had stopped crying, but he wanted her. She hated the idea of him being there without her, while she was… she shook her head. She didn’t want to think about the carnal desire that overcame her in Bruno’s kitchen. She could beat herself up later when she was alone.
Bruno returned to the Camry and slid behind the wheel. Neither of them said a word as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the hospital.