Twenty
ANGELO
FOUR MONTHS AGO
“ W hat can I get ya, handsome?”
The voice was smoky, deep, and breathy. Angelo had heard enough voices like that to picture the woman without even looking up. Fiery red hair, dressed in something revealing, with the confidence to match.
He looked up, smirking when he found he was right.
Angelo loved this game—matching people to their stories based on the smallest details. It was a skill he’d honed in boardrooms, reading body language to decide who was worth his time. But somewhere along the way, it had turned into a private little game he played wherever he went, especially in crowded places like this new bar in Seattle, The Olive , which seemed way too small for the amount of people it was currently housing.
The bartender’s brows furrowed as she looked at him, clearly wondering if he was crazy. He realized he’d been staring into space for the past few seconds.
“Vermouth, neat. Please.”
She nodded, her red hair swishing, and Angelo found himself momentarily mesmerized. She was undeniably hot, but hot had never been enough for him.
The redhead placed his drink in front of him and moved on to the next customer. The place was busy for a weekday, but it made sense—the bar was new, and everyone wanted to check it out. He assumed most of these people had jobs to get to the next day, just like he did.
Fuck, how am I gonna survive at the office?
Tomorrow was his first day as CEO of Taylor Co., the first day he’d be fully in charge of a conglomerate. The thought alone was enough to make him want to down his drink in one go.
He’d known the business inside and out since he was fifteen, had run the Athens office by twenty-six, and now, at thirty-two, he was about to become CEO. He still couldn’t believe it.
He thought he had more time.
His father had been doing fine as the head of the company, enjoying every meeting like he always did. Angelo had been thriving in Athens, reconnecting with his mother and sister after so years of distance. He had his daily routine set, every minute of every day planned down to the second.
It had been perfect.
Then, out of nowhere, his father retired.
“I’m stepping down, son. You’re in charge now.”
Angelo hadn’t been thrilled to hear that over the phone, but he didn’t have a choice. His father loved the business too much to step down without meaning it, and with Angelo’s sister, Katerina, wanting nothing to do with Taylor Co., the responsibility fell squarely on his shoulders.
The move had been sudden. He’d left Athens three days ago, leaving his thankfully capable intern to handle meetings until he could appoint a replacement. After a midnight flight and a day full of exhausting paperwork and meetings, here he was—at The Olive , sipping vermouth, trying to take a break from everything and everyone.
The bartender’s fiery hair caught his eye again as she moved to the other side of the bar, and Angelo followed her with his eyes—he was too much of a people watcher.
Then something else—or rather, some one else—caught his attention, and he froze.
She’s beautiful.
Not the bartender, though she was objectively attractive. No, his focus was on the woman a few paces away, chatting with the redhead.
Sandy-blonde waves cascaded down her back, moving fluidly with every word she spoke. A curvy figure, with thick thighs he wanted to disappear between, was hugged by a dark pink dress. The dress’ neckline was modest but revealing enough to leave him wanting more and adjusting himself in his slacks.
She practically glowed , and it wasn’t the makeup—he knew just enough about that to recognize it. It was her excitement, radiating from her like a beacon calling all his ships home. It was the way her body moved as she adjusted her seating position on the barstool. Her presence, her soft-but-present confidence.
It was her.
She was magnificent.
Angelo was entranced, watching her like the little creep he was. How could he even approach her? What would he say? It had been so long since he’d had the time—or the energy—to flirt, and frankly, he felt out of the game.
So, he did nothing. He finished his drink, ordered another, and then one more. By the time he’d downed his fourth, he’d mustered just enough courage to get up and approach her. A million scenarios played out in his mind as he tried to think of something to say that wasn’t cliche, corny, or—God forbid—creepy.
He stepped closer, took a deep breath and—
“Hey, baby. Haven’t seen you around before.”
And that’s exactly what I meant by creepy.
Thankfully, Angelo hadn’t been the one to say it. The woman in front of him tensed as the sleazeball who’d spoken invaded her space, leaning against the bar with all the charm of a wet sock. Typical douchebag.
Angelo was about to swoop in with a dashing rescue when the damsel beat him to it, proving she wasn’t in distress. “You have five seconds to move away from me.”
The sleazeball chuckled, dripping with condescension. “Or what, doll? You’ll bite me?”
“I might.”
Angelo was too inebriated to feel ashamed that he was turned on by her confidence. But he wasn’t too far gone to notice when the sleazeball made a move to grab her ass—
And promptly found himself on the floor.
Everything happened so fast, Angelo barely registered it. One second, the creep was making his move, and the next, he was on his ass, clutching the hand he’d tried to use on her.
Angelo stood frozen, utterly gobsmacked. She’d done all of that while seated, in a tight dress, and heels, without so much as a hair out of place.
This is so odd , he thought, yet so goddamn arousing.
He couldn’t help himself. He moved closer to the woman, desperate to know her name, to hear her voice saying his.
“That was fucking impressive.”
Smooth, my guy. Real smooth.
The woman sighed, shaking her head, her loose waves shifting with the motion. She turned on her barstool, ready to fire off a retort, and then she looked at him.
Wow. Her eyes.
They were the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen, and he had the ridiculous, delusional thought that maybe, just maybe, she’d grace him with that gaze again someday.
He extended his hand for her to shake, hoping to get her name. “Angelo.”
“Nice to meet you, Angelo,” she said and his cock came alive. “I’m Allison.”
He nodded his head as a greeting, and a way for him to calm down, because he was in serious danger if his pants got any tighter.
She smiled softly, with a playful glint in her eye. “So, what brings you to this corner of the world tonight?”
Angelo shrugged, attempting to appear casual as his attraction for the woman grew at her confidence. “Celebrating. I got a promotion. And you?”
“Just needed a change of scenery.” She raised her glass, that wicked smile still on her lips. “Congratulations. To victories, big and small.”
He laughed at that as she kicked back her shot, before he took a sip of his vermouth, relishing the burn.
“So, what do you do when you’re not charming strangers in bars?” Her tone was flirty, but not suggestive. Just light, and casual, and God she was so fucking hot.
“I’m in business,” he replied. No matter how sexy this woman was, she was a stranger and tonight he was here to let go. He could pretend to be someone he wasn’t, and that included not being a CEO. “How about you?”
Some of her light dimmed for a brief second, before she regained her composure. Odd. “I’m a personal assistant. In business, too.”
Dangerous territory. Abort, abort.
The panic in him might not have been exactly warranted, but he couldn’t help his reaction as he thought of all the ways this could possibly go wrong. How she could be someone he would soon work with, or perhaps one of his adversaries’ assistant or—
Don’t be fucking stupid, Angelo. There’s no way.
Angelo stopped that train of thought before he lost it. He was here to have fun, and this hot-as-the-fucking-sun woman appeared to be into him. That was all he needed to know.
As the night progressed, their conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter and teasing banter. They discovered shared interests, from a love of classic movies to a mutual disdain for pineapple on pizza.
“I mean, who even thought of putting fruit on something that was already perfect?” Allison’s affronted question brought tears in Angelo’s eyes as he laughed harder than he had in a long time.
“Exactly!” Angelo managed to gasp between fits of laughter. “It’s like someone thought, ‘You know what this delicious, savory dish needs? A fruit salad!’”
Allison giggled, nodding enthusiastically, and he briefly thought she looked so innocent. “And don’t even get me started on the people who defend it like it’s some sort of culinary masterpiece.”
“Oh, the ‘pineapple pizza purists’,” Angelo said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “They act like it’s the eighth wonder of the world.”
“Right? And then there’s the whole ‘sweet and savory’ argument,” Allison added, making exaggerated air quotes. “I’m sorry, but my taste buds aren’t buying it.”
Angelo wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “You know, I think we just solved the greatest mystery of all time.”
“What’s that?” Allison asked, her eyebrows raised and her jade eyes shining with curiosity and the alcohol she had consumed.
“The reason why we haven’t achieved world peace yet,” Angelo declared. “It’s all because of pineapple on pizza. If we could just agree to ban it, imagine the harmony!”
Allison burst out laughing again. “You might be onto something. No more pineapple wars!”
Angelo’s laughter faded into a slow, deliberate smile as their eyes met and held, the atmosphere changing into a different kind of charge.
“You know,” he said, his voice thick with intent, “I think I could talk to you about anything and everything, forever.”
Allison’s pulse quickened against his hand, as he held her wrist loosely. “Oh yeah?” she asked, her voice a low, seductive purr. “And what would you start with?”
His cock jumped at her low tone and his hand started moving. His fingertips grazed her skin as he stroked up her forearm.
“I’d start with how intoxicating your eyes are when you laugh.”
Allison’s cheeks flushed and Angelo’s gaze locked onto the gorgeous color.
“Funny,” she responded, her voice barely a whisper, “I was just thinking how magnetic your smile is.”
The air between them buzzed with a palpable tension. Angelo’s eyes darkened as he took a slow, deliberate breath.
“You know,” he said, his thumb tracing slow, sensual circles on the back of her hand, “I’ve never met anyone who made me laugh this much.”
“Me neither,” Allison breathed, her heart pounding. “And I’ve never met anyone who made me feel this… electrified. Like my skin is on fire, everywhere you look.”
The bar seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in a charged silence. Angelo leaned in, his gaze flicking to her lips and back to her eyes. “Allison,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Can I kiss you?”
Allison’s breath caught, her lips parting and his anticipation increased tenfold.
“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes closing as she tilted her head toward his.
He met his lips with hers in a deep, hungry kiss, the intensity of it sending a jolt of heat down his spine. Mouths moving in tandem, tongues stroking each other, breaths puffing in each other’s mouths. In a desperate move, he pulled her off her seat and onto his lap, balancing both of them on the barstool with a hope the busy bartender wouldn’t notice.
Angelo was burning from the inside out. He was lost in her, completely consumed by the taste of her lips, the scent of her skin, the feel of her body pressed so tightly against his. Every rational thought melted away, leaving only the raw, primal need to be closer, to feel more. His hands roamed over her back, pulling her impossibly closer, as if trying to fuse their bodies into one.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as if afraid to let go, as if this moment would slip through her fingers like a dream. The world around him faded, the only thing that mattered was the way they fit together, the way their hearts pounded in unison, a wild rhythm that matched the urgency of their kiss.
Angelo’s pulse raced, his entire being thrumming with a need that was almost painful. He broke the kiss just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. His voice was rough, barely a whisper. “I can’t get enough of you…”
His lips found hers again, slower this time, savoring the connection, but no less intense. The kiss deepened, and with it, the need that clawed at his insides. Angelo knew he was teetering on the edge of something unstoppable, something that would change everything. But right now, in this moment, nothing else mattered. All he wanted was her.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads stayed rest together, breaths mingling as they panted softly.
He reluctantly moved away, only to ask, “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Yeah,” she said, appearing to be in a trance as she moved back, her gaze tracing a line from his eyes to lustfully admire his lips.
He made quick work of their check, in too much of a hurry to get this woman all to himself to care that they’d both drank too much to be making any kind of decisions.
The walk to his hotel was a blur of stolen glances and electric touches, the anticipation building with every step. They got into the elevator, the small space amplifying the energy between them as Angelo placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her. As he pressed the button and the doors closed, he used that hand to pull her towards him, turning and pushing her against the wall.
His lips descended on hers in a searing kiss, his hands roaming her body as he pulled her even closer still, needing to touch her, to feel her everywhere. Stroke her silky skin, squeeze her lush thighs and hold her soft breasts. Allison’s hands traveled up his chest, tangling in his hair and her touch left flames in its path.
The elevator hummed softly as it ascended, but Angelo barely noticed. The heat between them was the only thing he was aware of, the way her body responded to his touch, the way her breath hitched when his hands explored her curves. He was intoxicated by her, driven by a primal urge that obliterated all sense of restraint.
Allison moaned into his mouth, her fingers tightening in his hair as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Her body arched against his, a soft, involuntary movement that sent a surge of desire through him. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, matching the frantic beat of his own.
His lips left hers, trailing a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. He could feel her pulse racing under his lips, and the soft gasp that escaped her only fueled his need. His hands slid down to her hips, gripping them firmly as he pressed her harder against the wall. Every inch of him ached to have her, to lose himself in the warmth and softness of her body.
“Allison,” he breathed against her skin, his voice husky with desire. She shivered in his arms, igniting something deep within him in response. She tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers, to erase the distance between them.
He was burning with need, with desire, burning, burning, burning —
The elevator ding broke them apart— curse you fucking machine —and they looked at each other, startled, still holding onto one another. Angelo took note of Allison’s flushed cheeks and heaving chest, licking his lips in anticipation. He reluctantly pulled back, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he stared down at her, his eyes dark with hunger. But the fire in his gaze promised that this was far from over.
Without a word, he reached out and took her hand, leading her out of the elevator and down the hallway. His grip was firm, possessive, as if he couldn’t bear to let go of her for even a second.
The door to his hotel room loomed ahead, and with a flick of his wrist, he unlocked it, pulling her inside with him.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, the tension snapped like a live wire. Angelo’s lips crashed into hers again, and this time there was nothing to stop them, nothing to hold them back. The world outside disappeared, leaving only the two of them, lost in the consuming heat of their desire.
“You have no idea how much I want you,” he murmured against her mouth, his hands itching to feel the warmth of her skin.
Allison’s breath hitched, her fingers once again in his hair, pulling slightly at the roots and Angelo moaned.
“Show me,” she whispered, her voice filled with longing.
I plan to.