Chapter 12
NICOLETTE
He’s beating eggs shirtless. While I’m staring into my mug filled with coffee, glancing up at him all nonchalantly, pretending I’m not shamelessly checking him out.
My God, look at me, practically salivating like a teenager. Teenage me was definitely salivating all the time. And I do mean all the time.
Raph shirtless in front of a stove, with gray sweats hung low on his hips, is a stuff of dreams. Teenage me would obsess at this sight. Adult me isn’t faring any better, either.
He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and the vein in his mountainous bicep twitches. Do women require cold showers? Because I may need one right about now.
I also think I smell a little like his aftershave.
Did I sleepwalk into his bed after the car ride or did some of it rub off on me when he carried me in?
I honestly don’t remember anything after I fell asleep.
All I know is I woke up extremely well-rested this morning.
I feel brand new. I can’t believe the drive actually worked.
“Do you want to help me?” he asks from over his shoulder, his lips curling on one side. “Or are you planning on checking out my ass the entire time?”
Okay. So he noticed. No big deal.
My cheeks heat up. “Umm…” I shove the rim of the mug into my mouth and take a huge gulp to give myself time to come up with a decent reply. “I was so not checking out your ass.”
He lifts a brow with a heart-warming smirk.
“But I was definitely checking out your hair,” I lie, and I can tell by his amused expression, he can see right through me. “I mean, how many products do you use to get it to stay that perfectly still?”
“That’s okay, little one, you can check out my ass any time you want.”
I feel my cheeks physically heat up, and he only chuckles.
“So, you gonna help me like old times or what?”
My chest grows warm. This is how it was between us. We’d crack jokes and have fun. Cook together all the time at my house. He’d come over after school when my parents were gone and my sister was busy at work, and he’d cook me food and teach me how.
It was that or I figured out what to eat when there were no leftovers. My mom didn’t always have time to cook meals with her work schedule, so Raph would step in and make our dinners for us. No one asked him. He volunteered to help out. That’s the type of person he is.
You’d think a man who does what he does would be hard and uncaring, but he was the opposite. He was always the one there for everyone else.
“Not sure if that’s a good idea,” I say, grimacing, remembering what happened the very last time I did in fact help.
“Why?” He faces me full on this time, leaning back against the counter, folding his arms over his bulky chest. His mouth jerks. “Afraid you’ll drop the bowl again?”
Of course he remembers my very humiliating moment. It was a month before I kissed him, and I really hoped he had forgotten all about it.
“That was one time.” I pin my eyes closed for a moment, fighting a smile.
“Yeah, and who had to clean that mess?” His tongue swipes across his bottom lip when I peer back up, and it’s the sexiest thing.
“Um, hi, I helped too, remember?”
His gaze bounces from my eyes and down to my chest, and for a quick second, his jovial expression turns brooding.
My cheeks heat up. Does he notice how hard my nipples are? Oh, crap. He must.
His hand flexes across the top of his bicep, his jaw hollowing with a strain. But then like a switch, a smile returns to his face and his eyes hold mine again.
“Yeah, you helped, alright.” He chuckles. “If you consider throwing a bunch of napkins down on all those eggs you dropped as cleaning.”
“I tried.” I pinch my lips tight and let out a small laugh.
“Such a clumsy little thing.” His tone grows husky.
His gaze roves down my entire body, and I inhale sharply, feeling suddenly bare. Chills spread down both of my arms, and my nipples tighten under his perusal. My skin prickles with awareness, as though his hands are there, touching where his eyes had just been.
Discreetly, I squeeze my inner thighs, attempting to quench the aching need now coursing down to my toes. The molten look in his eyes stays there as he drags in a long inhale, his gaze hooded.
“Come on, now, little one,” he drawls. “Get your pretty ass up here and help me. Unless you forgot everything I taught you.”
I swear, this is like foreplay. Or at least my body thinks so. His husky voice, the way he keeps looking at me… It’s like he’s inviting me into his bed, and the man would never have to ask me twice.
I slowly rise to my feet, trying to shake off this tingling that’s currently occupying my whole body.
Okay. I can do this. I can act all casual.
I place my mug down and clear my throat, approaching him.
He sidesteps, allowing me access to the counter, and lets me take over whisking the eggs.
Casually, he comes to stand behind me, and I become hyper-aware of his proximity. His rough, calloused hands greet my arms, slowly riding up until heavy palms land over my shoulders.
“You’re doing much better this time,” he whispers against the crook of my neck, his breaths brushing up my throat.
I hold air in my lungs, my stomach swirling.
What’s happening right now?
“Come on, now, keep mixing.”
Did I stop?
I go faster, even as he reaches over and picks up a cup full of diced tomatoes and tosses them into the bowl.
The sound of the mixer does nothing to drown out the low groaning sounds coming from deep in his chest.
His hand slides down to my upper leg, fingers deepening into my inner thigh, and behind me he’s hard and thick.
He wants me. I can feel how badly he does.
I arch my ass into him, and he hisses up against my ear, his fingertips biting into my flesh as they greedily climb higher, almost at the spot where I’m wet and craving him. My pulse pounds like a steady beat of drums in my ears.
His lips lower to my earlobe.
“You’re incredibly beautiful, tesoro mio,” he says gruffly, fingers slowly rising, inching closer to my bikini line.
And when they rub me there, I let out a moan, tossing my head back against his chest, dropping the mixer with a loud bang.
Shit.
The bowl starts to slip off the counter.
He reaches for it just in time.
“Oh my God…” I whisper, turning from the counter. My face heats up. I’m mortified.
“God damn it, woman.” His deep laughter swells through the room and right into my heart. “That’s two times now. Lucky I caught it this time.” He pushes away from me.
My teeth sink into my lower lip when I find his erect cock practically pointing in my direction. Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I glance back up at him, my heartbeats firing out of me in an upsurge.
His face turns wildly intense as he takes a single step forward until my body’s pinned between him and the counter behind me. A finger hooks into my lip and he releases it from my teeth.
“Don’t do that.” His deep-chested rasp has my insides flipping. “Don’t bite your lip like that.”
“Why not?” I breathe, holding his animalistic gaze. “Why not, Raph?”
There I go, calling him that name again. The one I used to use with ease. I let it slip on purpose because right now, he feels like the old Raph.
His chest expands with a long, shallow breath, his eyes pinned to mine as both hands come to cradle my face within them. His brows furrow, and emotions—unspeakable, terribly beautiful emotions—riddle his features.
“Kiss me…” I say without realizing I did. “Kiss me…just once.”
I beg and plead and hope. I wrap my hand around his forearm and squeeze.
He seals his eyes shut, then stares up at the ceiling for long seconds that tell me what I already know.
I thrust past him, roughly shouldering him aside, and storm off toward the bedroom.
He’s not going to give in, and I’m sick of waiting for him to fall.
RAPH
I follow her against my better judgment, knowing I was this close to throwing her right on top of that counter and stripping off every bit of her clothes.
Nicolette is my greatest test and my ultimate weakness. She brings me to my knees without even knowing she holds the power.
“Get away from me, Raphael!” she shouts, her body seeping with rage. “Just get out! I’m over this hot-and-cold game you’re playing.” She throws both hands in the air. “If you won’t even kiss me, then stay the hell away.”
She was attempting to sound brave but the crack in her voice gives her away.
“I don’t want your arms, your body, the way you look at me…I don’t want any of it. It isn’t fair.” She exhales a rough sigh. “Just leave me alone.”
She’s right about all of it. I’m not being fair, and I know that. I just can’t seem to stop. And I do try. But once she’s close to me, all I can do is touch her. It’s as though she’s built into my DNA. My very being. And it fucking kills me that I can’t have her.
Her chest swings rapidly, her eyes broken and bruised. And I’m the asshole who caused it.
“I don’t mean to hurt you,” I profess, shattering right along with her like I’m being punched in the heart.
“But you are.” Her lips tremble and her brows gather tightly. “You’re never going to see me. Not the way you saw her. Not the way you loved her. And I have to accept that.”
I never loved her.
“But she never loved you, Raph. Not the way I could if you ever opened your eyes and saw me. Really saw me.”
I see you. I’ve seen you for so long it hurts.
“When are you going to finally see that maybe I’m the one you should be with?” she cries, tears drawing down her cheeks.
I do see that, but it’s wrong to want you the way I do. Fuck, baby. You have no idea.
“When will you finally realize that I can make you happy?” she asks, staring sadly.
You already make me happy. All the time. Even when you’re not here to do it.
“When will you finally stop denying that I could be the one for you?” She swipes under her eyes with the back of her finger.
You are the one for me. Always will be. There’ll be no one else as long as I live.
“Fine! Stay there and say nothing!” Her infuriated words hurl out with a sniffle. “I’m so done.”
I clench my jaw. “You were seventeen.”
My body stiffens remembering her full lips on mine that very day.
She snickers. “Would it have even mattered if I was older?” Her features twist with raw emotion. “Would it have changed a single thing?”
I pause for a moment as her glistening eyes singe into mine, waiting for an ounce of truth, and I finally give it to her.
“Yes. It would’ve changed everything.”
Her eyes fill with renewed tears as they flicker shut, and slowly, she shakes her head. And when she looks at me again, her expression hardens.
“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?” Her smile is bitter, rotting through my soul. “Because I’m done. I’m over you, Raphael Marino. Truly. Completely. Unequivocally over you.” Her chin rises, as though she really needs to get that point across.
My heart races as I gaze down at those rosy cheeks, her skin naturally kissed by the sun. Absolute perfection from her head to her toes.
And it’s here in this moment, I truly realize I’m in love with her. Truly. Completely. Unequivocally in love. And there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it.
She attempts to brush past me, but my hand slices through the air and grabs her wrist, yanking her hard into my waiting body.
I ignore that voice in my head telling me to stop and tug her closer with a sweep of my arm around the small of her back.
I drop her wrist, and with a tilt of a finger, I tug up her chin, meeting the vulnerability seeping in her hooded gaze. “Don’t you dare walk away from me.”
She practically melts.
Warm.
Soft.
Begging to be mine.
Our breaths. The silence in between them. That’s all I hear as my eyes land on her lips. She parts them as though on instinct, as though they’re asking me to taste them, so we can end this torture once and for all.
I drop my face closer to them, unable to take my eyes off her. My tongue darts out for a quick lick across her lips, daring both my body and my heart.
She lets a tiny little moan slip out, begging with those eyes to give her all of me. My heart echoes with deafening beats as I bore my gaze deeper into hers.
“Raph…please,” she chokes out.
But in that instant, I see his face and I hear his laughter.
You’re no better than me, my father mocks. She’s going to die too. You’ll have nothing.
My teeth clench and I pitch back, dropping both hands off her.
“There it is. That regret.” She releases a pained laugh. “I knew it was coming.”
“Nicolette…I’m sorry.” I palm the back of my neck and squeeze it until it hurts.
“Aren’t you sick of apologizing?” She gives me an empty stare. “It’s not wrong, Raph. We’re not wrong.”
Yes, we are. We’re wrong in every damn way.
Tears swell in her eyes, and my heart slices in two. My hands itch to touch her, to hold her again. But I stand where I am and let those tears track down her cheeks without doing a damn thing about it.