Chapter 23 #2
“We actually did it.”
“You did it.”
“We did it. We make a pretty good team.”
I smiled and nodded. “We still do.”
“I’ll get the wine glasses.”
Leila disappeared into the kitchen and returned seconds later with a glass of wine. I took the bottle from her, filled her glass, then mine, and set it down on the table.
She raised her glass slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “To shoving Gabe’s tongue back in his mouth.”
I chuckled. “To shoving Gabe’s tongue back in his mouth.”
Our glasses clinked, and we both took a generous swig. Watching her like this—smiling, relaxed, letting herself feel—filled me with a rare kind of contentment.
My wolf stirred again, restless beneath my skin, urging me to close the space between us. To touch her. Hold her.
Her gaze locked on mine, and the smile on her lips faded, replaced by something heavier.
Want. The kind that made the air feel too thick to breathe.
We held each other’s eyes in silence, a long stretch of it.
I watched the shift in hers—the darkening, the heat building.
My gaze dropped, and I saw the way her nipples strained against the thin fabric of her nightdress. My cock hardened instantly.
She followed my gaze, then swallowed hard.
“I should, um…I should get back to packing,” she said, already turning. But I caught her wrist. Gently. But firmly.
“Leila, wait.” I pulled her toward me until barely an inch remained between us.
“Luca…” she exhaled, like my name knocked the breath out of her.
“Can you feel it?” I guided her hand firmly to my chest, placing it right over my heart.
“Can you feel my wolf? This is what you do to it—every damn time you’re near me.
Hell, even when I just think about you.” My voice dropped, rough with emotion.
“And fuck, Leila…I think about you so much, it could be considered unhealthy.”
Her hand trembled against my chest as she looked up at me, wide-eyed. I stepped closer, closing what little space remained between us, until her body brushed against mine—until she could feel the hard bulge pressing through my pants.
“That,” I rasped, “is what you’ve been doing to me. All fucking week. Working with you has been torture. I thought if I kept reminding myself of the past, it’d kill this feeling. That I’d stop wanting you like this. Needing you.”
I blew out a breath. “But it hasn’t. Not even close. And it wrecks me, Leila. Every time you keep me at arm’s length. Every time I see you across the room and can’t touch you. Can’t hold you.”
Her expression softened. The hardness she’d worn for so long cracked open, and I saw it—the woman from five years ago. The one who used to look at me like I was her entire world.
God, I missed this. I missed her.
“It’s complicated, Luca,” she whispered. “You know it is.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” I said, my voice low and urgent. “We both want the same thing.”
“But I can’t just forget. I can’t pretend the past didn’t happen…” Her voice faltered, and she sighed. “This is killing me, too, Luca.”
“Then stop.” The words came out in a whisper. I leaned in until our foreheads touched, her breath hot against my skin. “Stop building walls between us.”
My hands slid down to her waist, gripping her gently. Stop denying what you feel. Stop living in the past. We can focus on now. We can be…us again.”
With my other hand, I brushed my thumb over her lips, and she trembled. I saw it then—the raw need burning in her eyes, mirrored in my own. I wanted nothing more than to devour her, to drown in the blissful taste of her mouth.
But the last thing I wanted was to be something she regretted.
I held back, even as the tension screamed through my body. Even as my restraint frayed at the edges.
But then Leila rose onto her toes and pressed her lips to mine.
It was soft. Chaste. Barely even a kiss.
But the effect? It was like she’d lit a match to gasoline.
My already hard cock hardened even more, straining against my pants. Every muscle in my body locked tight, aching with the effort it took to stay in control.
“I didn’t peg you for an overthinker, Luca,” she said softly, a small chuckle escaping her lips. But I heard the nerves beneath it, saw the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes when she took in my gaze—my expression.
My grip around her waist tightened. “I’m not going to be able to stop myself, Leila.”
“I don’t want you to.”
That was it.
That was all it took.
I palmed her cheeks and crashed my lips onto hers. She gasped when I yanked her into me and deepened the kiss. My hands fisted in her hair and tugged, forcing her back to arch while I plundered her mouth.
God, Leila tasted like heaven. I could do this all day—drown in the taste of her—because it was bliss.
When I dove my tongue deeper into her mouth, she let out a soft moan that shot through my body like wildfire.
I was ravenous, desperate to rip that fucking nightdress off her.
But I held back, no matter how much it burned.
I pressed my thick erection against her and she did the one thing that shattered my restraint.
She ground against it. Shameless. Desperate.
“Fuck, Leila,” I murmured against her lips. “Tell me to stop.”
Instead, her fingers slipped beneath the fabric of my shirt, gliding over my skin, tracing every hard line of muscle. I lifted her nightdress and palmed her bare ass. She wasn’t wearing any panties.
Heat shot through me, sharp and overwhelming.
And then—the worst fucking timing in the universe—my phone rang. The vibration buzzed loudly in the pocket of my slacks, slicing through the moment.
I didn’t break the kiss. I fumbled for the phone, meaning to hit reject. But somehow, I hit accept.
Charles’s familiar voice floated through the room. “Luca, I’ve got news.”
Usually, when he started like that, it was something important.
I placed the phone over my ear. “What is it?”
“The DNA test results are out. I forwarded them to your email already. But if you want to know—”
“What’s the status?” I cut in, my voice impatient.
There was a pause.
Then Charles said, “Positive. Ollie is your son.”