Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
I bristle, and Massimo notices. He plants his palm against the small of my back. A gesture that clearly says, I’ve got you.
Angelica looks at him through heavy lashes. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure to meet in person.”
“I’m afraid if we have, then I have forgotten,” Massimo says with a tight jaw.
She extends a hand for him to take, but he ignores it, leaving her hanging. Embarrassed, she quickly tucks her hair behind her ear.
“It’s good to see you, Bianca,” Jules says, looking awkward.
“We saw that dress at Bentley’s,” Lilah adds. “And we both mentioned how amazing it would look on you, didn’t we Jules.”
“Oh yes, we did. And we were right. You look stunning.”
I had wondered how I would feel when I finally saw my friends again. Would the wound be as fresh as it was that day in the restaurant when they so cruelly deserted me, or would I forgive them and pursue some kind of reconnection with them?
Surprisingly, I feel nothing. The truth is, looking at my friends in their designer gowns and five-hundred-dollar hairstyles with their fake smiles and insincere words, I no longer ache for their friendship. In fact, standing here, I wonder what the hell I ever had in common with them.
You were just like them once, says the little voice in my head.
And I’m sorry.
I really, really am.
Massimo takes my hand, and his grip is tight and possessive. “If you will excuse us, Bianca and I were just heading for the dance floor.”
He doesn’t say goodbye. He simply dismisses them and whisks me away.
“That was brutal,” I say, as we reach the dance floor, and he takes me in his arms once again. “Are they staring at us?”
“Like three birds on a wire.” He holds me close. “You feel okay?”
“That was satisfying to say the least. Angelica has a crush on you.”
“She does?”
“Yes, and it will kill her seeing you dance with me.”
His eyes fill with dark mischief. “Then this is really going to kill her.”
He takes my face in his hands and crushes his lips to mine. The world spins around and around until it’s gone, and it’s just Massimo and I on that dance floor, with his mouth on mine and his tongue exploring my mouth.
I forget to breathe. To stand. To exist. All I am aware of is the heat of the kiss and the desperate need for more of him coursing through my body.
His mouth is commanding, his lips sweet with champagne and lust and him. And it sparks a fire in me. A need so searing hot I start to wonder if you can come from kissing alone. And if it’s possible, then this man is the one to do it.
When he breaks off the kiss, I stare up at him absolutely kiss drunk.
“Is she still looking?” he asks.
“Who?”
“Angel, Angela, whatever the hell her name is.”
I don’t take my eyes off him to look. “I don’t care.”
A flush of warmth spreads through my body under Massimo’s hot gaze.
I think he’s going to kiss me again when his phone begins to vibrate in his jacket pocket. A look of dissatisfaction crosses his face.
“You’re not going to answer it?” I ask.
“No. I’m going to kiss you instead.”
He leans down and his lips brush mine and I melt into him. And again, the world and everything in it washes away.
Except his phone. It starts to vibrate again.
We both realize it must be important, and the kiss is abandoned.
“Answer it,” I say. “I’m going to freshen up in the ladies’ room.”
He is about to disagree but when he pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees the name on the screen, he nods. “I need to take this.”
I leave him to take his call and weave through the crowd of glamorous dresses and designer suits to make my way to the ladies’ restroom.
Inside, I check my reflection in the mirror, noting my flushed cheeks and the sparkle in my eyes. I think about Massimo’s kisses, and my stomach flutters.
I look at the slightly smeared lipstick, and my insides turn, remembering the feel of those soft but commanding lips ruining my lipstick.
“If you keep throwing yourself at him that way you’ll run out of lipstick by the end of the night,” comes a voice from behind me.
Angelica steps into view, and I watch her in the mirror as she throws daggers at me with her cold eyes.
I ignore her and keep fixing my lips.
“What, cat got your tongue? Or did Massimo swallow it when you were pawing him on the dance floor?”
Realizing she isn’t going to let up until she says what she came in here to say, I turn around and face her. “Jealous?”
“Jealous of you? Please.” She scoffs. “Tell me, how many times did you have to get on your knees and blow Massimo De Kysa so he’d buy you that dress?”