by J. E. Parker
It was the first time he’d been so close. I mean, he’d given me a foot massage, but that was different. At least, to me it was. “Anthony”—his name left my lips in a whisper—“what are you doing?”
His face crept closer to mine, and my lungs froze.
For what felt like the millionth time that week, I couldn’t breathe.
Absolutely. Could. Not. Fricken. Breathe!
“To answer your first question, I did it because I wanted to. You may not believe me, but I have every intention of taking care of you and Lucca both. That includes providing for you whether it be food, clothes, toys…”
He was crazy.
Crazy with a capital C!
Anthony exhaled, and his breath ghosted over my face and neck causing chill bumps to erupt along every inch of my skin. My eyes slid closed at the sensation combined with the words he was speaking. “As for what I’m doing right now, sunshine, I’m trying really damn hard not to kiss you.”
My stomach knotted, and a plethora of emotions rushed through me.
I had no business—absolutely no business—developing feelings for a man that I barely knew, but, damn it, at that moment I wanted to tear down every wall I’d erected around my heart and allow myself to get to know Anthony Moretti—heart, body, mind, and soul. The thought was a dangerous one, but he made me want to act on impulse, throw caution to the wind, and break every rule I’d set for myself regarding men.
He invoked emotions in me that I’d never felt before and I wasn’t sure if I liked it or hated it.
Anthony’s face suddenly dipped closer to mine, and my breath hitched in my chest. Half of me panicked at the thought that he was about to kiss me while the other, more dominant, half screamed for me to pull him closer and beg him to take what he wanted. The burning desire strumming beneath my heated flesh needed to know what it felt like to have his lips pressed against mine, to have his tongue plunge deep into my mouth.
I needed him to take me, to consume me.
I shuddered at the thoughts running through my head.
Wrapping my fingers around his biceps, I inhaled.
My eyes fluttered open to find him staring down at me with an intensity I’d never experienced before.
I could get lost in those beautiful eyes.
When his arm tightened around me further, I told myself that I needed to back off; that I needed to put some space between us. My brain and body, however, were not in sync with one another.
Screw it. What’s one kiss going to hurt?
“Anthony”—I whispered his name, gripping his arms harder—“you keep talking about kissing me, sugar, but you haven’t done it yet.” I licked my lower lip and moved closer to him. “I’m starting to believe you may be all talk. Why you—”
In the blink of an eye his lips crashed down on mine, and my world went up in flames. Pleasure like I’d never experienced before zinged through every cell in my body and my heart leaped into my throat.
Anthony’s hands slid into the back pocket of my shorts and curved around the swell of my butt. I gasped at the contact and Anthony took full advantage. Wrenching me closer, he delved his tongue into my waiting mouth.
It was a first for me.
I’d been kissed before but not like this.
Removing my hands from his arms, I slid them into his hair and grasped at the silky strands with shaky fingers. Anthony growled into my mouth and pleasure ripped through me.
Oh God, I thought. How can a simple kiss feel this good?
Pushing to my tiptoes, I pressed against him harder, needing to get closer.
I was just about to remove my hands from his hair and wrap my arms around his neck when he suddenly ripped his mouth free of mine and cursed loudly, startling me. “Fuck!” he bellowed before falling into me.
Still standing on the tips of my toes, I didn’t have time to right myself before I tumbled to the hardwood floor, landing on my back with a jarring thud. Anthony tried to catch me, but he wasn’t fast enough. On impact, my hand flew to the hem of my shirt, making sure it stayed in place, covering my stomach and sides. If he glimpsed the scars lining my torso he’d ask questions I wasn’t prepared to answer.
“Damn it,” he cursed again as he dropped to his left knee by my side. “You alright?”
Sucking in enough oxygen to replace the air that had been knocked out of my lungs, I nodded in reply. I’d been in plenty of fights and taken enough beatings over my lifetime to know that nothing was broken or cracked. I may have a bruise the size of North America on my back come morning, but I’d be fine.
“I’m,” I gasped, still trying to swallow more air, “okay.” I grimaced as I pushed to my elbows. “What the hell was that?” Narrowing my eyes, I glared at Anthony with malice. “You could’ve killed me!”
Just then I heard the sweetest little giggle ever.
Sweet my butt … more like devious.
I recognized it immediately.
Eyes wide, I peeked around Anthony and pointed to Lucca and the yellow plastic bat he held clutched in his toddler-sized hands. “Tell me he didn’t hit you with that.”
Anthony’s face was impassive as he glanced over his shoulder at a beaming Lucca.
For a moment, I panicked thinking he was about to be a dick to my baby. It didn’t matter if I liked him or not, if he said something cruel to my son I’d rip his head off his shoulders and kick it around like a soccer ball.
“Yeah.” A bright smile broke out across Anthony’s face. “Nailed me on the side of my knee. Kid's got a hell of a swing.” His voice was strained, and his cheeks were tinged red.
I almost laughed.
After standing up, Anthony bent over, slid his hands under my arms and lifted me off the ground like I was light as a feather, which let’s face it, wasn’t the case at all. I’d always been tiny, but after having Lucca, I seemed to gain weight at the drop of a hat. It didn’t bother me though. I’d come to accept—and love—my curves.
My entire body ached as I straightened my spine and stood tall. “Thanks.”
I stepped around Anthony to face Lucca. “Little man…” My voice was stern as I gently pulled the bat from his hands. “We do not hit our friends.” I pointed at Anthony who was standing close—too damn close—behind me. “And Anthony is our friend. Got it?”
Lucca lifted his little chin in the air. “No.”
Uh oh.
Confused, I furrowed my brows. “What do you mean no? I thought you liked Anthony?” God knows he’d played with him enough the night before. “What did he do to get you so upset?”
Looking over my shoulder at Anthony, I asked him, “What did you do?”
He wore a sly grin on his face as he peered down at Lucca. “I think he’s mad that I kissed you.”
He couldn’t be.
He was just a baby. There was no way he’d understand…
Anthony stepped around me and squatted down, close to being eye level with Lucca. “Hey, buddy.” Lucca’s lips twisted into a pout, and he crossed his arms over his chest. He looked a little upset. And by a little, I mean a lot. “Are you upset with me?” Lucca remained silent. He didn’t speak, didn’t babble. “Your mama and I—”
Lucca moved around Anthony and wrapped his arms around my leg. “My ma-ma!” he shouted before pressing his face against my thigh and squeezing me tighter.
Well, there was our answer. “Little man—”
“Don’t, sunshine,” Anthony interrupted as he stood back up. “He needs to get used to seeing us together.”
“Tony…” My voice trailed off as I ran the back of my hand across my forehead. “What just happened—it can’t happen again.” A bolt of pain sliced through my heart at the thought.
Push him back.
Keep him at a distance.
Don’t let him get too close.
“I mean, kissing you was great, but—”
Before I had a chance to blink, Anthony’s hands shot toward me. To my dismay, I instinctually flinched in anticipa
tion of him hitting me.
The blow never came.
Instead, he gently cupped both sides of my jaw in his palms and leaned in close. “You finish that sentence, and I swear to Christ I will take you over my knee the first chance I get.”
My mouth dropped open. “Care to repeat that?”
Anthony’s eyes hardened, and he inched closer. “You heard me. I may take a lot of your sass, baby, but the moment you try to keep those sweet lips from me, I will turn you over my knee and spank your ass red. You understand me?”
The man was crazier than an outhouse rat.
I jerked my face out of his hands. Squaring my shoulders, I looked him dead in the eyes, and replied, “Like hell you will. My body belongs to me, Anthony—not you. Therefore, if I don’t want you to kiss or touch me, you won’t. And if for some screwed up reason you get the notion that it’s okay to do either of those things without my permission, well, sugar—” I reached down and scooped Lucca up into my arms. Settling him on my hip, I pressed his right ear against my shoulder and covered the other with my hand “—that’s when you’ll find out exactly how dark and twisted my mind can get.”
A cocky smile spread across his face.
That damn smile is going to be the death of me.
With a slight shake of his head, he pointed behind me. “Get your ass in the kitchen, sunshine. Dinner is waiting, and I know you’re probably hungry.”
Never one to say no to food, I turned on my heel and moved.
I’ll deal with his domineering ass later.
16
Shelby
Our second supper with Anthony had been eventful.
Well, more like a complete and utter disaster.
Between Lucca breaking one of Anthony’s brand new lamps and Anthony almost setting fire to the kitchen when he decided to re-heat the fried chicken Grandmama had whipped up for us, my poor little heart was pounding away.
“Well,” I said, staring at the blackened oven with wide eyes, “thank heavens for fire extinguishers because I sure didn’t want to run across the street to get Keith.”
Lord knows if I did, Grandmama, Maddie, and the behemoth would all follow him over here. That’s the last thing I want.
Anthony scowled at me. “It wasn’t my fault!”
Oh, but it was.
“Anthony, sugar, I know you don’t cook daily, but common sense should tell you that putting paper towels in the oven isn’t a good idea.” A cocky smirk spread across my face. “And here I thought you were a smart cookie.” I made a tsk’ing sound. “Turns out I was wrong.”
He slammed the oven door shut and turned to face me. “You keep running that smart mouth of yours and—”
“You’ll what?” I interrupted, lifting my chin in the air. “If you say you’re going to spank me I’ll be forced to remind you of the conversation we had earlier.” My eyes narrowed. “And if you threaten to handcuff me again, I may shove you in the damn oven.”
He hung a lopsided grin on his face before crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah? What if I threaten to do both? One right after the other?”
I scrunched up my nose in mock disgust to hide the smile that threatened to split my face in half. “You’re a pervy bastard. You know that?”
He sat the fire extinguisher he held in his hand on the kitchen island. “Only when it comes to you.”
I gasped and clutched my chest dramatically. Batting my eyelashes, I looked at the ceiling and whispered, “Did you hear that, sweet baby Jesus? He’s only a perv when it comes to me. I feel so dang special, I’m not sure I can contain it.”
It was Anthony’s turn to narrow his eyes. “Listen, sass mouth—”
Carrying crayons in both hands, Lucca barreled into the kitchen, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Ma-ma!” He shouted loud enough to wake the dead. “U-ka eat!”
I swear the boy had two noise levels—silent and eardrum bursting loud.
Anthony scooped my little man up into his arms. Apparently, Lucca had forgiven him for kissing me earlier. “Dude, we’ve got a bit of a problem.” Anthony glanced at me, and I thinned my lips to keep from laughing. “It appears as though I have fuc—” he caught himself before dropping the F-bomb, “fudged up.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” I muttered under my breath.
“Cuffs, sunshine,” he whispered in return. “Keep it up, and you’ll be wearing them.”
Like hell I will.
Lucca looked my way. “Ma-ma,” he huffed, clearly frustrated, “U-ka eat.”
“Okay,” I said, looking around the kitchen. “We’ve got to figure something out. I’m starving, Lucca’s starving.” Anthony’s countertops were bare, and I didn’t hold much hope for his fridge or pantry. “Do you have anything stowed away? I can make a meal out of whatever you have on hand.”
Anthony looked at me like I was crazy. “Baby, did you not hear me say I don’t cook?” I rolled my eyes. “I’m never here. Only thing I’ve got on hand is protein powder and frozen broccoli.”
Gross.
“Okay, well, what if I order us pizza? Mario’s delivers to this side of town. I’ve only eaten there once, but their food is decent.”
“How about I take you and Lucca out for dinner?” He suggested, placing one arm on the counter and holding Lucca with the other. “Guys at the station insist that little Mexican restaurant on Main Street is supposed to be good.” He looked down at Lucca who was playing with the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Will my little dude eat Mexican?”
“Lucca will eat anything that isn’t glued to the floor.” It wasn’t a lie. “He isn’t the least bit picky. Hell, Hope got him to eat Tofu. What’s that tell you?”
Anthony’s face paled. “Tofu? Really, piccolo principe?” A shudder ran through him. “Me and you need to talk about food, bro.”
I snorted. “Mexican is fine. Long as you don’t mind being seen with lil ol’ me.” I batted my eyelashes again. “People might start talking once they see you hanging around with the town priss, though, so don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”
Anthony scowled again. “Anybody calls you that in front of me, I’ll be the one getting cuffed.” His voice was deep; his tone gravely. “I can’t believe someone would say that shit about you. You’re one of the sweetest fuc—,” he paused, “fudging women I’ve ever met.”
He thinks I’m sweet?
“It’s because I don’t date. I’ve had plenty of offers,” my eyes dipped to the kitchen island, “but I’ve never accepted any of them.”
“Why?”
I fidgeted and shifted my weight from one foot to the next. “Haven’t wanted to.”
Not until you.
“I have no desire to date. My only priorities are working, finishing school and taking care of my son.” I gave a half shrug, trying my best to appear nonchalant. “Not to mention, I haven’t had the best of luck with men.”
Anthony’s face hardened. “Yeah,” he replied softly, “ you and me, we’re going to have a little chat about that later.”
Not happening, stud muffin.
“Just as soon as we get the chance, Shelby, you’re going to lay it all out for me.”
I forced my spine to straighten. “There isn’t anything to talk about, Tony.”
His eyes never wavered from mine. “We’ll see.”
Wanting to change the subject, I leaned forward and placed my elbows on the island. Anthony’s eyes dipped to the neckline of my tank top.
I smirked.
Such a dirty bastard.
After peeking at Lucca to make sure he wasn’t looking at me, I hooked my index finger in the neck of my shirt and pulled it down a couple of inches, flashing Anthony the top half of my boobs. Cocking my head to the side, I whispered, “Since you like to stare so much, I thought you might want a better look.”
He inhaled harshly.
I released my shirt and stood straight. “So,” I said, pretending that nothing had happened, “are you driving, or am I?”
Anthony’s
eyes crashed into mine, and I sucked in a breath. “You’re playing with fire.”
Feeling bold, I shrugged, and replied, “What can I say? I like living on the edge.” I grabbed my keys off the counter, took Lucca from his arms, and walked into the living room. After scooping up Lucca’s diaper bag from the sofa, I headed for the front door. “Come on, Tony.” I pulled open the door and stepped out. “We don’t have all damn day.”
“I’m coming,” he barked right back. I looked over my shoulder just in time to see him adjusting himself in his pants. I smiled when he caught me looking. “See what you did?” He shook his head and pulled his keys out of his pocket. “This,” he pointed at the tent in the front of his slacks, “is all your damn fault.”
I blew him a kiss. “Better get used to it, sugar, because it won’t be the last time.” Giving him a parting wink, I headed for the driveway. Feeling his eyes glued to my retreating back, I exaggerated the natural sway of my hips with each step I took.
Behind me, Anthony groaned.
“Killing me, baby. You’re absolutely killing me.”
Good, I thought. Because you’re killing me too.
17
Shelby
Standing in front of the shelter’s industrial-sized kitchen sink, I had my hands and wrists submerged in hot, soapy water. I’d been keeping myself busy since I’d first clocked in hours earlier in an attempt to keep my mind from obsessing over Anthony. I’d done laundry, mopped the entire first floor, helped cook breakfast, completed inventory, and scrubbed all the bathrooms from top to bottom.
Yet, all I could think of was him.
His face. His voice. The way his lips felt pressed against mine.
To my ire, the man consumed my every thought.
I didn’t know how he’d done it, but he’d managed to worm his way into my head. If I wasn’t careful, he’d find his way into my heart too—if he hadn’t already—and that was something I couldn’t allow to happen.
I liked Anthony—really liked him—but I could never allow myself to love him.
If I did, it would sure as hell end in catastrophe.
