Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Then Dario shifted slightly, creating the barest space between us, a final chance for reason to prevail. "It's getting late," he said, though he made no move to step away. "Your shift starts in a couple of hours. Go to Mr. Wilson and tell him you need a place to sleep off the tasting. He’s used to it and we have a room you can lock and rest in peace.”
It was the perfect opportunity to retreat, to return to the safety of professional boundaries. Instead, I did something I'd never imagined myself capable of. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.
For one terrible moment, he froze, and I thought I'd catastrophically misread the situation. Then his arms wrapped around me, pulling me against him with a hunger that matched the sudden, desperate need flooding through me. His lips moved against mine, no longer tentative but demanding, claiming. I gasped against his mouth, the sound swallowed by our kiss. I’d do my best to blame it on the alcohol later, but I wanted this. Wanted the sensation. Couldn’t get enough.
I gripped the fabric of his suit jacket, clinging to him. Dario swept his hands up my back until he tangled his fingers in my hair.
He backed me against the bar, the edge pressing into my lower back, his body a solid wall of heat against mine. The position brought him into intimate contact with me. His chest mashed pleasantly against my breasts, his thigh slipped between my legs in a way that made me whimper. Between us, mashed against my belly, his cock was hardening rapidly, pulsing as he urged me to move on his thigh as he continued to kiss me.
"Belle?" he murmured against my lips, my name a question and a confirmation all at once.
I answered by opening my mouth wider, letting him slide his tongue against mine. He roamed his hands up and down my back with increasingly bold strokes before tracing the curve of my waist, the flare of my hip, moving upward to graze the side of my breast through my dress.
The contact sent a jolt of electric pleasure through me. I arched into his touch, my body making decisions my mind was too clouded to process. One of his hands found the hem of my dress and he skated his fingers along my thigh, leaving trails of fire in their wake. The other cradled my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone with unexpected tenderness.
The contrast of his gentle touches mixed with urgent passion was my undoing. It made this more than just a physical encounter, more than just an alcohol fueled lust. It made it dangerous in ways I hadn't anticipated.
Reality crashed into me like cold water. I pulled stiffened, my breath coming in shallow pants. Dario’s groan sounded frustrated but resigned. He ended the kiss slowly and placed his forehead against mine for several heartbeats before letting me push him away, but only slightly.
When I looked up at him, Dario's gaze focused on me, dark with desire and confusion at my abrupt withdrawal. "I shouldn't have… I mean, I… we… can’t…" I stammered, my voice unsteady. I pressed my palms against his chest, creating space between us though every cell in my body protested the separation.
Dario didn't immediately release me. His hands remained at my waist, his expression a complex mixture of desire, surprise, and something that looked almost like vulnerability. "Belle," he said again, my name carrying a weight I wasn't prepared to interpret.
"I’m so sorry," I whispered, though the words felt like a lie even as I spoke them. "I work for you. This is—it's inappropriate."
I bent to retrieve my notebook, which had somehow been knocked off the bar. I used the movement to step out of his embrace completely. My hands trembled and my cheeks burned with a combination of desire and embarrassment. What had I been thinking? I’d just complicated a job I desperately needed.
When I straightened, Dario was watching me with unusual intensity, his composure visibly shaken, which shocked me. His hair was mussed where my fingers had run through it, his tie slightly askew. I'd done that, I realized with a mixture of pride and no small amount of horror.
"I should go," I said. "My shift starts soon and I need to, um, I should change into my uniform."
The words sounded hollow, inadequate excuses for my hasty retreat. But what could I say? That I was terrified not by what we'd done but by how much I wanted to continue? That the warnings from Valentina, from Ricky, from Mr. Longmire were echoing in my head, reminding me staff should never get too close to the owner?
Dario made no move to stop me as I backed toward the door. But his gaze never left mine, and the intensity of his stare felt like a physical touch. "This isn't finished, Belle," he said quietly.