Temporary Fix | 18+

14

The kiss took over my night.

I wasn't able to focus on the rest of the guests or even the fact that we'd continued our night as if there wasn't a dead man somewhere in the building. The conversations all seemed to blur into each other because my brain was occupied. I couldn't focus on Cathy because, well, my brain was occupied.

The kiss only lasted a minute, but that single minute was on constant reply for the rest of my night. My lips wouldn't let me forget. They were burning from the reminder of the feeling of his lips against mine.

I groaned, angry at myself for acting like a child. It made it even worse that Niccolò seemed to have already forgotten about it.

He'd left the car first, caught up in some heated call and it proved even more I was not on the man's mind. I followed after him once the driver had opened my door and I entered the house we'd been staying in to see him on the couch.

He was stripping himself free of his watch and jacket and I couldn't help but watch the ease in which he removed the items. His rapid words turned Italian and I couldn't tear my eyes away as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. His chest was obscured from my view seeing as though he wore an undershirt.

Why?

My legs carried me over to him and I turned once I reached him grabbing my hair messily to indicate I needed him to grab my zipper.

His conversation never wavered, and he easily slipped the small zipper down my back before I felt him step away and heard as he fell back against the couch.

"Thanks." My voice was only a whisper as to not interrupt his call and when he continued talking not even sparing me a reply, I annoyingly walked off to change.

My choice of clothes were next to none. A ribbed tank top that rested right above my belly button and some cotton shorts I could only wear to sleep because they refused to stay out my ass. They somehow always became a second pair of underwear.

With my last makeup wipe rubbing against my eye, I moved to the kitchen to grab myself a drink. The fridge was stocked, no surprise, and I grabbed the pitcher with the fresh orange juice to fill my glass.

When I was done, I moved back to the couch where Niccolò was still seated with an expression that showed heavy annoyance.

"You're pissing me off. I don't need possibilities, I need facts. The next time you open your mouth, I pray for your sake you can tell me how the fuck he was there." His eyes dragged up my figure watching as I left the kitchen.

He patted the space beside him and the fact that my heart immediately started to race had me hesitating to go over.

His brows furrowed as he watched me and I realized it might've seemed like I was just staring. That got my legs moving.

The remote was thrown in my lap when my ass hit the couch and my curiosity piqued even more. Nevertheless I clicked the device on and went through my options of what movies to watch.

I saw the sequel for the movie I watched on the plane and decided to let it play lowly in the background. Niccolò wrapped up his conversation and threw his phone on the coffee table grunting when he did so.

"Idiota del cazzo." [Fucking idiot.]

He dragged a hand through his hair, pushing the unruly strands off his forehead before letting his head fall back against the couch.

How was it possible that everything the man did seemed sexual. He'd done nothing, but somehow he did everything.

"Rosalyn, isn't it rude to stare?" My heart picked up at my name falling from his lips.