Page 42 of The Wrong Mafia Bride
"Can we not analyze my thought process at six in the morning?"
"Why? Embarrassed?"
"No."
"Liar."
I increase my pace slightly, pulling ahead of him just to prove I can. He matches me easily, and we run in silence for another few minutes before he speaks again.
"You know," he says, his voice slightly breathless now—finally—"the offer still stands."
"What offer?"
"All of us. Sharing you." He glances over at me. "You said you wanted just Dante, but I don't think you meant it."
My foot catches on nothing and I stumble slightly. Gabriel's hand shoots out to steady me, grip firm on my elbow, and I jerk away like his touch burned.
"I meant it," I say.
"Did you?"
"Yes."
"Then why can't you look at me when you say it?"
I force myself to turn and meet his eyes. "I meant it."
He studies my face for a long moment, and I watch something shift in his expression—amusement bleeding into something darker, more intent. "You're lying."
"I'm not."
"You are." He slows to a stop, and I stop too because apparently my body has decided to betray me completely today. "You've been thinking about it. Haven't you?"
"No."
"Liar." He takes a step closer, and I take a step back, my spine hitting a tree. "You've been thinking about what it would be like. All three of us. Taking turns with you. Making you feel things you've never felt before."
My breathing picks up, and it has nothing to do with the run. "You're delusional."
"Am I?" Another step closer, until he is right in front of me, one hand braced against the tree beside my head. "Then why is your pulse racing?"
"Because I was running."
"We stopped running thirty seconds ago."
Damn him.
"This is inappropriate," I manage, but my voice comes out breathier than I intended.
"Probably," he agrees, and his other hand comes up to rest on my waist, thumb pressing against my hip bone through the thin fabric of my leggings. "Tell me to stop."
I should. I absolutely should. This is insane. This is dangerous. This is exactly the kind of thing that leads to situations I cannot control.
But the words do not come.
Gabriel leans in closer, his mouth near my ear. "Tell me you haven't thought about it, Bella. Tell me you haven't wondered what it would feel like to have all three of us focused on you. Tell me you haven't imagined it."
"I haven't," I whisper, but it is the weakest lie I have ever told.
