Page 189 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

“Hey…” I smile softly at her through the mirror.

Her hair is a mess around her shoulders. But it’s beautiful.

I finish unbuttoning my shirt and slide it off.

“Hey…” She climbs out of bed and walks toward me barefoot.

I’m unfastening my belt when her arms slide around my waist from behind, the movement halting me instantly.

She presses her cheek against my back without saying a word.

And Christ.

Something about the simple intimacy of it nearly undoes me after the night I’ve had. My hands brace against the wall while her arms clamp around me.

“You’re late,” she murmurs sleepily against my spine.

“I had something I needed to see to personally.”

“Another woman?”

“Really, Christine?” I huff the faintest laugh.

“It’s been two weeks and you still won’t touch me.” She grumbles, her voice still thick with sleep.

“Give me some credit, will you?” A tired smile pulls briefly at my mouth.

Her fingers drift slowly across my stomach now, tracing absent patterns against my skin beneath the waistband of my trousers.

The contact sends arousal shooting through my body instantly.

It’s not that I don’t want her. Heaven forbid that ever happens. If it does, then I know I’m broken beyond help.

But I can’t take any more from her.

I almost lost her.

Now every time I touch her, some part of me remembers her screaming for me to stay away.

So yes, I’ve been gentle.

Painfully gentle.

Because right now all I want is for her to keep healing, even if it kills me slowly in the process.

Christine presses closer behind me, warm cheek against my back, her fingertips sliding lower before curling lightly against my abdomen.

“You know this is making me insecure, right?” She mumbles.

I snort.

I turn slowly in her arms until she’s looking up at me properly, sleep-heavy eyes blinking beneath the low light.

Her silk dress hangs loose against her skin, one strap slipping low enough to expose the curve of her shoulder and the swell of her breast.

And fuck… desire hits me hard enough to feel physical.

My hand comes up automatically, brushing my knuckles carefully against her cheek.