Page 49 of Secret Seduction

“I drank too much and didn’t want to drive with him in the car.”

“You drove home?” I quirk a brow.

“No, I had Sal take me.” He steps toward me and cups the side of my face. “I’m sorry about what I implied earlier. It was only meant to be a joke, but it came out wrong. You’re driving me insane,” he murmurs, running his fingers along my cheek and to my jaw. “I feel like I’ve lost all control of my life since you walked into it.”

He pinches my chin and tips my face up, forcing me to look at him. “You’re all wrong for me. Too young, too reckless, too unpredictable. Like a fucking wild card.” I swallow the emotion down as he continues, “You don’t play fair, Wild Card.”

His nickname flows through my veins, first hitting my heart and then sliding down to my belly, tightening it, before ending at the apex of my legs, causing me to clench my thighs in need.

Holy shit, how can two simple words cause such a reaction out of me?

“But I can’t stop playing,” he mutters. “I know you’re going to win. But I can’t stop fucking playing.”

Before I can respond—not that I have any clue what to say to that—his mouth descends on mine. His lips are smooth, firm, perfect, caressing my own.

His tongue slides along my bottom lip, then the top. And then he shocks me when he bites down on my lip, his hands twisting in my hair.

I gasp as the pain mixed with pleasure radiates through my body.

Lorenzo pulls me closer so our bodies are flush against one another, and I feel his desire pressing into my lower belly.

His tongue delves between my parted lips, stroking, teasing, devouring. He tastes like the perfect mix of whiskey, seduction, and regret.

And then it hits me … whiskey.

He tastes like whiskey because he’s been drinking.

“Stop,” I breathe out, gently shoving him back and breaking the kiss.

The loss I feel is immediate, but I push the thought to the side as his heated gaze pierces into me with confusion.

“You’ve been drinking.”

“I’m not drunk,” he mutters, lifting his hand and stepping toward me. “And unless you slipped something into my drink …”

It’s meant as a joke—I know that from the way the corner of his lips is playfully quirked upward—but him bringing up what I did only cements that this can’t happen.

We might be attracted to each other, but nothing can come from it. I’m only here because of the threat on my life, and he’s only letting me stay here out of guilt—and because I drugged him and bribed someone to marry us.

“This can’t happen,” I choke out, taking a step back. The look of rejection on his face damn near has me giving in, but I can’t risk it. “You might not be drunk, but if we let this go any further, you’ll regret it in the morning.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but I softly press my two fingers to his lips to silence him.

“That was without a doubt the best kiss I’ve ever experienced,” I tell him, not giving a shit how inexperienced my admission makes me sound. “But that’s all it can be.”

And then I disappear down the hall and lock myself in my room, knowing if I don’t, I might change my mind and do something I may or may not regret.

“Oh, my sweet boy.”

I lay Leo in his crib and turn on the baby monitor, thankful he finally fell asleep.

It’s been a long afternoon.

He woke up cranky, which should’ve been my first clue something was up. I changed his diaper, got him dressed, and made his breakfast. He seemed okay the rest of the morning, but then, while we were playing after he picked at his lunch, just before nap time, he looked at me with a weird expression, and a moment later, he projectile-vomited everywhere.

Because Lorenzo had important back-to-back meetings, I called Peyton since she has the most experience with three kids, and she said there’d been a bug going around and to check his temperature. Thankfully, he didn’t have a fever, so she recommended I give him a bath and keep him comfortable.

I kept him awake for a little bit to make sure he wasn’t going to throw up again, and when his eyes drooped, I laid him down.