86

LORENA

He had on jeans and an unbuttoned white shirt. He must have pulled them on when he went searching for me. Or maybe he had some business to take care of. It didn’t matter.

Pushing his shirt off of his shoulders, I let it fall soundlessly onto the floor and his magnificent chest on full display.

I pressed a kiss to his lips and closed my eyes, savoring the taste of him, committing it to memory. His heart jackhammered under my touch, matching my own pulse.

Nobody before him ever compared. And there would be nobody after him - ever. I trailed my lips over his tanned olive skin, down his neck.

My hands reached for his belt, my fingers fumbling with it and his jean buttons, eager to get rid of his clothes.

Soon his pants followed the pile of clothes discarded on the floor. I continued the trail down his chiseled abs.

He might have been forty, much older than me, but nobody could deny Alessandro had a body of a god. I nudged him backwards.