Page 118 of Our Chaotic Love Affair

We looked at each other. The space between us was charged with longing and words unsaid.

“Cleo,” I started.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say something you’ll regret in the morning.” She smiled, but it was sad. “We’re both a little drunk. It’s late. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

“I won’t regret it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” I took a step closer. “I’ve been regretting a lot of things. Things I didn’t say. Things I didn’t do. But this?” I looked at her. “I won’t regret this.”

“Cash—”

I kissed her. Couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop myself.

She gasped against my mouth. Went still for half a second. Then she kissed me back.

Her wine glass hit the stairs with a soft thunk. Her hands came up to my face, fingers threading through my hair, and she kissed me like she’d been waiting for this too. Like the weeks apart had been just as hard for her.

I backed her against the wall. Her shoes clattered to the floor. My hands found her waist, her back, the bare skin of her shoulder where her dress had slipped. She moaned and pulled me closer.

Her lips were exactly as I remembered. Soft, warm, tasting faintly of wine. The kiss deepened, growing more urgent with each passing second. I couldn’t get enough of her. My hands slid into her hair, cradling her head as I pressed her against the wall. Her soft body against mine filled all the empty spaces I’d been carrying for weeks.

“I missed this,” I whispered against her mouth. “I missed you.”

She bit my lower lip in response, a gentle tug that sent heat rushing through my entire body. I groaned and lifted her, hands gripping her thighs as she wrapped her legs around my waist. The wall supported her back while I supported the rest of her. So perfect in my arms.

Her head fell back as my lips traveled down her neck. I tasted the salt of her skin, felt her pulse racing beneath my mouth. Her fingers tightened in my hair, guiding me, wanting more.

I couldn’t think straight. The whiskey in my system, the scent of her perfume, and the feel of her body against mine overwhelmed me in the best possible way. Every doubt I’d been carrying dissolved the moment her lips touched mine. This wasn’t Rome. This wasn’t a fantasy or an escape. This was real.

“There are people everywhere,” she whispered. “Someone could see.”

“Let them,” I said, surprising myself with how little I cared.

Her eyes widened, reflecting something that looked like wonder. “Who are you and what have you done with Cash?”

I smiled, pressing my forehead against hers. “I’m still figuring that out.”

CHAPTER 38

CLEO

This was a terrible idea. The worst idea. Monumentally bad.

It was late and I had to be up in six hours to help Melody get ready for her wedding. I should be sleeping. Hydrating. Doing a face mask. Literally anything except pulling Cash Bancroft upstairs to his massive suite. But I couldn’t stop.

I’d longed for him. Dreamed about him. I had tried to convince myself Rome had been a beautiful mistake, that I didn’t need him. I’d been lying.

We stumbled into my room and I barely got the door closed before he had me against it, his body pressing mine into the wood, his hands already working at the zipper of my skirt.

“Cleo,” he breathed against my neck.

“Don’t talk.” I pulled at his shirt, trying to get it off him. “If you talk I might remember all the reasons this is a bad idea.”