The D’amici Mistake – an excerpt

Sizzling, Sexy Santa Barbara | Book 2 

The nausea subsided, and she leaned back against the pillows Santo had placed against the headboard, chewing the fourth cracker slowly. She eyed him from beneath lowered lashes. He still held the packet of crisps and munched on one, too—except he looked so damn sexy doing it, it was almost her undoing. His hair was ruffled, his jaw shaded with stubble, his eyes sleepy and aroused.

And naked beneath her quilt.

She wanted to continue where they’d left off, throw her leg over his waist, and ride him to heaven and back. She loved that position, both of them sitting upright, face-to-face. It put her at almost the same height as him, and she could rub her nipples against the rough, masculine hair on his chest as they kissed and rocked together.

Instead, she frowned and said, “Why are you in my bed?”

He smiled lazily and slid a hand across his chest and down his stomach, probably intending to drive her crazy. “You asked me to stay.”

“I did not. I asked you to leave.”

“Which I did. And when I came back to check on you, you asked me to stay.”

She opened her mouth to deny it, but a vague memory rose of her wanting him beside her. Holding her. Maybe she had asked him to stay.

She huffed. “You’re getting crumbs everywhere.”

Leaning forward, he brushed one off her chest, his fingers lingering on the soft, yellow cotton. “So are you.”

“Santo,” she protested.

“Elena,” he teased, finding another crumb near her nipple and pinching his thumb and fingers around the nub to pick it up. “Got it.”

Sensation shot straight from her breast to her core, and she groaned. Finding strength from somewhere, she pushed away from him. “We broke up. I specifically remember saying we were through.”

“And I specifically remember you asking me to sleep with you.” He ran his hand up her bare thigh as he found the sensitive cord of her neck with his lips. “Come on, Elena,” he said between nibbles. “You’re feeling better. Let’s make love in your bed.”

The words struck her like a blow, and she froze, then disentangled herself from his seductive lips and hands. Jumping up, she yanked her shirt and panties back into place and faced him.

“Max is the only male allowed in my bed. No exceptions.” She turned on her heel and marched toward the bathroom.


“What?” she asked with a snarl, secretly glad to have a reason to turn back to him.

He raised a sardonic eyebrow. “I am the exception. I’ve been in your bed all night, holding you, and the world hasn’t come to an end.”

She stared at him at a loss for words. Her world hadn’t ended, but it felt like it might implode. “Go home, Santo. I’ll contact you about…things.”

He stood up in all his naked glory. So big and hard all over she wanted to drop to her knees and beg for mercy.

And other things.

“I am home,” he said. “Lorenzo gave me the bedroom next door until I decide you’re safe.”

What. The. Hell.

If the two of them ganged up on her, she was doomed.

After dragging on his pants, Santo approached her. When he leaned forward, she thought he was going to kiss her, wanted him to kiss her, but instead, he reached past her, a smirk tilting one corner of his mouth, and knocked on the wall behind her head.

“Just bang if you need me.” Then he patted her backside and left.