~ Niamh ~
"Come sit with me. Let's talk," Massimo said, patting the space beside him on the edge of the bed.
I planted my feet firmly on the ground to stop my legs from betraying me. My body immediately wanted to move toward him, but my mind was screaming for me to stay put.
"No. I have nothing to say to you, so leave. I'm tired and I need to sleep," I scowled at him, my arms tightening around me.
"Wrong. We have a lot to talk about," he countered and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs.
The movement stretched his shirt, his muscles flexing dangerously underneath. My eyes rebelliously drifted back to those open buttons, offering me a glimpse of his wide, chiseled chest dusted with dark hair.
I could see the hint of the tattoos on his shoulder blades that I knew spiraled down both arms and…
Oh God, just stop, Niamh! Concentrate!
"Well…" he drawled, his voice turning rougher all of a sudden.
