“I get that. I like to do physical stuff when I’m stressed too. Racing, as you know.”

“Fistfighting.” She raised a brow and he waggled his brows.

“I freely admit we’re a brawling bunch. But we’re all consenting adults.”

Carmella was familiar with that type of man. Which was why she should run the other way when he came near.

Easy enough to think, harder to do. She hadn’t been so hot for someone in years. It addled all her defenses.

“That ziti will take a while.” Duke looked her up and down and in her head, she told him that they should leave well enough alone and not complicate things with sex.

Instead she found herself saying something else entirely. “Probably about half an hour given that cantankerous oven.”

“I can do something with half an hour.” Like kiss and kiss those lips of hers. “That’s not enough time for what I plan to do to you when we get naked finally. But I can work with it.”

She laughed and he really liked how it looked on her. More often than not she had a more serious or thoughtful expression. Pride warmed his belly that she’d opened up to him.

“You’re very sure of yourself.” Her voice had gone lower, throatier.

Now that he’d had a taste of this Carmella, Duke was pretty sure he was going to want a lot more.

“When it comes to the inescapable fact that you and I are going to end up in bed, hell yes. For now, I think we should head into your living room, settle on the couch, and make out awhile.”

Carmella thought about it for a moment and then stood, giving him a fantastic view of her body as she swayed from the room.

He double-timed it to catch up, nearly tripping over the dog, who, once she was assured everything was fine, headed to her bed in the corner and curled into herself with a sigh.

“Your dog is a trip,” he said, settling on the couch.

“She doesn’t know she’s not a person. Don’t tell her,” Carmella said as she sat next to him.

“Her secret’s safe with me.” Duke stared at Carmella’s mouth until she licked her lips and made him groan. “I need that.” He tipped his chin in her direction and she gave a cockeyed expression in return.

“Come get it,” she murmured, knowing exactly what she was doing. It flipped switches he never knew he had.

He slid an arm around her, pulling her to his side, and did as she’d bid, wasting no more time getting his lips on hers.

Duke cupped her cheeks a moment, brushing his thumbs down her temples as she made a sound. This sort of moan that verged on a purr of delight. He sucked it into his mouth, tasting her as he did.

Taking his time, he nipped at her lips, licking them to take away the sting. Each time he did, she arched, pressing into his teeth a little more.

He bit a little harder and that purr deepened. He pushed his control back into place, wanting to see just how much pain Carmella liked with her pleasure.

He licked and kissed down the line of her neck, abrading the pale, velvet soft sensitivity of her skin there with his beard and the edge of his teeth. She shifted, pressing closer, her pulse thundering against his lips when he kissed her just below her ear.

He bit the lobe, sucking it into his mouth, and then whispered, “Someone likes it a little hard.”

“Mmmm.”

How she managed to make it sound like an order as well as an answer, he wasn’t sure. But he liked that too.

She slid her fingers through his hair, tugging him back to her mouth and he was only too willing to comply.

With one easy movement, he banded an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap, facing him.

“Yeah, this works,” he murmured into her mouth and she nipped his bottom lip.

Perfect. He slid his hands up her sides, over her generous, luscious curves, as the music still played in the other room.

They kissed like this, her body against his, the heat of her pussy against his cock as she rocked back and forth against him, for long, lazy minutes as the scent of the pasta rose and her taste settled into his system with deep roots.

By the time the buzzer on the oven timer sounded, he was beyond hard and drunk as fuck on her.

Ginger barked twice as Duke resisted Carmella’s efforts to move, not wanting to lose the heat of her. The dog jumped up and licked them both and then got down.

“Ginger says playtime is over,” Carmella said as she got off his lap.

“See if I bring her a bone anytime soon,” Duke said, a total liar because he really did love that dog of hers.

They moved together in her kitchen, setting the table and getting the food out before sitting down to eat.

She jiggled a switch and then had to duct-tape the door closed on the oven. “What’s going on?” Duke asked.

“It’s old and temperamental. The landlord tells me he’s replacing it, but that doesn’t appear to be too high on his list. It works. It just needs some extra love.”

He frowned, making a mental note to take a look at it later on.

The first bite of the pasta told him everything he needed to know about Carmella Rossi. “This is magic,” he managed to say in between bites.

“Everyone has one or two things they make really well. Baked ziti is mine.”

“Your mom teach you? Mine isn’t such a great cook, but I learned enough to get by.”

A shadow crossed her features for a brief moment. “My grandmother. She taught me how to cook. She was good at everything, and when I’d complain, she’d say she had a sixty-year lead on me and when I was old like she was, I’d be great at lots of stuff too.” Her smile told Duke that Carmella had a great deal of affection for the woman.