Belladonna (Billionaire Boys Club #1)

Chapter 41

He shrugs and tucks his hands into his trouser pockets. "My mamma asked me to bring some stuff over for yours."

"And why does that mean you need to be in my room, exactly?"

"It doesn't."

"Why are you here then?"

"I came here to collect something of mine."

So he does know?

"Collect something...?" My voice trails off as he takes slow steps in my direction.

"Mhm." He hums, coming closer.

He doesn't stop when he is near, just keeps going. Driving me back until my legs hit the bed and I fall sitting onto it.

He leans down, caging me in with each of his arms of either side of me, his hands placed onto the bed. His breaths mingling with mine and our noses almost touching.

"What do you need to collect?" They are less than a whisper but it's as if my head hears them a thousand times louder.

"A great many things, Principessa. But from you, right now, I believe you left with something that belongs to me."

He knows. Dio mio, what do I do?

He moves impossibly closer, his lips a centimetre from mine. His breath is warm and he is so near that I can practically taste it. It's richness and sweetness making me believe he is as big of a fan of chocolate as I am.

Words are unable to leave my tongue, let alone conjure in my brain.

"What are you doing?" I manage. Barely. Because seriously...what is he doing?

My eyes stare right into his, the moment reminding me of last night when we were together in his library. What we were doing. Had we not been interrupted....

I feel the slightest touch of his lips on mine. So soft I think I may have even imagined it. A whisper drifting by.

But suddenly, he moves upright and instead, takes a seat against my headboard.

"I'm waiting." He replies, resting his head back and looking at the ceiling before slanting it back and looking at me.

I take a breath prior to asking, "What did I take, exactly?"

He waits a beat. "My clothes."

Oh.

So...he doesn't know?

"Well?" His deep voice brings me out of it. "I don't have all night, Principessa."

Rolling my eyes at the fact he can go from stealing my senses to settling back into asshole form so quickly, I stand to go and retrieve his clothes.

I know I shouldn't, that it doesn't matter and doesn't affect anything. But I cannot help checking myself in the mirror when stepping into my closet.

Once I take a few moment to ensure I look okay, I pick up the folded pile from my ottoman and turn around.

A burning feeling that I believe is guilt, has me faltering.

If he didn't mention it, and he is the kind of impressionable person who would, he mustn't know.

Unless he does know and just isn't saying anything. But I don't see what that will do.

I shake my head and hurry back into the room.

He has made himself comfortable, placing a pillow behind his bed and finishing off the cookie in his hand.

"I thought you didn't have all night."