CHAPTER NINE.
Melissa didn't think it was possible.
When she was nine, she had this obsessive ritual were she'd take out photos of ridiculously handsome men from magazines and news papers, and cut them out, later mashing them together in a collage of sorts. If she thought hard enough she'd know that the man in front of her was by far hotter than her collaged boyfriends.
Estabon pressed his palm into the small of her back and that small friction and the tense eye contact she maintained with the god, sent a sizzle of excitement down her spine. Melissa was suddenly thankful for the red lighting, it hid her blush and for that she could even bear not being able to clearly see him with the poor lighting.
"Sit, bellissimo." He didn't need to tell her twice. She dived for the chair before h
