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Authors: Melinda De Ross

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BOOK: Falling for Italy
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She turned to face him.

“What did you say? Was that Italian?”

He smiled. The white mask made a delicious contrast with his smooth caramel skin. He looked amazing indeed.

“Yes. I said I was so lucky to have the most beautiful woman for myself tonight.”

She was pressed between the stone balustrade and his solid body. His nearness made her dizzy with arousal. She heard her own breath coming out shallow when she said, “I’m afraid of heights.”

“Don’t you trust me, Sonia? I would never let you go.”

So saying, he bent his head and kissed her—softly at first, then deeper, intimately. She felt a hungry vibration in his chest as his hot hands held her bare back firmly. She’d forgotten all about the cold and wondered vaguely why their mixed breaths came out as foggy mist. He ended the kiss, biting her lower lip gently. “Let’s go inside. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

He took her hand, forgetting the glasses and they headed inside. He led her to a table near the bar. Next to it, a couple dressed like—she guessed—Gomez and Morticia Adams were dancing, holding each other close. Giovanni spoke loudly into her ear.

“These are my sister and her fiancé. Linda, Gerard,” he approached the couple, “Come meet Sonia.”

They shook hands, and Linda told her she was very glad she’d come. Sonia was amazed by how beautiful Linda Coriola was up-close, although she was so different from her brother. Now she wore a black wig over her natural blonde hair and a long, very tight black dress. Her fiancé, Gerard Leon, was extremely handsome in his black suit—tall and sexy, wearing what Sonia assumed could only be a fake moustache, since it was black and his hair was dark blond. Nevertheless, they made a stunning couple.

She was grateful conversation was almost impossible, due to the volume of the music. As Linda and Gerard urged her to have fun, Giovanni drew her among the dancing couples, just as another song was beginning. It was
I Want to Know What Love Is,
sang by Foreigner. She particularly loved this wonderful song and she melted in Giovanni’s arms as he pulled her close.

“I have to let you know I’m a very bad dancer,” she said in his ear.

“That’s not true. You didn’t have the right partner until now. Look at how well we fit together,” he whispered back huskily.

Indeed, they did. Like the halves of a two-piece puzzle, they fit together perfectly as they swayed sensuously in the slow rhythm of the music. His hands held her close, lightly rubbing her back, sending shivers of pleasure through her with every tiny motion of his fingers over her skin. Their gazes seemed permanently locked, lost in one another, never tiring of watching each other with an echoing longing reflecting in their motions, as they moved together slowly on the dance floor.

They were never separated during the entire night. When they danced, when they sat at a table eating some delicious appetizers, his hands were always on her—holding her waist, her hand, linking his fingers with hers.

Sonia thought this was the most magical night of her life. She wished it would never end, but around three o’clock she caught herself rubbing her calves for the hundredth time. He noticed and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing,” she replied airily. “The shoes are killing me. I don’t wear heels often. I’ll be all right when I get home and ditch these ankle breakers.”

“Maybe I should go home with you and give you a massage. I’m an expert, you know,” he told her, his teeth flashing extremely white in the dim light, as his eyes sparkled deep into hers. Her heart skipped a beat and she vaguely wondered if this was a good idea. Gazing at him, at those sensual lips whose kisses she’d yearned for so long, she told herself it was stupid and unfair for both of them to deny she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted any man. God knew how much he was going to stay, then she’d never see him again. Why waste the little precious time they had together?

“You’ll have to drive,” she said, looking him straight in the eyes. “I came here with a taxi.”

Her flat was warm and dimly lighted by a single lamp she’d left on. Combined with the light coming from her huge window, it was more than enough to see their way around. As soon as she entered the living room, she threw her coat on a chair and took off her shoes. Giovanni smiled, looking around, then took off his own shoes. He went to the glass wall and whistled.

“You have a great place here, Sonia. I should’ve thought of this,” he said meditatively, studying the glass wall. He stood a moment silhouetted against the lights coming from outside, then turned to her.

“I owe you a massage, don’t I?”

He walked toward her, taking off his mask, revealing his beautiful face, which now wore the traces of a four a.m. shadow. She removed her mask too and placed it on the sofa, fidgeting with the cushions.

“Um, would you care for something to drink?” she asked, suddenly feeling a trace of nervousness.

“No, thank you. I’ve had enough,” he said. Taking the cushion from her hand, he put it back on the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable,” he added, taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning the top three buttons of his red shirt. She watched him, feeling her eyes go glassy with pure lust, the kind she couldn’t feel not even for a cream and chocolate cake.

He made her sit on the sofa and, taking her legs onto his lap, began massaging them, starting with her feet.

“Mmmm, you’ve got magical hands.” She sighed in bliss as he worked his way up to her calves, kneading her aching muscles with strong fingers, applying just the right amount of pressure.

“I know. Better now?” he asked after he’d finished.

“Oh, yes… Thank you.”

When she let her feet slide down, he drew her to him, encircling her waist with his arm.

“Are you sleepy, Sonia? Do you want me to go?” he asked in a rough whisper, staring into her eyes.

She couldn’t seem to be able to escape his gaze.

“No. And no,” she answered, also in a whisper. Compared to the noise at the party, the silence surrounding them now seemed soothing. The very sound of their own breaths, the faint rustle of clothes as they shifted was somehow sensual. He pulled her onto his knees and took the pin from her hair, combing his fingers through it, making her feel so sexy and desirable as no man ever had. He cupped her face in his palms and, for a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say something. But then he kissed her and her mind stopped analyzing anything beyond the incredible sensations his mouth awakened in her.

He ran his hands over her body and she was lost in him, intoxicated with desire, which was stronger and more demanding than the need for air. She unbuttoned his shirt and slid her hands over his smooth, muscled chest, kissing his neck wantonly as a low growling sound came from deep within his throat. She eased his shirt off his shoulders, revealing strong arms, a perfectly sculpted torso and an abdomen hard as steel.

They tumbled to the floor, sinking in the soft fluffy rug. He pinned her down with his hot body, kissing her ravenously, his lips wandering down her neck, shoulders and breasts. She felt boneless, overwhelmed by sensations too sublime to be described. His hands restlessly removed the thin barrier of her dress, leaving her in nothing but a pair of minuscule lace panties and her black stockings. He pushed himself up to his knees, watching her as he unzipped his pants. The sight of his rigid erection made her breath come fast and shallow, as his was. His eyes were glassy and dark with wanting her. When he lowered himself on top of her again, she felt his heart beating just as fast as her own, the skin of his chest rubbing against her bare breasts.

He trailed kisses down her body and she arched her back, moaning softly as he removed her panties and his own pants. When she felt him full and completely naked against her, his magnificent body pressing her down, she closed her eyes in ecstasy. She opened them wide again, gasping breathlessly when, with a gradual motion of his hips, he made their bodies one entity. She let him fill not only her body, but her heart as well. He whispered fiercely, “Look at me, Sonia.
Guardami!

She did. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as they moved together, driven by feelings she’d never experienced before. She dug her nails hard into his back when she felt herself fall right among the stars with the speed of lightning. She cried out his name, her body jolting with an incendiary fulfillment. Thousands of shivers ran through her as she felt him let go, as lost in her as she was lost in him.

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

The milky morning light revealed their sweaty bodies still entangled on the plush rug, partially covered with a blanket he’d dragged from the sofa. Giovanni stared outside, softly tracing circles on Sonia’s smooth back. She was sprawled on top of him, her regular breathing making him think she had fallen asleep.

It had been an amazing night, the best he had ever spent with a woman. Not only because they had made love for hours, not only because it had been different and increasingly exciting every time, but also because it had been special. He’d had many women in his time—some more experienced than Sonia, some bolder, others more innocent. But none of them had made him feel so wanted, so fulfilled. Her passion and desire had touched and softened his heart in such a strange way he didn’t know what to make of it. He felt completely happy, maybe for the first time in his life.

She stirred, sighing, and then said drowsily, “Giovanni?”

“I thought you were asleep. What is it,
cara mia
?”

“This was the most beautiful night in my entire life. I don’t want you to say anything. I just felt the need to say it aloud.”

His heart gave a jolt of emotion as he lifted her chin to gaze deep into her eyes.

“Was it really?”             

She nodded, looking at him with those big, brown, expressive eyes of hers.

“You’ve read my mind, you know that? I was just thinking the same thing. And I’m not just saying that. It’s true,” he added when he saw she was about to interrupt him. “It was the most amazing night of my life too, Sonia.”

She kissed his chest and he drew her higher, until their mouths met in an intimate way that never failed to entice him to the point of losing control. He buried his fingers in her hair as she rose above him, moving over him like a goddess of sin, yet as innocent as the purest of angels. She brought him to a state of delirious madness as she ran her hands, lips and tongue over his heated body, damp with sweat and lust. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he rolled her to her back, taking her fast and hard, seeing untamed passion in her eyes, as she moved with him in the rhythm of raw desire.

Afterward, he rested his head on her chest, waiting for sanity to return and his ears to stop ringing. When he recovered his breath enough to speak, he asked, “Weren’t you supposed to be at work? It’s Monday and nearly ten a.m.”

“Nah.” She sighed and stretched languorously, looking sexy and satisfied. “I pretty much make my own schedule.”

“Really? That’s good.”

“Yeah, well…I suppose doing what you like, when you like it is the best thing every person can hope for, career-wise.”

She stroked his short hair, then yawned and said, “Do you mind if I go take a shower?”

“Go right ahead. Do you mind if I join you?”

She smiled up at him, trying without any success to flip him off her.

“Of course not. It’s gonna be awfully crowded in there though. I have a tiny shower.”

He smiled wickedly and kissed her lips, then rolled to one side.

“No problem. Go and get started. I’ll find my way to your bathroom in just a few minutes,” he told her, lying on his stomach, feeling sleepy and satiated as a feline.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, Sonia was bending over him, gently caressing his hair and whispering in his ear, “Giovanni, darling, wake up.”

He opened one eye. She was standing over him, dressed in jeans and a pink sweater.

“Why are you dressed?” he mumbled. “What time is it?”

“It’s nearly lunchtime. I don’t have anything to eat, so I’m going out to buy something. Go into the bedroom and sleep some more.”

He turned onto his back, rubbing his face in an attempt to shake off the pleasant fatigue of a fantastic night of sex.

“No, I’m…I’m going to take a shower. Why don’t you wait for me and we’ll go out together?”

“It’s okay. Go and shower, take your time. I’m starving, so I’ll go now to get something to eat. I won’t be long. Make yourself at home.”

She bent to kiss him and he drew her down into his arms, kissing her passionately until she giggled breathlessly.

“Whoa! What are you, Don Juan de Marco? What kind of vitamins do you take?”

He laughed, burying his face in her hair.

“Turns out I don’t need any vitamins. I only need you. You’re like a drug to me, Sonia,” he told her seriously, studying her face. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, but she still looked incredibly beautiful. Her skin was flushed; her pink lips were rosy and swollen. She had long eyelashes, dark and naturally curly, framing those spectacular dark chocolate eyes, whose round shape gave her such an innocent look at times. He traced her lower lip with his finger.

“Don’t be long, okay?”

“Okay.”

She kissed him quickly, and then rose.

“Dress warm, for Heaven’s sake!” he shouted after her. He heard her rummage through what he assumed was her closet. When she appeared, she was wearing a thick red impermeable coat, which reached her knees and had a hood hemmed with fur. She looked like a sexy Eskimo.

“This is the thickest coat I own,” she said grumpily. “Happy now?”

“Yes. That’s much better, and you look spectacular.”

“Yeah, right.” She sniggered, grabbing her handbag and keys. She was still muttering something under her breath when she closed the door behind her.

Giovanni sat looking sightlessly at the door for a moment, with what he imagined was a silly grin on his face. The woman could make him smile.

He got up and, buck naked, went in search of the bathroom, which wasn’t hard to find in the small flat. It was located at the end of the hall, next to Sonia’s bedroom. He opened the bedroom door and took a peek inside.

The room was nice, prettily furnished in dark orange and copper, with a massive bed, a single nightstand, a dresser, and some other stuff. The opposite wall sported a huge window; it seemed the woman of his dreams had a big windows fetish. Or was the fetish applicable just for the word
big
? He hoped he qualified there. He’d never had any complaints and she seemed more than satisfied during the night with the size and functioning of his equipment.

He grinned cockily, shaking his head, and went into the bathroom. It was indeed small, blue and white, having a tiny shower cabin and blessedly hot water. He stood under the jet, letting the waterfall pour on his face and body, relaxing the tense muscles, which had been in overdrive the past twenty-four hours.

He toweled quickly, then brushed his teeth with a spare toothbrush he found on a shelf. When he went into the living room again, he winced at the state his new suit was in. After some digging, he found his boxers, shirt, pants, one sock and his suit jacket. Dressed, he was frantically looking for the other sock, when he spotted it onto a potted plant. He pulled it on, and then felt up the plant’s dirt. It was desert-dry. He went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water, which he poured into the pot.

“Hang in there, darling. She’ll come around,” he told the plant, sighing.

It looked like an African violet, though he couldn’t be sure. His mother, Giovanna, had a love for plants. When she and Vincente—his father—were still a couple, they lived in an enormous house, with lovely gardens. Now his mother lived in Rome, with her second, new and young husband, Fabrizzio Angeli, a successful businessman. Giovanni and Linda had wagered on how long it would take her to bankrupt him. Linda had bet two years, but Giovanni gave the man at least four. Not that he doubted his mother’s capacity for spending money, but he knew the guy to be a good investor.

He picked up most of the things scattered on the floor and put the blanket back on the sofa. He was just turning on the TV when he heard Sonia open the door. She came in smelling of snow, doughnuts and fresh coffee.

She put down the paper bag she was carrying, and took off her jacket and boots.

“I thought you’d still be asleep,” she told him, coming to the sofa with the bag of goodies. “My, my, you’ve tidied up,” she said looking around, then back at him.

“Of course. Unlike most men, I like tidiness. You’ve nearly killed that plant.”

A pained expression clouded her face.

“I forgot to water it again, haven’t I?”

She sighed and sat on the couch, taking out a dozen doughnuts and two lattes.

“I didn’t know how you liked your coffee. I hope this is fine.”

Giovanni took his coffee and sipped, sitting next to her.

“I usually drink it black, but this is fine. Thank you,
cara
,” he said, smiling at her, taking a sugared doughnut from the box.

She frowned.

“You’ve called me that before. What does it mean?” she asked, biting into a chocolate doughnut.

“It means
darling.

“I like the sound of that. They say Italian is one of the most romantic and melodious languages in the world. I tend to agree. I don’t understand a thing, but when you speak, it sounds so…sensual. You said many things to me in Italian last night,” she added, not looking him in the eyes. “What does
guardami
mean?”

He put his coffee on the table next to the sofa. Encircling her waist with his arm, he drew her closer.

“It means
look at me
. I remember when I told you that. The first time we made love.”

He skimmed her lips with his, picking up fine traces of powdered sugar with the tip of his tongue. He felt her heartbeat quickening as he moved his hand on her ribcage. His abdomen muscles tightened and he groaned when he discovered she wasn’t wearing anything under the pink sweater.

“Do you do this on purpose, to get me hard?” he whispered in her ear, as his finger found her nipple.

She gasped. “No, I just…can’t stand wearing a bra. They’re too tight. But I’ll put one on, if you want.”

“You’re kidding, right? I’d tear it in a thousand pieces,” he growled and bent to kiss her.

His phone rang, startling them both. He swore in Italian, and then got it out of his pocket, looking at the display. It was Linda. He sighed, but answered.


Pronto, bambina! Come stai?”

“Hello, stranger,” his sister said into the receiver. “Where are you? As if I wouldn’t know…” she went on insinuatingly, and he could almost see her standing with a hand on her hip, cat blue eyes slanted, tongue in cheek.

“I’m having breakfast.”

“Breakfast, huh? It’s past noon for us, other people. When are you coming home?”

“I’m not sure. Do you need me for anything?”

“Well, the decorators made a mess in here and Gerard is at work. I could use a hand, but if you’re busy, I can call Mrs. Adams.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be there in half an hour.
Ciao, sorella
!”


Ciao, amore. Grazzie!”

He put the phone back in his pants pocket and turned to Sonia.

“I have to go. Linda needs help picking up after the decorators. Don’t ask.”

She laughed.

“Okay, I won’t. Don’t you want to finish your coffee?”

He got to his feet. Taking her hand, he pulled her up and into his arms.

“What I’d like to finish is a different thing entirely,” he said and kissed her intimately, tasting her excitement. “But it’ll have to wait. What do you want to do tonight?”

She shrugged.

“I don’t know. I don’t have any plans. All I know is that I have to wake up early tomorrow. I can’t skip work again.”

His voice sounded husky and enticing even to his own ears when he told her, “Don’t worry,
cara
, I’ll have you in bed very early.”

 

* * * *

 

After Giovanni left, Sonia changed into soft pink pajamas and crawled into bed. She really needed a few more hours sleep after the sexual marathon she’d had last night. She curled under her thick blankets, smiling dreamily. Giovanni was an amazing lover, the kind she didn’t even know existed. She wondered if having Italian blood accounted for his virility and sensuality, for his unimaginable ardor and intensity—not only when making love, but even when he looked at her. His eyes seemed to burn from within, like his entire being.

Thank God she was still taking her contraceptives. It had been a long time since her last lover—she couldn’t even remember what he looked like right now—but she kept taking the pills. For good measure, it seemed.

Giovanni had asked her last night if he should use a condom, but she’d told him about the pills. It was true they didn’t offer protection against STDs, but somehow she knew a man like him could be trusted. Granted, instincts were muzzy when hormones took over. Still, the thought didn’t worry her. She trusted him.

She fell asleep still smiling, feeling the pleasant fatigue melting off her bones and dissipating into nothingness.

The sound of her ringing phone awoke her abruptly. She took it from the nightstand, squinting at the display for a few moments. It was Giovanni.

BOOK: Falling for Italy
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