For Fallon (10 page)

Fallon

I lie awake as the sun comes up the next morning. This quiet voice in my head is screaming louder and louder that Luca is holding back from me
. I’ve fallen for him, but some things don’t add up. Am I overanalyzing this? Could be; that’s what I told myself last night. That woman in his house and the way he and Adriano reacted has made me wary. His explanation could be true or not. However, my questions about Luca aren’t stopping me from pursuing this relationship. I check my phone, and just then Luca texts me that he’s coming over. Not ten minutes later, I buzz him in and leave the front door open before crawling back into bed.

I’m lounging in bed when he appears in the doorway with a silver box in hand. He sets it on my nightstand.
“Morning.”

“Morning.”
I turn on my side to face him.

The dark circles around his eyes betray he had a rough night. Luca takes an encouraging breath, preparing himself for an apology. “Fallon, I’m sorry about last night. Gina’s truly nothing to me.”

I wasn’t even worried about the woman per se. It’s the situation that had me upset. “I believe you. The situation was just awkward and it made me apprehensive to believe you.”

Luca edges closer to my bed. “I truly get that. It won’t happen again.”

He removes his clothes until he’s in just his boxers and joins me in bed.

Before he gets the chance to open his mouth, I cut in, “Can I open my present?”

He nods with a tentative smile.

I turn to the table and Luca slips in behind me. His arms encircle my waist. “Can we forget about yesterday, Fallon?” His palms wander over the inside of my thighs, forcing my legs apart.

I greedily lift the top off of the box and remove the silver tissue paper. My heart skips a beat. “Oh, my… What… How?” I trace the three volumes of
The Count of Monte Christo
, each with a dissimilar hardcover.

Luca’s lips warm the side of my neck. “Good?”

Amazed, I glimpse at him over my shoulder. “Good?” I almost yell incredulously and point to the books. “
This
will get you laid.”

He grins and kisses my cheek.

“Wait. It can’t be coincidence that you just happened to get me the ones with the covers I didn’t have yet.”

“I checked to see which volumes you had. You told me the second time we met in the coffee shop that you purchase your favorite books with all the different covers, and you haven’t completed your
Count of Monte Christo
collection yet.”

I’m still riveted by my new additions, and Luca grants me this moment in solitude. Luca apologized and I’m not in the mood to fight, so I lean back against his chest.

His fingers trace the sensitive skin on the inside of my thighs. “Fuck, Fallon. Your skin feels peachy soft.” He grunts appreciatively. “Your luscious body is playing tricks on me. You’re consuming my thoughts. All. Day. And. Night.”

I’m pleased I’m not the only one starting to feel that way. “Same goes for you.”

He lets out a quiet laugh. “I have another gift for you,” Luca whispers while still hugging me to him sitting in his lap. “You haven’t noticed the envelope in the box underneath your books.”

I clap my hands in eagerness before rummaging through the silver tissue paper until I’ve found a black envelope. Tearing it open, I take out tickets to
The Phantom of the Opera
on Broadway. I’ve always wanted to see that show on Broadway in New York. I frown when I see the date: my birthday, tomorrow. My eyes cut to Luca’s. “Are we—”

“Go pack your bags. We’re flying to New York to attend
The Phantom
matinee.”

I shriek in delight and throw myself at Luca, peppering kisses all over his face.

***

The Phantom
was two-and-a-half hours of sublime theater. Luca and I slept in the Grand Suite at the ideally-located Peninsula, and we have to check out at noon. 

When I come out of the bathroom dressed in only my towel, he’s on the phone in the living room. Music is playing, but as I step closer to him, I hear his words. “Don’t start. I’ll take care of it tonight. No, I’ll call you later,” he replies in an authoritative tone to the person he’s talking to.

I walk up to him and loop my arms around him. His anxiety edges off of him.

He hangs up and turns in my embrace. “Hmmm, your addictive scent… I was waiting for you. I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he mumbles into my neck.

“Well, that’s how relationships work. Sometimes you wait. Better get used to it,” I retort while lacing my fingers through his hair. My nails softly scrape his skin, making him growl in appreciation.

He lifts his head and looks down his nose to stare at me, shocked and amused. “Is that a challenge, Michaels?” he counters with a mischievous smile.

“Absolutely,” I breathe.

“I love a good, feisty challenge,” he says seductively.

I look up at him amiably when he strokes the inside of my thigh with the back of his forefinger and snatches the towel off of me, leaving me standing naked in front of him. A cold rush of air sweeps over my skin as I take in his dark expression. The darkness isn’t fueled by lust. There’s a menacing undertone on his handsome face. “Are you okay?” I search his eyes for some light.

He hugs my naked form and breath
es me in. “I hate that this weekend with you has been interrupted by my work.”

“Well, you don’t have to be this upset and mad about it.” I try a lighthearted tone.

The guitar intro music notes of ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ by Van Morrison start to play from the speakers.

“Do you have to leave now, or can we have dinner in New York tonight?” I sway my hips to the music as his hands trail down to my behind.

“No,” he growls. “We can stay in New York for a couple more hours.” Luca takes in another sharp breath.

Grabbing his hair, I pull back his head and softly sing along, meeting his eyes.
“Hey where did we go?”
I twirl around Luca. Standing behind him, I rake my nails over his chest, down his abs to the top of his khaki-brown slacks, smiling roguishly at him when he shoots me a sidelong glance.

He catches my hand and swivels me around to him. Luca clasps my left hand in his right while he holds me to him by my hip and joins my dance. His left hand slides up my side to stroke the underside of my breast with his thumb and then back down my hip. He leads me in our seductive dance, never missing a beat.

We sway together from left to right with smiles on our faces. Our dance has blown away the tension in his body. His intensity shattered by little me. I’d like to believe that I’m the only one that reaches him on this fundamental level. Luca’s eyes lock with mine as he mouths along with the lyrics and dips me low. My mahogany locks touching the ground.

He kisses me hard and hungry and spins me facing away from him, pushing me against the glass window and pinning my hands above my head. A shudder resounds through me as my hands contact the cold glass, and he gazes at me in the window reflection. “Keep them there,” he orders. My hips are pulled back slightly, and my back arches when Luca’s fingertips glide down my spine. Palming my behind, he massages the swell of my ass in both hands. The heat radiating off
of him is absorbed by my back as he leans in close to place a kiss between my shoulders. Going down into a kneeling position, he traces his nose down my back, stopping twice to leave a rough kiss in his wake. Luca bites both cheeks and releases a low growl before he starts licking me from front to back with the flat of his tongue. All the while his hands keep cupping my behind. “I want to hear you, Fallon.” His throaty voice barely reaches my ears over the endnotes of ‘Brown Eyed Girl.’ His tongue traces my folds and the inside of my thighs, and then he sucks the bundle of nerves into his warm mouth. Finally, his tongue moves inside me, tasting my inner walls and making my muscles tighten in sweet anticipation. I close my eyes, thinking only of him on his knees.

Unfastening his pants and pushing down his boxer briefs, Luca picks me up by my legs – without turning me around - and his strong, warm hands hold my behind up easily. He shifts my body with my knees pushed up and holds it steady against the window as if I weigh nothing. “It’s going to be hard and fast, Fallon,” he groans and pushes into me in one hard thrust from behind, filling me completely, making us one.

My back curves more to take him in deep, and I spread my arms wide, palms flat against the window.

He wh
ispers dirty words in Italian while he takes me hard. A low, rasping sound escapes him as he keeps up his punishing strokes until he spills inside me and then holds himself still, his lips grazing my shoulder, as our breathing regulates. As he pulls out slowly and places my feet back on the floor, he tightens a fist around my locks, forcing my stare forward. Then Luca takes my left hand and spreads his come around with our entangled fingers. “Rub it in, Fallon,” he whispers against my temple in a hoarse tone while locking eyes with me in the window. His look is blazing with lust, love, and promise. Promise of how I’m his and he’s mine.

“Now I have to shower again.” An eager grin pulls at my lips, hinting for him to join me.

He scoops me up under my knees and saunters to the bathroom. “I’ll clean you, my brown eyed girl.”

In the bathroom, I’m seated on the shiny white counter -
after he places a towel over it - and rub my hand over Luca’s unshaven jaw before pulling his shirt over his head. Now we’re both naked.

“I need to shave,” he comments while rubbing his palm over the underside of his jaw.

“No, don’t shave. Do you have a trimmer with you? I like the scruffy look on you.”

He checks his carry-on and comes back with a trimmer in hand.

I tap my fingers on my lips and ask him, “Can I trim you?”

Uncertainty glimmers behind his eyes. “Okay… But I’ll set the trimmer size and show you how to do it first.”

My eyes round in enthusiasm that he’ll let me do it. “Yes, yes. Show me.”

He plugs the device in and lets it graze over his jaw to neatly shorten the hairs.

“That’s so easy. Let me,” I persuade and lift my hand to the trimmer.

Luca hands it over but doesn’t release his hold. “Don’t go too fast.
Or too slow. Just be careful.”

I refrain from rolling my eyes at him. “Mr. Control Freak, I won’t kill you with a trimmer.” I tug the device out of his hand and let it slide over his jaw, but it isn’t shaving as effortlessly as when he did it. My brows furrow in concentration.

Luca’s trying to contain a smirk.

“Don’t move your lips,” I warn and finish trimming quickly.

Luca checks his reflection in the mirror, smoothing his hand over his jawline. “Good work, Michaels.” He wedges himself between my legs and places both hands on the counter on either side of me. “Are you happy with your gifts?” he asks softly.

“Of course I am.” I rear back slightly to look up into his earnest face. “This isn’t necessary to make me happy, though. Don’t get me wrong. It’s a wonderful gift.” I look around. “But all I want is you. We have to enjoy the little things in life. The musical, this hotel, it’s all great. But
this
is my happiness,” I mutter as I reach up and place my hand over his heart and my other hand over mine. “Spending time with you makes me happy.”

Luca’s lips turn up and while usually his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, this time it does. He folds me into the warmth of his arms, and I cross my ankles behind him before we step into the shower.

***

For the rest of the day, there’s
a restlessness in his behavior, so I ask him several times if we should leave in order for him to take care of his business, but he assures me he can handle it on Monday. Luca’s attentive, but his mind is clearly somewhere else.

We eat Spanish tapas in a small dining room near our hotel, but at the restaurant, it becomes clear to me that he’s even more troubled than I realized. As he makes a visit to the restroom, I start toward the glass case at the bar to inspect the desserts.

A man at the bar takes this as his cue to flirt with me. “Hello, pretty lady.”

I barely acknowledge him with a faltering smile.

Yet, he continues. “Can I buy you a drink?” The guy is in his early thirties maybe. He has a distinctive scar above his right eyebrow that cuts through it, giving him a creepy look.

I glance at the restroom and quickly say, “I’m actually with someone. No, thank you.”

His unnerving laugh washes over me.

Of course he saw I was with Luca because he must’ve seen our intimate pose at the table. Feeling uncomfortable, I head back to my table, but the guy grabs my arm - forcing me to turn - and then, just as suddenly, releases me. I’m startled, and before I have the chance to say something, Luca’s standing beside me.

He looks me over quickly and takes a protective stance between me and the other guy. “Everything okay?” he asks me in a soft tone, however I sense the rage vibrating off of him. His customary cool façade falters, the darkness threatening to come out, which makes wonder if he usually masks his true nature from me.