“Wait.” Somehow, I found the strength to pull away from him. Instead of letting me, he jerked my body into his and brought his lips back to my mouth.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?” he asked before capturing my tongue with his. He held my face with his hand and pressed harder. “I don’t want to stop, Pia.”
“Get a room,” we both heard Lily say as she laughed and walked out the front door. Before she closed it, she stuck her head back in. “In fact, there’s one right at the top of the stairs. Have fun, kids.”
The door closed behind her, but her interruption had been enough to make both of us lean back.
Mylos ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “Tell me again why you’re here.”
My mind was reeling with want. Why had I come to England? “I wanted to see you again, Mylos.”
“Come with me,” he said, pulling me to the front door. “I can’t be alone with you and not touch you.” He held my hand and led me outside. “I’m starving. Have you eaten?”
It took a minute for his words to register. Had I? I couldn’t remember. I shook my head. “No. I don’t think so.”
He laughed and leaned down to kiss me. It was a quick brush of his lips on mine, and then he kept walking.
“You’re taller,” I murmured, realizing that my head no longer reached his shoulder.
“Yeah? Well, you’re just as sexy as you’ve always been.” He nuzzled my neck, and my knees went weak.
“Mylos,” I groaned.
“Right. Food.”
No—that wasn’t what I meant at all.
When we got to the pub where Lily had taken me my first night in London, Mylos found a table and then sat across from me. After the barmaid took our order, he leaned forward and rested his forearms on the surface. “Hi, Pia.”
I smiled. “Hi, Mylos.”
“Have I told you how much I love the way you say my name?”
I felt my cheeks flush, and I looked down. He reached over and put his hand on mine.
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
“How long are you?”
I sighed. “I’m leaving in the morning.”
“Tomorrow?”
I nodded.
“Can’t you stay a while longer? I mean, a couple of days?”
“I can’t.” I barely had time to get home and pack before I needed to leave for Siena. While it wasn’t far, I was living on campus and had to check into the dorms before my classes started.
“Right. It was unfair of me to ask.”
“What about you? Aren’t you starting your training soon?”
“I report in three days.” He ran one hand through his hair. “God, I bloody hate that we wasted so much time.” He squeezed my hand. “So, you didn’t say why exactly you have to get back.”
“I’m starting at the university.”
“What? That’s brilliant.”
I smiled. It was something I’d admitted to him in one of my letters. It wasn’t expected that I’d go to college, but I really wanted to. If it weren’t for Mylos convincing me I should, I might not have been brave enough to bring it up to my father. As it was, it had taken some persuasion on my part, particularly when I told him I wanted to study business so I could run the winery someday.
“I’m really happy for you, Pia.”
“If it weren’t for you…”
“Nah, you would’ve done it anyway. How did the conversation go with your father, by the way?”
I laughed. “He thought I was pazza—crazy. But he finally gave in. My mamma helped talk him into letting me go. I’m sure there’s a part of him that hopes I’ll drop out and get married.” I laughed. “But not to Paolo.” Actually, if I did, it would make my father very happy, but I wouldn’t tell Mylos that.
“I’m so proud of you.” He smiled, and it was so beautiful, it made my heart hurt.
“I’m proud of you too.”
We talked more as we shared each other’s food. Unlike the other time I’d been at this pub, I stopped drinking after one pint. When I told him about spending an evening here with Lily and her friends, he laughed.
“I should’ve known you’d get on well.”
“I was going to leave, that first day, but she convinced me to stay.”
“Thank God,” he murmured, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. “I want to kiss you again.”
“I’d like that.”
He paid the tab, and we left the pub, stopping to kiss every so often on the way to his house. When we walked up to the front door, he put his hand on the side of my face. “I want to be with you, Pia. But if it isn’t something you want…”
“I do, Mylos.”
We laughed as he fumbled with his keys. “I’m a little nervous.”
“Me too.”
He was about to stick the key in the lock when the door opened.
“Miles!” exclaimed his father. “And Pia! What are you both doing here?”
“I’m sorry about this,” Mylos whispered to me after he explained what had happened to his parents and how we both ended up in London.
“I’m just happy to be with you,” I whispered back.
His arm around my shoulders made me feel safe, protected, like I could always rely on him. When he told me the reason he wanted to join the military was to protect the innocent from harm, I knew it was the exact right thing for him.
“So,” said his mother after we finished dinner. “Sleeping arrangements?”
“Mum,” groaned Mylos, and his father laughed.
“Let them be, Margaret.”
“Pia can stay where she is, in my room. I’ll take the sofa,” Mylos offered.
I saw his mother and father make eye contact. Even if they hadn’t said a word about where we would sleep, I would’ve felt uncomfortable sleeping with Mylos in his boyhood home with his parents in the room next door. When—if—we ever made love, I wouldn’t want it to feel like we were sneaking or doing something we shouldn’t be.
“Feel like going for a walk?”
“I’d like that.”
Instead of making love, Mylos and I walked around London, talking, laughing, and kissing until the sun came up.
We returned to his house with just enough time to grab my bag and get to the airport.
“These were the best twenty-four hours of my life,” he said when he walked with me as far as airport security would allow.
“Mine too.”
We kissed again and then again after that.
“I don’t know whether I’ll be able to get leave while I’m at Sandhurst, but I’ll write, Pia.”
“I’ll write too, Mylos.” I kissed him once more and then took a step back. “I have to go.”
“I know.”
“Goodbye, Mylos.”
“Arrivederci, Pia.”
5
Grinder
Two Years Later
Sandhurst, England
Being at Sandhurst was the worst and best two years of my life. It was quite hard to be away from my family, and I found there was little room for personal expression, in other words, having a personality. In my time at the academy, I experienced sleep deprivation, punishments for minor infringements, freezing-cold exercises, injuries, exhaustion, and a very steep learning curve. Nothing I experienced hurt or was harder than missing Pia, though.
Conversely, as a military officer to be, I thrived. Whenever there was a competition, which was daily or several times a day, I consistently landed in first or second place. The man who bested me at least half the time, became my best friend.
Keon Edgemon and I met during in-processing, and our rooms were next to each other. He was a good bloke—funny, intelligent, committed, and seemed to have an innate sense as to when I needed time on my own. It wasn’t a trait many of our fellow cadets shared. Too often, I’d find myself in conversations I cared little of. More, I resented them. While the physical aspect of our training was ri
gorous, it was the academics that gave me the most pause. Keon, an ace student, would frequently rescue me by engaging offenders in his own conversation.
Our final day at the institution that had been around since 1802 and graduated innumerable officers into the British Army, culminated with a celebratory dinner, during which we’d be commissioned as second lieutenants and receive our first assignments. We’d also be given our call signs, initially put into place to save our true identities from the enemy when transmissions were intercepted. Now, it was more a rite of passage.
“I’m not much of a speechmaker,” said our commander after we were officially commissioned, “so I’m going to get down to business. Each of you has a sealed envelope in front of you. You may open them now.”
The sound of them being ripped open filled the hall; otherwise, it was silent.
“What did you get?” asked Keon, leaning close to me.
“Monckton.”
“Brilliant.”
“You too?”
“Affirmative.”
Both Keon and I would be leaving Sandhurst and report directly to Fort Monckton, where we’d train for six months in the Intelligence Officer’s New Entry Course. Only two cadets from each graduating class were selected for the program. Both Keon and I had applied, and as he said, it was brilliant that we were the ones chosen.
“Call sign?” I asked.
He rolled his eyes and handed me the piece of paper.
“Edge?”
“Also bloody brilliant,” he deadpanned. “What’s yours?”
“Grinder.”
“Better than Stoner, I suppose.”
I laughed. The call sign committee had not exercised much creativity in our assigned names. Those also seated at our table appeared to feel the same degree of disappointment.
I didn’t care. Being accepted at Monckton was reward enough for the hard work I’d put in.
“Fancy a pint?” Keon asked after we’d collected our belongings and finished with our final room inspection.
“I could stand one.”
“Ready to head back to London?” he asked as we sat at the local pub, celebrating our assignments.
“For now.” We had seven days’ leave before we had to report to Monckton. I’d given little thought to what I’d do other than catch up on a year’s worth of missed sleep. That, and figuring out a way to see Pia.
So far, neither of us had been able to come up with a way to make it work. She was in the midst of final exams, and by the time they ended, I’d have to report for SIS training.
“You?”
“Traveling,” he answered.
“Where to?”
“Somewhere in the Mediterranean.”
“I envy you.” I’d thought about going to Italy anyway and surprising Pia, but after the disastrous way that turned out the last time, I decided against it.
I’d been at Fort Monckton for three weeks when I finally received a letter back from Pia. While she didn’t elaborate, she told me there were problems at Valentini and she wasn’t certain she’d be able to continue attending university.
I sneaked off and rang her number a couple of times, but wasn’t successful in reaching her. Not knowing when I’d have access to my mobile again, I left a message, saying I’d try again as soon as I could.
“Is everything okay?” Edge asked when I rejoined him in the dining hall.
“I fear not.” I couldn’t explain why, but I had a feeling there was something very wrong in Tuscany. I reached into my pocket and touched Pia’s heart-shaped stone, praying I wasn’t right.
Six months sped by, and before I knew it, Edge and I were getting ready to graduate from SIS training. While we didn’t have our initial assignments yet, we were informed we’d have a minimum of fourteen days’ leave before we’d have to report to wherever the British Army chose to send us.
“Gentlemen, a word,” said our commanding officer as we were headed to pack up and check out. He led us into a conference room and closed the door.
“I’m sorry to do this now, but I have your orders.”
I looked at Edge, who had the same worried expression I did.
“There’s a situation in Central Iraq, in the city of Najaf. We’ve received intelligence indicating that certain members of the Iraqi military, supposedly our allies, have been systematically taking out coalition service members. Given your ages and recent military training, sending you both in on this mission makes a great deal of sense.”
“What is the mission exactly?” asked Edge.
“It’ll be your job to find and eliminate them.”
I hated asking, but I had to know. “When do we report?”
He scrubbed his face with his hand. “You ship out to Baghdad in five days. Again, I’m sorry about the timing of this.”
Once dismissed, I raced out of the main office and to my room. I’d told Edge he could ride back to London with my dad and me, but I was in no mood to wait. Somehow, I had to see Pia. Had to. I didn’t care if it was only for a few hours.
“Listen, I know we talked about riding back to London together,” I began when Edge walked in and sat on the bed.
He held up his hand. “Do what you need to do, Grind. I’ll get a lift back with one of the other guys.”
“Sorry, mate.”
“Don’t be. I’ll see you in five days.”
I rang Pia, hoping against all odds she’d answer, and she did.
“I’m sorry to be abrupt, but where are you?”
“I’m at Valentini. How are you, Mylos?”
“I’m deploying on a secret mission in five days.” I heard her gasp. “Sweetheart, I need you to tell me whether or not I should come to Italy.”
“Can you? Do you have time?”
“I can be on the next flight out to Florence.”
“I’ll be at the airport, waiting.”
“Pia…”
“Whatever it is, say it, Mylos.”
“I need you.”
“I need you, too.”
Four hours later, I raced out of customs at the Florence airport and into Pia’s waiting arms. My heart raced as I touched her warm, open lips with my tongue, and the rest of the world went silent. There were no more birds singing, no sounds of the traffic that surrounded us. Even the wind stilled as I focused solely on the way her body shuddered as I brushed soft kisses from her mouth, down her neck, to the smattering of freckles on her bare shoulder.
“Tell me there’s somewhere we can be alone.”
“Sì,” she said, leading me outside to where a car sat waiting. “Do you want to know where we’re going?”
I shook my head. “I don’t care.”
When the driver opened the back door and we got in, I pulled her into my arms and devoured her mouth like a starving man. We spent the next hour with our lips fused together in one long kiss.
The driver pulled up to what looked like a resort. I got out and waited for Pia to put her hand in mine. I pulled her close and kissed her again. “I can’t get enough of you.”
“Come,” she said as I grabbed our bags from the driver and followed her down a walkway to a villa that looked like a miniature of the one at Valentini.
Once inside, she put her hands on the hem of my shirt; I grabbed the back and pulled it over my head.
“Santa Madre di Dio.” She rested her hand on my bare torso, leaned up, and kissed me.
“Pia,” I breathed. “If you want me to stop…tell me now.”
She wound her fingers in my hair and pulled me closer. My blood throbbed, and my heart beat frantically in my chest. All at once, I felt like we were melting into each other, our two bodies dissolving into one.
She reached up and slid her dress off her shoulders. It floated to the wood floor, landing in a heap at our feet and leaving her naked but for her pale pink knickers.
“Touch me,” she demanded, bringing my hand to her breast. I couldn’t resist a taste. My mouth covered her nipple, and we both groaned. Her skin taste
d like the sweetest honey; I wanted to lick her everywhere.
My lips trailed from her breast down the soft swell of her stomach. I lowered myself to my knees and pulled her body close to mine, breathing in her arousal. I gripped the fabric that was a thin barrier between my mouth and her sex and pulled it down her legs.
She took a step back, leaving them on the floor near her dress and held her hand out to me. I followed her up the stairs to the second level, my eyes glued to her ass and the way it moved, showing me just a glimpse between her legs before closing again. I put my hands on her hips, needing to touch her somewhere. When she stopped halfway up, I leaned forward and kissed her sweet ass cheek before sinking my teeth into her flesh.
She giggled and picked up her pace, running the rest of the way to the second floor. I chased after her. When she reached the bed, her playfulness dissolved into breathlessness.
“Wait,” she said, climbing onto the bed and resting against the pillows. “Let me see you.”
“My God, Pia,” I groaned when she spread her legs and rested her hand on the glistening hair between them.
“Show me. Let me see you, Mylos.” Her body writhed as I unfastened my zipper and lowered it, letting my shorts fall, and as I did, my cock sprang forth. Pia gasped and held her hand out to me.
“Let me touch you.”
I knew that if she did, the first orgasm she and I shared would be by her touch. I wanted more than that, for both of us.
Instead, I knelt between her legs and ran my fingertips from the back of her knees up the inside of her thighs. I splayed my fingers, spreading her wider, opening her more. “I need to see you first.”
I shifted so I was on my stomach, moving so close I could almost touch her with my tongue. Instead, I studied her pink flesh. Unable to resist, I kissed her.
Her fingers were back in my hair, pulling now instead of just gripping. “Mylos, please,” she whined.
I ran one finger from the top of her wetness, through her folds, and sunk it into her warmth. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I moaned, thinking of how my cock would feel when it was in the same place my finger was.
Grinded (The Invincibles Book 3) Page 4
