Year of Living Blonde (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 1)

by Simonne, Andrea

  It’s Lindsay.

  Natalie groans. It figures.

  And, of course, Lindsay’s walking right toward them.

  Giovanni is openly staring at her sister now, a smirk on his face. He obviously thinks she’s coming for him.

  “Congratulations, Anthony!” Lindsay says when she’s finally up to them.

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t you two look cozy,” she refers to Natalie, who is still sitting on Anthony’s lap.

  “Where’s Blair?” Natalie asks.

  “Oh, she ran into someone who used to be in her sorority.”

  Lindsay glances casually over at Giovanni. Her gaze lingers, but then she pointedly turns away. “I’m going to go dance. Can I leave my drink here?”

  And then she’s gone.

  Giovanni studies her departure with raised eyebrows. He puts his drink down and gets up. Pink Lip Gloss is still talking to him, but he ignores her. “I’ll see you two later,” he tells them and then disappears into the crowd.

  Natalie turns to Anthony. “I think he’s going after my sister.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  She’s not sure which one of them to be more concerned about.

  Anthony is studying her. “The mayor came up to me tonight after I won the medal. I thought he was going to congratulate me, but do you know what he said instead? He told me I have a smoking hot girlfriend.”

  Natalie laughs, embarrassed, though not entirely surprised. “Really? What did you say?”

  “I said, I know.” Anthony drains his scotch and sets the glass down. “I’m ready to get out of here.” His lips brush her ear as he whispers, “I want to be alone with my smoking hot girlfriend.”

  Sitting in the back of the limo on the way to their hotel, Natalie texts Lindsay and Blair to let them know she’s left. “Do you want to tell Giovanni we’re leaving?” she asks Anthony.

  “He’ll figure it out.”

  Natalie checks messages and discovers another text from Peter.

  She stares at it with surprise.

  Thinking of you. Need to talk about something important.

  “What is it?” Anthony says.

  “Nothing.”

  “You got another text from that testa di cazzo didn’t you?”

  “What’s a testa di cazzo?”

  “Let me see your phone.” The limo changes lanes to get onto the Interstate. “I want to see what he said.”

  Natalie hesitates, but then hands it over.

  Anthony’s jaw tightens as he reads it.

  “I have no idea what he wants,” Natalie says as the car picks up speed. “Why the sudden change?”

  “I already told you. I know exactly what he wants,” Anthony growls. “He wants you back.”

  “No, he doesn’t. He has Lena.”

  Anthony shakes his head then thumbs something in, pushes send before she can stop him.

  “What did you just do?” Natalie grabs her phone in annoyance. “You can’t send messages without asking me.”

  “Someone needs to set him straight.”

  Natalie finds the text Anthony sent Peter from her. It says, Fuck off, asshole.

  “Seriously? What are you thinking?” Natalie stares at him in frustration. “Now I’ll to have to apologize.”

  “Don’t apologize. Not after the way he’s treated you.”

  Natalie is quiet. “He’s still Chloe’s dad and I have to deal with him on a regular basis. I’m trying to be civil.”

  Anthony leans forward to pour himself a drink from the limo’s bar. “There are limits to civility.”

  She brings up the thread on her phone and starts typing in an apology to Peter, figuring she might as well get it over with. She spins a story about someone else getting hold of her phone, but doesn’t mention who.

  Anthony leans back and tenses when he sees what she’s doing. “You better not be apologizing.”

  Natalie ignores him and continues her text. The next thing she knows, Anthony is opening his side window. Cold air rushes in. Suddenly, he grabs the phone from her hands. “Hey!” she says. And then without hesitation, he throws it outside.

  “Oh, my God!” she shrieks. “What are you doing?!”

  “I’m solving a problem.” The glass slides shut and they’re encapsulated once more.

  “You’re crazy!” She’s practically standing in her seat now, trying to see where it landed. They’re driving in the diamond lane on the freeway, headed toward downtown Seattle, and her phone is now lying somewhere on the side of the road in pieces.

  “I can’t believe you did that!”

  “I’ll buy you another phone.”

  “You better!” She stares at the drink in his hand. “Are you drunk? Is that it?”

  He rolls his eyes. “No, I’m not drunk. I’ve had two fingers of scotch all night.”

  “You should stop drinking anyway.”

  Anthony sneers. “Guess what, Natalie? Unlike your mammone ex-husband, I don’t take orders from you and I definitely don’t want you to be my mother.”

  She glares at him. “I should throw your phone out the window.”

  They spend the rest of the limousine ride in silence. Natalie is furious. By the time they get to their hotel lobby, she decides she’s had enough and tells him, “I’m calling Lindsay or Blair to come pick me up. I’m not staying the night with you.”

  “Why not just call Peter? I’ll bet he’d love to come get you.”

  She lets out a shaky breath. “What on Earth has gotten into you? I don’t want to call Peter.”

  Anthony is silent. Brooding. “Let’s not have this conversation in the lobby.”

  Natalie goes with him up to the room, figuring she has to get her stuff anyway. Her overnight bag with a change of clothes is upstairs. Maya brought everything over and checked them in earlier.

  The room is fantastic, a full suite done in tasteful pastel colors, soft lights, and elegant furnishings. Not a garish orange bedspread in sight. There’s a big basket of fruit and cheese on a table. There’s also a bottle of champagne with two glasses and gourmet chocolates from a local chocolatier Natalie admires.

  If they weren’t having a fight, this would be amazing.

  Searching for her bag, she finally finds it in the bedroom.

  Anthony comes in, but she pointedly ignores him as she takes off her gold-chained purse, shoves it inside the bag then searches for jeans and a T-shirt to change into. She’s angry, but hurt, too. He’s acting like a jerk.

  Suddenly she feels the weight of his hands on her hips. “Don’t go,” he says.

  “Leave me alone.” She shoves his hands away.

  “Please . . . don’t go,” he whispers.

  Natalie stills. His tone is low and there’s something so utterly wretched in his voice. “Are you really that jealous of Peter?”

  “Yes.”

  She turns around to face him. “There’s no reason to be.”

  “Maybe not. But you didn’t see the way he was looking at you.” He pauses. “And I know you once loved him.”

  “Even if what you’re saying is true, I don’t want him back.” She puts her hands on his solid shoulders. He’s still wearing his tux with a loosened bow tie. Despite her anger, he’s so handsome it’s painful. “This night is special for you. We should be celebrating right now. Not fighting.”

  “Don’t go back to him. Tell me you won’t.”

  “Anthony, I’m not going back to Peter.”

  His eyes are dark, imploring. For a moment, he looks completely vulnerable and Natalie’s anger melts away. She’s never seen him like this. But then something shifts and his eyes turn fierce. His hands grip her waist, pulling her in tight.

  “I’m not giving you up!”

  And then his mouth is on hers. Hot and demanding. Wanting things from her, things that go beyond their bodies. Electrifying the air.

  She lets him ravage her mouth, her hands sliding through his thick hair, clutching those dark waves, al
ways so surprising in their softness.

  A moan escapes her when he dips his head and buries his face in her cleavage. Ribbons of desire unravel inside her and she can feel the last of her resistance slip away.

  Anthony draws back. Their eyes meet and Natalie still sees a glimmer of vulnerability. But then he turns her around, so her back is to him. He pushes her hair aside, exposing her neck, and she assumes he’s going to unzip her, but instead, his hands are grabbing and pulling up bunches of fabric from her dress, trying to get at what’s beneath.

  “What are you wearing?” he asks when he finally encounters her shapewear. “Take all this off.”

  Natalie suppresses an embarrassed laugh. She reaches under her dress and tries to wiggle and peel all that nylon down. Anthony starts tugging at it, too, cursing with impatience.

  “Damn, this stuff is like armor.”

  When it’s finally removed, he stands behind her again. His mouth at her ear. “Where were we?”

  Then he’s pulling up her dress, except this time, she’s naked beneath.

  Natalie feels his hands on her hips then his fingers brush lightly between her thighs. She gasps softly when they dip inside. Her stomach goes tight. He’s pressing his body into her from behind and she can feel his erection, a hard column beneath his slacks.

  “This is how I want you, Miss Natalie,” he says, his breath choppy. “Just like this.”

  She wants him, too. Any way she can have him. Natalie feels his hand behind her working his zipper.

  “Get on your knees on the bed,” he breathes. She does as he asks and then his cock is pressing right at her center. His hand tightens around her waist. “This is going to be so good,” he growls. And then without further preamble, he thrusts into her. She gasps from the pleasure. It’s hard and perfect. Exquisite.

  Her fingers reach out, grasping at the bed’s duvet, trying to steady herself.

  “You’re mine,” he says. “Tell me you’re mine.”

  Natalie moans, her body overwhelmed with sensation. She shouldn’t like this terrible side of Anthony. This possessiveness. But it speaks to something in her she didn’t even know existed, something that wants him wild.

  He slips his hand between her legs to where they’re joined. Stroking just where she needs it, the tension builds quickly. But then his fingers stop and she squirms and moans in frustration.

  “Say you belong to me.”

  Natalie is so aroused, it takes a moment to register his meaning. They’re both panting, but Anthony has slowed his movements, waiting.

  “Tell me what I want to hear,” he demands softly.

  “It’s you,” she says finally. “Only you I belong to.”

  He moves inside her again. “That’s right,” he says. “That’s so right.”

  Then his fingers are between her legs again and she’s giving in to it. Anthony starts speaking Italian as he increases the pace. She doesn’t understand his words, but understands the passion in his voice. When he finally pulls her in tightly, groaning, so does she—the two of them meeting ecstasy together.

  Afterward, they collapse on the bed, trying to catch their breath, recovering. Natalie notices something different this time, though—she feels wet between her thighs.

  Understanding dawns on her. “You didn’t use a condom?”

  “I forgot.”

  She looks over at him. He’s lying on his back, eyes closed, still breathing hard.

  “You forgot?”

  He nods. “You’re on the pill, anyway.”

  “You never forget anything, Anthony. You have a photographic memory.”

  He doesn’t reply at first, but then finally turns his head to look at her—his eyes the color of a rich ganache. He licks his lips. “You were right about what you said. I worry about losing control a lot, and it’s time I stopped.”

  Natalie stares at him. A sense of unease settles over her.

  “What is it?” he asks, frowning. “You’re still on the pill, right?”

  She takes a deep breath. “I am, but I’ve sort of missed one recently.”

  Anthony’s eyes widen as he sits up abruptly on his elbows. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I’m not. I’ve been busy and I’ve never taken the pill for birth control, anyway,” she says in an even voice, trying to stay calm. “Peter had a vasectomy. I started taking the pill to manage PMS, so I don’t get migraines.”

  He stares at her in disbelief.

  “I didn’t think it was any big deal.”

  “No big deal?”

  “You’re always so careful about condoms,” she continues, starting to feel nervous. “How was I to know you changed your mind?”

  Anthony continues to stare at her. Then to her surprise, instead of being angry, he starts to laugh. He sits up all the way, still laughing and shaking his head. “I don’t believe this,” he says. “Unbelievable.”

  She watches him get off the bed and kick his pants off. Remove his shirt. His body is so muscular and beautifully proportioned that it’s hard to pull her eyes away. He’s still chuckling.

  “You’re not angry?”

  “Come here.” He motions to her. “I’ll unzip you.”

  She gets up and stands in front of him. “It doesn’t mean I’ll necessarily get pregnant or anything. The odds are very small.”

  “I know all about the odds.” He helps her step out of the gown and takes her bra off, too.

  Standing before him, she realizes she doesn’t feel shy anymore being nude around him. He’s freed her of that. Anthony always makes her feel beautiful.

  Even now, she watches as his eyes roam over her with obvious approval.

  “You’re handling this really well,” she tells him.

  “Let’s get in bed.” There’s a tender smile on his face.

  They climb under the sheets together and settle under the hotel’s puffy white duvet, surrounded by pillows, and it’s like sinking into a cool cloud.

  Natalie tries to understand what’s happening. He threw her phone out the window for texting Peter, but is calm now, when he hears they just had sex without birth control?

  “These sheets are incredible,” Anthony says, relaxing on his back. “My ass approves.”

  She rolls onto her side so she can see his face. His whole demeanor is surprisingly mellow.

  “I can’t believe you’re not more upset.”

  He shrugs. “What’s done is done.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  Anthony puts his hand up and strokes her hair in that way he does. “I realized something tonight when I was onstage, scared witless, giving that terrible speech.”

  “Your speech wasn’t terrible.”

  “Give me a break.” He rolls his eyes. “I should have prepared something in advance. That was ridiculous.”

  “You didn’t know you were going to win the medal. And your speech was fine.”

  He chuckles. “Why are you defending me all of a sudden? You usually don’t let me get away with anything.”

  Natalie puts her hand to his cheek, trails her fingers along the dark stubble on his jaw. “I know, but you’re being so hard on yourself. You deserve to be happy tonight.”

  “Even though I threw your phone out the window?”

  Her fingers still and her eyes flash to his.

  “I’m really sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “You’re right. You shouldn’t have. I still can’t believe you did it.”

  “Can you forgive me?”

  Natalie thinks about what a crazy night it’s been and decides not to dwell on it. “Yes, but I want a new phone. And it better be fantastic.”

  “I promise it’ll be kick-ass.”

  “I’m baking your phone in one of our ovens if it’s not.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  They’re gazing at each other, smiling, but then Anthony’s smile slips away. He sits up in bed, leaning back against the pillows.

  “What
is it?” she asks, looking up at him with growing concern.

  “Do you remember when you asked me how many women I’ve been in love with?”

  Natalie nods, wondering where he’s going with this. “You said you fell in love easily.”

  “No, I didn’t say that.” He pauses. His eyes go to the window and he seems to be searching for a way to say something. “The truth is, I’ve never been in love.”

  Natalie raises her eyebrows. “Never?”

  “No.”

  She considers his words. “I’m surprised, especially after all the women you’ve been with. And what about your marriage to Nicole?”

  “It’s why we got divorced. I could never tell her I loved her.”

  Natalie is quiet, considering this. She feels real sympathy for Nicole. It would be unbearable to stay married to a man who didn’t love you.

  “I’ve never said it to any woman,” he continues. “I’ve just never felt it and I didn’t want to lie.”

  She takes his hand. “It doesn’t mean you won’t feel it for someone eventually.”

  Anthony’s eyes meet hers. “Until now.”

  “What?”

  He lets out a deep breath. “I love you, Natalie.”

  Natalie doesn’t say it back. Anthony didn’t expect her to, though he hoped she would.

  “I can’t believe it’s finally happened to me,” he says, plowing his hand through his hair. “Now I get why people act so crazy when they’re in love.”

  There’s a stunned expression on Natalie’s face. “You’re really in love with me?”

  “Yes.”

  She bites her lip and smiles. “Why me? Of all the women you’ve dated, you have to admit, I’m a peculiar choice.”

  He could name a hundred reasons why he loves Natalie, but all of them amount to the same thing. She makes him happy. It feels natural being with her.

  “Who knows?” he jokes. “I’ll be damned if I can figure it out.”

  She gives him a playful shove. “What kind of response is that?”

  “Hey, it’s not like you’re saying it back to me or anything.”

  Natalie grows quiet. She moves up closer to him on the bed, then kisses him softly. “Just give me a little more time, okay?”

  Anthony nods, his heart in his throat. He’s not used to feeling this vulnerable. “I’ll do that.” He pulls her leg over, so she’s straddling him and they’re face-to-face. His hands slide down her hips and ass, her skin like silk. He’s already getting turned on again, but tries to push it aside for now. “Do you really think you could fall in love with me?” he asks.