The Muscle Part Three

by Michelle St. James

  He scooted back from the table on impulse, then held out a hand to her.

  She looked at it, then up at him. “What?”

  “We’re going out.” He glanced at Marco and Elia. “All of us.”

  Elia downed the rest of his wine and let out a whoop. “You don’t have to tell me me twice!”

  “I don’t know…” Isabel looked nervously around, like she was afraid someone might see her even thinking about enjoying herself.

  Luca softened his voice. “You’re not doing her any good here, sweetheart. You’ve been cooped up in this house too long. The change of scenery will do you good.” He smiled. “Besides, I know this perfect hotel bar on the beach.”

  A little of the lost light came back into her eyes as the corners of her mouth turned up into a smile. It was like storm clouds parting after a long rain, the sun finally breaking through to warm the cold, wet ground.

  “I think I know the one you’re talking about.”

  4

  The hotel bar on the beach was busy, full of tourists and business people in town for conventions and conferences. Isabel sat with Luca, Marco, and Elia, watching the way they laughed and talked, giving each other a hard time and reminiscing about old jobs and old friends. She felt a little guilty watching them. They seemed young and carefree, absent the hardness that she’d grown accustomed to since Diego’s disappearance with Sofia. This is how they should be all the time. They were only so serious, so worried, because they’d gotten caught up in her life.

  Luca laughed at something Elia said, and she felt the vibration of it all the way in her toes. She loved his laugh. She’d heard too little of it since she’d met him — first because they’d tiptoed around their feelings for each other, later because they’d been on guard around Diego, and more recently because of Sofia’s absence. She hoped she’d get to experience life without something horrible or tragic hanging over their heads. Hoped she’d get to hear him laugh first thing in the morning and again before they went to sleep.

  He looked over at her, caught her watching him.

  “What?” he said.

  She watched him touch the beer bottle to his mouth, tip it, and drink. His lips were full and wet, and her belly tightened, the space between her legs growing wet as she thought about how they felt against the throbbing heat of her sex.

  She smiled. “Nothing.”

  He returned her grin. “I know that look. That isn’t nothing.”

  She reached under the tall bar table, ran her hand along his jean-clad thigh. His muscles were taut under the denim, and the scent of him — musk and something like eucalyptus — made her head spin.

  She leaned in, gave him a long, lingering kiss. “I just like looking at you,” she said, her mouth inches from his.

  He groaned a little. “And if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to sweep you off into some dark corner and have my way with you.”

  “I might not complain,” she murmured, inching her hand farther up his thigh toward the visible bulge between his legs. The sight of it made her even wetter, and she marveled that with everything that was happening — all her anger at Diego and her fear for Sofia — she could still feel such sweeping lust. It was the kind of lust that set her blood boiling, that obliterated everything else with its heat. Even when she went to bed full of fear, tears threatening to spill over so she had to turn away from Luca in the bed they now shared, one touch from him was all it took to light the fire that seemed to smolder constantly for him.

  He leaned in, captured her mouth with his, ran his tongue along her lower lip before taking it between his teeth and tugging. She moaned, touching her hand to his neck as she swept his mouth with her tongue, her panties already soaked from the simple contact.

  “Get a room!” Elia shouted.

  She pulled away, her cheeks hot. She was still getting used to the easy familiarity of the men Luca called friends. To the way they teased him like a brother and watched over her like a sister. It was an unfamiliar camaraderie, and after months fearing the men who worked with Diego, she had finally come to understand that these were men of a different breed.

  Just as fierce, but fair and honorable.

  “Shut it,” Luca said. He took her hand and whispered in her ear. “Want to go for a walk?”

  She nodded, sliding off the bar stool.

  “Catch you on the flip side,” Luca said.

  “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!” Elia said.

  “Which is basically nothing,” Marco added.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Luca laughed. He tried to sound annoyed, but Isabel heard the warmth in it, felt his affection for the two men who had put their lives on hold to help him.

  To help her.

  They headed away from the crowded bar, walking toward the roar of the ocean in the darkness. The beach was empty except for a couple heading back toward the hotel and a lone woman staring out to sea from a rise in the sand. Luca took Isabel’s hand and led her away from the bright lights of the hotel, down to where the water rushed close to their feet.

  He bent in front of her, and she was momentarily confused until he placed one big hand around her calf.

  “Lift,” he commanded.

  She did, and he slipped off her sandal, then did the same with the other one. When he stood, he handed her the shoes and took off his own, then led her down to the waves breaking against the shore.

  The water was already warm, the sand soft between her toes. After the last month of being cooped up in the house, tense twenty-four hours a day as she waited for word about Sofia, she had to resist the urge to sigh when her feet sunk into the soft, wet sand.

  Luca looked down at her and smiled like he could read her thoughts. “Good?”

  She nodded and closed her hands around his giant bicep, leaned against his arm. “Good.”

  They walked in silence, the hotel lights and music from the bar receding behind them. When they were well into the shadows near a small cove, Luca stopped.

  “Let’s sit.”

  They dropped onto the sand just beyond the rushing waves. The moon was full and high, casting a column of light on the water from the horizon almost all the way to shore. Isabel wondered about all the people around the world doing just this — sitting on a beach somewhere, looking out to sea, feeling small in a way that was somehow comforting. It didn’t lessen the pain of being without Sofia, of not knowing if she was okay or if Diego was treating her well, but she felt the tiniest spark of comfort at the thought that she wasn’t alone. Luca had been right, she’d needed the change of scenery. She exhaled, then inhaled the briny air and exhaled again.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  He put his arm around her and squeezed. “You’re welcome.”

  He hesitated, and she had the sense that he wanted to say something else. It was another revelation — that she could know someone so well. That he could know her just as well.

  “What is it, querido?” she asked him.

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  She reached up and placed a palm against his cheek, turned his face toward her. “That doesn’t look like nothing.”

  He smiled, then looked out to sea. “I was going to apologize, but then I realized you’d only feel the need to comfort me, so in the end it would be selfish. I don’t want you to comfort me. I want to comfort you.”

  “You do that every day, Luca,” she said softly. “But what reason could you possibly have to apologize?”

  If he hadn’t come to work for her brother, she’d still be living as a prisoner, still believe there was no way out for her and Sofia. It was true that Sofia was gone, but that wasn’t Luca’s doing. And in some ways it had rallied a strength in her she hadn’t known she had and made her more determined than ever to fight.

  He reached down into the sand, scooped up a handful, and let it sift through his fingers. “I should have found her by now. Brought her back to you.”

  There was so much she wanted to say. So many
things she wanted to ask. She had the feeling his sense of guilt wasn’t simply about Sofia. That he’d always taken on too much, made himself responsible for everything that happened around him. She had a feeling it had something to do with his childhood, but he had yet to open up to her about it, or about anything having to do with his upbringing. She knew he’d had a rough time of it, that he’d been on his own until Nico took him into the Vitale crime family, but that was all he’d been willing to share. It hurt her heart to think of him bearing the burden alone, or worse, being too ashamed to tell her about his background, but she knew he would tell her when he was ready. Pushing him would only hurt him, and that was the last thing she would ever do.

  “Luca…” She squeezed his arm. “This isn’t your fault. Haven’t Marco and Elia asked every source they have about Diego? Haven’t you?”

  “That’s not the point,” he said, his jaw tightening.

  “It is the point,” she insisted. “You’re doing all you can. It’s all anyone can expect.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  She got on her knees, turned his face toward her again, and tenderly kissed him. “It’s enough for me.”

  He was careful at first, responding gently to her kiss, but a moment later she slipped her tongue into his mouth and he groaned, his hand snaking into the hair at the back of her neck as he tilted her head to take the kiss deeper. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her upper body against his, thrilling at the feel of his hard chest against her breasts, her nipples already taut, ready for his hands and mouth.

  It was a kind of euphoria, the kind she only used to feel when she was doing something crazy — something that would make Diego mad and make her feel alive. But she hadn’t needed to do any of that since she’d met Luca. He made her feel all kinds of alive, lit a fire in the center of her body that burned only for him, that only grew larger and hotter each time her naked body was pressed against his. He was enough, but the memory of her former desperation made her want to do something unexpected just for the fun of it. Here there was no one to tell her she was behaving like a whore. No one to tell her she was acting crazy.

  She pulled away and stood, then stripped off her dress as she headed for the water.

  “What are you doing?” he asked behind her.

  She looked at him over one shoulder while she unhooked her bra. “Going swimming. Are you coming?”

  She didn’t keep watching to see if he would answer, but a moment later he was beside her, his body naked in all its beautiful, muscular glory. He looked like a Roman god, with impressive lean muscle in all the right places. His shoulders were twice the width of her body, his pecs smooth and hard, tapering to rippled abs that her tongue knew only too well. Below them, a trail of dark hair led the way to his impressive cock, and she had a sudden memory of him poised at her entrance, his crown thick and wide as he drove into her.

  She turned back to the water and rushed headlong into the waves, knowing it would do little to cool the heat already boiling in her body. She shrieked as a wave crashed near her, then dove under the next one. When she came up, Luca was next to her, his blue eyes shining like shards of sea glass in the moonlight, water beading his shoulders.

  “Feeling dangerous tonight, are we?” he asked.

  There was no malice in the question. None of the hidden meaning that always laced Diego’s words. In fact, he was smiling a little, like he might actually enjoy this side of her — probably because he hadn’t had to dive unwittingly into a swimming pool to save her this time.

  “Maybe a little,” she said, letting a small wave buoy her body off the ocean floor as it swelled under them.

  He reached for her, and she laced her legs around his waist, wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Not because you need to feel free, I hope,” he said.

  She shook her head, kissed him gently and tasted the salt on his lips. “No, my love. Because I already feel free. I already feel alive.”

  She felt like a traitor saying it. Sofia was still out there somewhere with Diego. maybe she was scared or hungry, or god forbid, even hurt. It wasn’t right that Isabel should have even a moment’s pleasure before her sister was brought safely home.

  Luca reached up, smoothed her hair. “It’s good that you feel free,” he said. “You can’t be miserable all day, every day. Sofia wouldn’t want it, and it doesn’t do her any good anyway.”

  “Worrying about her is all I can do for her,” Isabel said sadly. “When I’m not doing it, it feels like I’m doing nothing.”

  “You’re doing everything that matters,” he said. “You’re sticking around, waiting for her to come home. Making sure you're there when she does. Not everyone would do that after everything you’ve been through. Sofia is with her big brother. One of her legal guardians. Plenty of people would take their chance to get away while they could.”

  “I would never leave without Sofia,” she said fiercely.

  “Which is one of the many things that makes you amazing. Now stop being so hard on yourself. Besides, you dragged me out here into the ocean naked. I demand that you enjoy it.”

  She laughed a little as another wave rolled under them, and Luca’s hands cupped her ass, holding her securely as she locked her legs around him. She felt the press of his erection, long and hard against her clit. The sensation was erotic — the water moving under them in primal rhythm, his manhood jutting perilously close to her already wet pussy, their slightly shallow breathing.

  He tugged on her ass cheeks, spreading her a little until his cock nestled against her folds, the tip pressing against her clit. She moved against him instinctively, seeking out the source of her pleasure by moving him up and down against the tiny bundle of nerves.

  He dropped his mouth to her neck, and she dropped her head back, letting the water capture the long strands of her hair as his breath blew softly against her collarbone, her legs still locked around his steely hips.

  “Luca…”

  “What is it, baby?” he asked. “Tell me what you want.”

  She’d passed the point of being surprised by the question. It was one he asked most often in his attempt to teach her about her body, to rid her of the shame Diego had saddled her with in the wake of the assault he’d orchestrated, then video taped to use as blackmail. Now she thrilled a little in the question, in knowing that she could tell him every dirty thing she wanted and he wouldn’t flinch. Her words would only arouse him further, make him harder and more ready for her.

  “I want you to put your fingers inside me,” she said as he trailed kisses up her neck.

  “Yeah?” He continued without waiting for her response, his voice a murmur against the corner of her mouth. “I bet you’re already soaking wet for me, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she moaned, wiggling her hips, half-hoping his cock would plunge inside her instead.

  He held onto her ass with one hand while the other one slipped between their bodies. She felt the loss of his cock against her, but it was replaced a moment later by his hand, cupping her pussy like it was something to treasure while he found her clit with his thumb.

  Her head fell back again of its own accord, eyes closing as he made circles around the little bud, the water as calm and warm as a giant bath. The large waves had been replaced by a set of smaller ones, each one lifting their bodies the slightest bit as it made its way to shore. It was a primeval rhythm, one matched by the slow stroke of his thumb against her clit until she felt the rumble of her orgasm build at the center of her body, a warning of what was to come.

  He stopped circling her clit and slipped his fingers between her folds. She moaned from the exquisite pleasure of it, then gasped when he slid two fingers inside her.

  “You’re so hot, baby,” he murmured. “So wet.”

  “It’s for you,” she said, moving on his fingers, letting the water do some of the work as she matched his pace. “All for you.”

  He lowered his head to one breast, the nipple hard and peaked
with her arousal, water beading the plump flesh of her breast. A moment later his mouth, warm and moist, closed around it while he continued fucking her with his fingers.

  “Luca…” She let her body sink lower, wanting his fingers all the way inside her.

  He raked her nipple with his teeth, then soothed it with gentle laps of his tongue before taking the whole thing in his mouth and sucking until she arched her back.

  She wanted more. All of it. All of him. Everything.

  She lifted her head. “I need you inside me.”

  “I am inside you,” he teased.

  She met his gaze, fierce and intent in the moonlight. “I need your cock inside me, Luca.”

  He slid his fingers out of her and positioned her ass over his head, then captured her lips with his mouth as he plunged into her. Her cry of pleasure was muffled by the hunger in his kiss, and he sucked on her tongue as he drove into her again, then nibbled on her lower lip as he dragged his cock out of her. They were working with the sea now, their timing every bit as primal as the tide moving around them. She tightened her thighs around his hips, then sunk deep onto his massive shaft as he drove into her again.

  He growled. “Fuck, Isabel…”

  He moved faster, the gentle rush of waves to shore a backdrop to their shallow breathing as he grew bigger and harder inside her, filling her wall to wall until she thought she might explode from the pleasure of it. It was so exquisite that it almost bordered on pain.

  Almost.

  But she didn’t want him to stop. It felt too good, his body rubbing her clit, the friction nudging her that much closer to the cliff of her orgasm as he pumped into her again and again.

  “Please,” she said, moving with him.