by Kathryn Shay
She gave him a Mona Lisa smile. “Yes, I do, Dante.”
“And it’s a conscious choice?”
“It is. I want to make love with you.”
He held her to him and pushed back the chair with his feet. He stood, carrying her in his arms. “That’s all I need to hear.”
Crossing the patio in a few long strides, Dante gestured for her to open the sliding doors. Once inside, he asked, “Where to?”
“Down the hall. Last door at the end.”
The feel of her against him made his whole body tight as he strode to the bedroom. The slatted blinds allowed in light but kept the space private. He walked to the bed and let her slide down him to stand. Every inch of her felt like heaven. His hands on her shoulders, he murmured, “I want to undress you.”
“I want that, too.”
At first, his fingers fumbled at the buttons of the peach blouse she wore. Beneath it, an underwire peach bra brimmed with her breasts. He kissed the swell of them, then popped the clasp. Leaning over, he took a nipple in his mouth, and tended to the other with his hand. Brie threw back her head and all that blond hair tickled his arm sensuously. “You feel so good. All of you.”
His hands went lower to the clasp of the zipper of her light-colored pants. When they were down to her ankles, he knelt and nuzzled all the skin he bared as he slowly slid off the rest of her clothing. Finally, his palm came to rest between her legs, which he parted. He cupped her soundly.
“Wait a sec.”
He looked up.
“I get to undress you.”
“You sure? I can do this...” he kissed her light curls, “...first.”
“I’m sure.”
He stood. Brie took her time unfastening his shirt, scraping her fingernails across his pecs, exploring until she got to his belt. This time she fumbled. “Shit.”
“Want some help?”
“No.” She got it undone and pushed his pants and blue briefs to his feet where he kicked them and his sandals off. She started to kneel, and he grasped her shoulders. “No, honey. I won’t last.”
A brow arched, like an imp’s. “We could do it this way. First.” She parroted his suggestion.
“No.”
“All right.” She reached into the nightstand. Pulled out protection. “I got these.”
He whispered in her ear, “I brought some, too, just in case.”
Ripping open a foil back, she took the condom and slid it over him. Once sheathed, he pulsed even harder into her grasp. She climbed in bed and situated herself in the middle. He crawled in beside her and stretched out facing her. She leaned into him and whispered, “Now, Dante.”
He pulled her leg over his. The intimacy of the gesture excited her. Gently, he probed her opening and plunged into her.
The feel of him throbbing inside her ignited her. It had been so long since she’d felt this, and she welcomed the loving invasion. He tipped her chin and, holding her gaze, he thrust into her fully. And she stopped thinking.
Just experienced.
Just enjoyed.
“This okay?” he asked. “You said it’s been a while.”
“It’s wonderful.”
The pace sped up...and up...and up...until...she felt like she would burst apart.
She did. Sensation spiraled through her. Shattered her nerve endings. And kept going. Before she came down, she felt his spasms begin and gripped his arm tightly. As he plunged and plunged even harder, he murmured, “Brie. Love.”
She went up again, and the almost painful ecstasy eclipsed all sense of sanity.
* * *
Dante tipped up her chin. “Good?”
Brie was sweaty and her hair damp. “You know it was.”
“Hmm. For me, too.” He moved away, said, “I’ll be right back,” then slid out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, to dispose of the condom, she guessed.
Brie lay staring up at the ceiling fan. Her skin still tingled from his touch. Her heart still pounded for him. And she thanked her stars that this had happened. She wasn’t going to second-guess it. She would stay in the moment. When he came back into the room, he stood by the bed, scowling.
“What’s wrong?”
“The window in the bathroom is open.”
“The air conditioner’s on. It shouldn’t be.”
“It is.”
She frowned. “I guess I could have opened it to air the room out this morning after I showered. But I don’t remember doing that.”
He reached for his pants.
“Where are you going?”
“Outside to check.”
“For what?”
“For footprints.”
“What?”
“It’s dark now. Do you have a flashlight?”
“Next to the bed on your side.”
He grabbed it and disappeared.
And Brie came down to earth with a thud. So much for after-sex cuddling.
In five minutes, he returned.
“Did you find anything?”
“No footprints. But the grass outside your window is trampled like the peonies.”
“Maybe the same animal did it.”
“You think I’m making too much of this?”
“Well, it’s fine to be cautious. Maybe you need to spend the night with me.”
His brows arched in surprise. “Oh, yeah, I guess I should.”
She eyed him. “You didn’t make all that up to get that invitation, did you?”
He propped his hands on his hips. “I wouldn’t have to. My, um, performance speaks for itself.”
She laughed. “Okay, cowboy. Come back to bed and perform again.”
“Seriously, already?”
“Yep.”
Forgetting all about the open window, he grabbed another condom and joined her.
* * *
Dante woke up at dawn and watched Brie sleep. He still couldn’t believe he was here with her. Three weeks ago, she’d hardly speak to him. He pushed some blond locks off her forehead and slid a few strands between his fingers. Her eyes opened.
He saw questions in them. Then, “Good morning.”
“To you, too.”
“What time is it?”
“Dawn.”
“Too early.” Her eyes closed again.
“Okay.” Under the light covers they’d drawn up to ward off the air conditioner, his hand went to her butt, squeezed and pulled her closer. “Hmm.”
Then he cupped her. Her body bucked forward, but she kept her eyes closed and smiled lazily. He ground his hand into her, then sneaked two fingers inside.
“Dante.” She came fast, as he pushed and prodded.
When she quieted, he kissed her head. “Okay, go back to sleep.”
He started to turn over when he felt a hand clap on his leg. “Not so fast.”
* * *
Wearing a summer white robe and flip-flops, Brie lazed back in her chair on the patio and enjoyed the feel of the cool morning dew on her skin. Noise inside her house caught her attention. She sipped her coffee and thought back to the at-first tender and then the hot lovemaking last night and this morning. The memory of Dante’s masculine hand running down the inside of her thigh made her shiver even now.
“Here you go, princess.”Shirtless, he wore only blue fleece shorts he’d had in his gym bag in the trunk of his car.
“Stop teasing.” She lifted her mouth for a kiss, which he gave her then she glanced down at the cheesy omelet with home fries. “Wow, this is great. You can cook.”
“I told you so.” He set down a plate for himself and took a seat. “Mange!”
The egg mixture was fluffy and the home fries crisp. They ate with gusto, and in silence. When she’d devoured the food, she set her fork down then picked up the thermal carafe on the table and poured them more coffee.
He pushed away his plate and cocked his head. “How do you feel this morning?”
“Wonderful. You?”
“The same. No regrets?”
“Good.” His hair was askew, and locks fell into his forehead when he sat back. “I was thinking about the open window while I was cooking.”
“Why?”
“It bothers me.”
“As I said, I probably aired out the steam and forgot to close it.”
Now he held her gaze. “What if somebody tried to break in?”
Alarm shot through her. Then she forced herself to calm. “Let’s not go off the deep end.”
“I think we should call the police.”
“And say what? My window was open? I think I left it that way, but my lover doesn’t?”
“It does sound silly when you put it that way.”
“Dante, I told you before that you have an overprotective streak.”
“I know.”
“Do better with it.”
He recoiled.
“I’m sorry that came out sharply. It’s just that I’ve worked so hard to get past what happened to me. I had to struggle to find a way to depend on myself. There’s no room in my life for an overprotective man.”
He didn’t get mad like some men might have. Instead, he asked sincerely, “Is there room in your life for me, Brie?”
She said simply, “Yes.”
“Then I’ll do better.”
Chapter 8
Dante backed out of Brie’s driveway, wishing he could spend the day with her. But the girls wanted the day off, so he and a mechanic who often subbed were on duty at Federico’s Collision. As he drove through the streets to Brightwood, about twenty minutes away, he had to force himself not to think about last night. He’d never get there safely!
So he thought about the open window.
And then he remembered the trampled flowers on the lawn next to the driveway. Were they related? He reached work, opened up and went to the office to work on the books, a never-ending job. But he couldn’t concentrate.
“Hel-lo,” he heard from in the garage.
Dante walked out and found his cousin Joey in the bay. “Hey, buddy.”
“Hey. You said to come in and check out that rattle in my engine.”
“Let’s go look.” He walked out behind Joey to his classic 1979 Corvette. “Turn on the engine.” Dante lifted the hood and checked wires and spark plugs and tinkered with a variety of other things. “I think it’s a loose heat shield.”
“Is that a big deal?”
“No, because it’s accessible from here. I can both hear and see it. Go ahead and turn the car off.” When it was safe, Dante tightened the heat shield. Then he said to Joe, “You should get a new one. Let me order the part, and I’ll replace this one when it comes in. This should hold you until then.”
Joe reached for his wallet. “How much, buddy?”
“Don’t insult me.”
“At least let me pay for the part.”
“At cost.” He made a spilt-second decision. “Do you have a minute, though? Because you’re a cop, I want to talk about something.”
“Sure. I’m off today.”
They sat in the back office with Cokes. Dante asked, “If you were at somebody’s house and one night saw flowers trampled out front, then another night, a window in the bathroom was open and she doesn’t remember doing that, what would you think?”
“Deer for the flowers. Forgetfulness for the window. Sometimes, the simplest answer is the correct one.” Joe frowned. “However, if she was my girl, I’d worry it could be more.”
Damn.
“Is she your girl?”
“Yeah, I guess she is.”
“Want me to check it out officially?”
“No. She’ll have a fit I even asked. She thinks I’m being overprotective.”
“She knows you pretty well, then.”
“Shut up.”
“Seriously, my advice is to keep an eye on this. If something else happens, call the local police.”
“Sound advice.” Which he’d take. The last thing he wanted was to piss off Brie.
No, the last thing you want is for her to get hurt.
Damn, now his protective streak was bothering even him.
* * *
Brie was glad to see Mari at home in her new digs. In only two weeks, she’d put in a new floor in the kitchen and added an island. The place seemed different from when Eddie lived here. “Thanks for inviting us for dinner.”
Nearly seven-year-old Lilliana blurted out, “All our furniture’s here, Aunt Brie.”
“I saw.”
Mari squeezed her hand. “I’m glad to have you.” A bit of the devil came to her sister’s eyes. “And him.”
“When’s he coming?” Lilliana again.
“He had to work at his family’s business today.” She checked the clock in the kitchen—a round one, with Italy as its face. “He’ll be here when the big hand is on Naples.”
Lilliana laughed. “That’s funny.”
“Aunt Brie cracking a joke?” Mari said. “Wow, that’s new.”
“Aunt Brie is happy.” And she was. Ever since she and Dante had made love, she’d been over the moon, as Lexy would say. It had been three days filled with simple company, good food and hot sex.
Mari brought over wine and sat. She poured the ruby-red liquid into two glasses and filled Lilliana’s tumbler with grape juice. They all clinked and sipped.
“Hey, I ran into one of the Marino girls at Georgetown today,” Mari said. “Maggie, Declan’s daughter.” The Marinos were the family of Calla’s husband Connor. They’d become friends with the Gentileschi girls. “She’s coming in to observe you in school?”
“Yeah, she’s majoring in early education for the underprivileged. She’s a doll.”
“I like Uncle Connor’s family.” Lilliana smiled. “Come up and see my room now, Aunt Brie.”
“Okay.”
They climbed the stairs to the top floor, all of which served as her niece’s private space. “Wow, you have a lot of space here.”
“Like my new bed?”
Brie gazed to the left to find a Cinderella pumpkin coach bed. It was true to size to the one in the stage play, with huge wooden wheels and a slatted wooden bench high up for the driver. Wooden steps led to the inside bed area, which was all pink. “Wow, Lilly, this is beautiful.”
“I love it.” And look at these.” Brie transferred her gaze to the row of six skyscraper structures, all in different pastel facades with the windows cut out. Lilly pulled open the door of one to reveal they were closets.
“How clever.”
“I gotta get furniture for over there—” she pointed to the empty half “—when I decide what I want it to be.”
“You are one lucky duck!”
“Quack.”
The doorbell rang as they came down the stairs. “I’ll get it,” Brie called back to her sister and opened the door. “Hi.”
Dante smiled. “Hi, there, Lilliana.”
From beside her, the girl said, “I met you at the game.”
“Come on in.”
After he stepped inside, Mari came into the foyer.
He put out his hand. “Mariella. Nice to see you again. Thanks for having me.”
“My pleasure.”
He held up a bag. “I brought some Italian cookies from our favorite bakery near our shop.”
“How sweet. I just poured some wine. Or would you like something else before dinner?”
“I’ll have a glass of wine.”
Once in the kitchen, he took a seat next to Brie and squeezed her hand where it rested on the table.
Lilliana focused on the gesture. “You like Aunt Brie, don’t you?”
“Very much.”
“She never brought a boy to dinner with us.”
“Then I’m honored to be the first.” Dante focused on the child. “Tell me about school, Lilliana. You attend a private one, don’t you?”
“St. Cecilia’s. I get to take the bus from here.”
“You like the bus?”
“Ye
ah. I never rode one before we moved to this country.”
“How did you get around?”
“One of those big black cars Bappo has.”
“Bappo?”
“Her grandfather,” Brie said dryly.
“The king,” Mari put in. “We had to make some concessions because of our royalty. Otherwise we lived simply. Especially up until Lilly’s papa died.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, both of you.” He touched Lilliana’s arm. “My father died, too. I was sad for a long time, but now I remember him fondly.”
“I don’t remember papa.”
It had been five years since Mari’s husband died. Lilliana had been nearly two.
“That’s okay, honey.” Mari’s sad voice said otherwise. “We look at his pictures and I tell you stories all the time about him.”
She perked up. “Yvette’s grandmother died. She doesn’t remember her either, but Dr. Dubois is sad whenever he talks about her.”
Brie explained the people involved.
Mari stood. “Okay, who’s ready for food?”
“I am,” Dante said eagerly.
“Tonight’s make your own pizza night,” Brie announced. “The fixings are on the island ready to go.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Guests first.”
Dante went through the line. When he got to the end, Lilliana scowled down at his plate. “That’s all you’re having on it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Watch me.” She picked up her own crust, slathered on marinara sauce, added mozzarella—and olives, mushrooms, sausage and pepperoni. She held it out to him. “This.”
“Hmm. I’m afraid I’m a plain eater.”
“Sissy.”
“Lilliana! Language!”
“Your mama’s right about using that word. But you could just dare me to.”
She raised her little chin. “Dare you.”
Dante remade his pizza with everything she had put on hers. Brie and Mari laughed as they did up identical ones.
Mari had installed two ovens so the pizzas all baked together. The scent of warm cheese and dough and other vegetables filled the air as Lilliana asked Dante a thousand questions.
