Hot Shade

by Tamara Lush

  “This is…this is perfect,” she said, feeling like she was telling him a deep secret. She almost wanted to cry from the intensity because she felt so close to him and knew this moment was fleeting and impossible to repeat. Thank heavens it was dark, because her eyes welled up a little and she shuddered. This was different, special.

  And might never happen again.

  Luca’s breath caught, and he spoke in a low whisper into her ear as he slid his fingers over her swollen clitoris, causing her stomach muscles to twitch in response. “It is. It is perfect. You’re right. We’re perfect together.”

  She hoped he wasn’t lying.

  He teased and touched her, circling her clit with his fingers. She was so close to coming. So close. Her insides coiled. Tightened. Her body was ready for the release.

  “Please, Luca. Please. Please,” she whimpered, and he responded in Italian.

  “Sorry,” he said after a breathless moment. “I’m loving you in my language.”

  Skylar’s heart skipped a beat. She shuddered with violent need when he slowed his circles around her clit, breathing hard in her ear and occasionally whispering words she didn’t understand. Dimly, she realized they were words of passion and beauty, but she couldn’t think, couldn’t speak.

  His finger’s circles around her clit grew smaller, firmer, more insistent. An orgasm tore through her, over and over, and she cried out louder than she ever had, turning into him and crushing her body against his. She reached the apex of pleasure, not wanting it to end. Through her daze she knew that no man had ever made her feel this way. The only time she had come this strong was when she pleasured herself, and she was shocked to find that another person’s touch was as good as her own.

  Better, even.

  Luca held her as she trembled. Then a thought came to her. How could she be so selfish as to not please him in return? This must be torture. She put her hand on his chest and gently pushed him onto his back. Sliding atop his body, she kissed him, teasing his lips with her tongue. She sat and straddled his hips, running her hands over his chest, pausing to roll his nipples in between her thumb and forefinger. He gasped, and his chest twitched in response. She pressed her lips to his neck then slowly trailed her tongue down his body, her hair sweeping his flesh.

  “You don’t have to—”

  He gasped when she removed his underwear, freeing his straining cock. She looked up and said, “But I want to. I want to feel you.”

  She knelt and wrapped her hand around his erection. He was far bigger than any man she’d been with, and she grasped his fever-hot skin, stroking him slowly from base to head. A flash of lightning illuminated the room and she caught sight of his gorgeous face. Luca’s brow furrowed slightly, and his lips were parted.

  “Is this okay?” she asked. God, how she hated being so self-conscious. But she couldn’t help it.

  “It’s incredible. Please don’t stop.”

  She stroked for a few more moments and he groaned.

  “I’m not… I can’t… I won’t last long, Sky.”

  With a steady rhythm, she pumped her hand up and down his cock. Then she paused. She teased. She went faster, running her other hand down his thigh, lightly scratching with her nails. He let out a low moan and came, and she had never heard such an erotic sound.

  Skylar slid down next to him and kissed his cheek. Feeling him pant and tremble was so satisfying. She knew he was much more experienced than she was, but his kisses afterward seemed worshipful and grateful. As if the night meant something to him.

  After they each used the bathroom, he took her into his arms again. They dissolved into sleep, exhausted from desire. Skylar had one last thought before drifting off.

  This is too perfect to last.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Luca woke to Skylar’s screams.

  His heart hammered in his chest, jolting him awake. He jumped out of bed and followed her voice, panic spreading through his body like a wildfire. They’ve found us. The Mafia. They’re going to kill her. Kill me.

  Her screams echoed from inside the bathroom. Luca practically broke the door down to get to her. Fuck. The gun! He’d forgotten the gun.

  She was wearing one of his big T-shirts and stood atop the edge of the Jacuzzi tub. “Luca! Oh God! Right there,” she cried, pointing at the wall behind him.

  Luca spun around, sweat forming on his face. “Skylar, what? What?”

  “The cockroach on the wall. I hate them. Please make it go away,” she squealed. “Do you see it? It’s right above the toilet. I can’t deal with it. It’s the worst thing about living in Florida.”

  Luca took a deep breath and slumped against the bathroom counter. She had almost sent him into cardiac arrest over a two-inch bug. He walked into the bedroom to grab her flip-flop.

  She was still standing on the edge of the tub when Luca returned and calmly thwacked the shoe against the wall, killing the insect. His heart finally resumed its normal cadence, and he grinned at Skylar while washing his hands. She remained on the tub and muttered something about how every building in Florida had cockroaches.

  Luca wrapped his arm around her legs and gently lowered her down, then picked her up and carried her back to bed. “Don’t do that, Skylar. I thought something really bad was happening to you. It scared me. Next time you see a bug, wake me up without the screaming, okay?”

  * * *

  The sound of steady rain against the bedroom windows roused Skylar from sleep. A delicious thrill went through her. Snuggling into the duvet, she stretched and allowed the covers to swallow her. An ache had settled in her body, like after doing hours of yoga at a retreat.

  Luca, who was lying on his back, worked his arm under her and pulled her close. Her hand lay flat on his hard stomach, and she felt the sheet shift from the twitching of his erection. Gently she pulled the sheet back to look at his cock in the gray, stormy morning light. He had remained naked all night, while she had put on her underwear and slipped on his T-shirt, which smelled of his spicy aftershave.

  She glanced up at his face. His eyes were closed but his lips turned up in a lusty smile as she curled her hand around his shaft.

  “I think you’re harder this morning than you were last night,” she whispered.

  Still grinning, he opened one eye and looked down. “I don’t know how that’s possible.”

  He put his hand around hers, and together they stroked, slowly, which made Skylar ache and throb between her legs. Luca then removed his hand and clutched the sheet near his hip, sucking in a breath. “If I’m harder this morning, it’s thanks to you.”

  His eyes were on her hand as she pumped for several tantalizing minutes. Licking her lips in fascination, she stopped moving and touched the tip of her index finger to the head of his cock, swirling a drop of clear fluid around the sensitive skin. He gasped then came.

  So far, taking things slow and not having sex was proving to be extremely hot.

  A while later, while she lolled in bed half-asleep, Luca emerged from the bathroom in a T-shirt and shorts, his hair wet. He sat on the edge of the bed and caressed her hair.

  “Sky, I need my espresso in the morning. Do you want to come down to the kitchen with me? Or should I bring you breakfast in bed?”

  Skylar didn’t know if he was serious. No guy had ever offered to make her breakfast in bed. Since she didn’t know if he was joking, she shook her head. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  In the bathroom, she marveled for several minutes inside the shower stall, which was tiled in a deep blue and had a wide nozzle, allowing the water to fall in a column. A teak bench in the shower made her wish Luca was there with her, and she imagined someday sitting on his lap, making love to him on that bench.

  Soon.

  Running soap over her skin, she thought about how Luca was so respectful of her wish to wait. Maybe he was truly old-fashioned, a gentleman.

  She found him in the kitchen. The rain was coming down hard, pelting the roof in staccato beats. He h
ad tuned a wireless speaker to a jazz station. The song was old and sensual, something about a valentine. Standing at the kitchen island in his big shirt and baggy boxer shorts, Skylar watched with a mix of fascination and desire as he ground the coffee beans. He flashed her a little-boy happy smile and she walked over to kiss him.

  It’s like we’re married.

  The thought popped into her head, and just as quickly, a feeling of shock. Skylar had never, ever dreamed of marriage. Not with James, and they’d dated for nine months. Not with any other guy, either. She hadn’t ever considered what marriage would be like. It wasn’t something even presented as an option to her as a girl.

  “You’re not put on this earth to serve a man or get married,” her mother would tell her. She wasn’t raised with bride fantasies or Disney princesses. She and James had never talked about marriage, because she’d thought she was too young, and he’d always asserted it was a stupid, outdated institution. So dreams of a wedding cake or a man who would sweep her off her feet were about as foreign to her as living on Mars.

  Until now.

  Her chest tightened with anxiety. This was just a fun fling. She had to keep reminding herself of that. He was probably hiding something. Maybe he had a criminal past. Luca was so far from a prince or knight or whatever in shining armor, it wasn’t even funny. And yet, the element of danger behind his silence added a layer of intrigue to his seductive charms.

  “Ok, so here’s what you need to do,” Luca said, interrupting her thoughts. He was at the counter and holding the coffeepot. He positioned her body close to the counter and kissed her neck. “This is the Bialetti. Come. I need you to see this so you can learn to make me espresso. Oh, and I have some chocolate biscotti.”

  “How did you know I love chocolate?”

  He softly bit her neck. “I guessed. You probably haven’t had the good stuff, though. I’ll have to find you some real Italian chocolates.”

  Her heart fluttered. She would make him espresso and eat chocolate with him anywhere. He spun Skylar around and they swayed a little.

  “Do you like this music? It’s jazz. Chet Baker.” He kissed her on the forehead.

  Sky nodded. The music, the coffee, him. It all made her so happy.

  After a few minutes, the Bialetti percolated. Opening its lid a half-inch, Sky noticed the thick coffee bubbling up into the top chamber.

  Luca chuckled. “It can explode if you’re not careful.”

  She shot him an alarmed look.

  “A Bialetti once exploded on my mother when I was ten,” Luca said, continuing to laugh. “I remember the whole unit just went POOM and coffee splashed up to the ceiling. Come to think of it, I believe every Italian family has coffee on their ceiling because of an espresso explosion.”

  “Uh, thanks. When I’m not with you I’ll stick to my iced coffee,” she said, kissing him.

  Did it make him sad to think about his mother? They sipped coffee, and Sky decided to ask about Luca’s past. She could ask him about his parents, or she could try to ease into her probe with a softball question.

  “I can’t believe you’re single. You seem too good to be true. You’re handsome, you’re smart, you make great food.” She tried to say this with a playful grin.

  Luca sighed and shifted away from her. He took the pot off the stove and poured more into their cups. His shoulders rose with tension, and Skylar cringed, worried she had said the wrong thing and wondering if he would explode like a Bialetti.

  His voice was serious. “I’m single, I’ve told you that. My longest relationship was with a woman for a month or so in Italy, but I broke up with her. We just didn’t…I dunno. I didn’t feel a spark for her. I haven’t had anyone serious in my life, ever. I’m not really a good… Let’s just say I’m not really the relationship type.”

  “What was her name?” Skylar didn’t even know why she was torturing herself by asking.

  Luca frowned. “Annalisa.”

  A stab went through her gut. Was it jealousy for this Annalisa woman, who’d been lucky enough to spend a month with him? Or disappointment? Both? A competitive feeling welled inside of her, similar to when she was working on a news story. She wanted not only to be the best, but the only. And yet, no man had ever loved her enough to make her actually feel special. She had felt this weird competitiveness when James talked about his ex. She wanted to be better than any woman that had come before her, and Annalisa was no different.

  “What was wrong with Annalisa?”

  “She…she…” Luca’s voice trailed off and he waved a hand in the air in a circle, as if trying to find the right words.

  Trying to stay casual, Skylar sipped her coffee and wondered what Annalisa looked like. She had a beautiful, feminine name, and in Skylar’s mind she must be petite and fashionable. European. That word conjured up a slightly aloof nature, a practical breeziness, an effortless thinness—all of which Skylar didn’t possess.

  Luca stammered, and she didn’t respond. It was a reporter’s trick to stay silent and hope the other person continued talking.

  Luca rotated the little white cup on the granite counter with his fingertips and didn’t look at her. He sighed then said, “Sky, I think it’s best if we set some ground rules about this. I won’t ask you any questions about your past if you don’t ask any questions about mine.”

  She frowned. “But I don’t mind if you ask me questions. I don’t have anything to hide. I have no problem telling you about my ex-boyf—”

  Luca interrupted and put a finger over her mouth. “I don’t want to know. I don’t want to imagine another man touching you. That’s one of the many reasons why I don’t want to talk about our pasts. I have a jealous streak.”

  Skylar recalled their conversation after her night at the Iguana. “Okay, I get that. But why do you have a problem with talking about your past?”

  Luca chewed on his bottom lip. “It’s really complicated, amore. I don’t want to involve you in it. That’s all I’ll say.”

  She sent him a skeptical, cynical look and then remembered how his parents died and softened. “Complicated how?”

  “I’m not going to talk about it with you,” he said in a flat voice. “My past, your past isn’t important anyway. What’s important is right now, this moment. Live in the present, that’s all I’m trying to do. That’s all I can do, no? It will make us a lot easier.”

  Skylar noticed his emphasis.

  “What is going on with us?” she asked, pointing her finger at him then herself.

  There was a long pause. “I don’t know. Let’s just not label it.”

  “And the future? Is talking about that off-limits, too?”

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “Why?”

  He shook his head, a mournful look on his face. His eyes drifted away from her, to the corner of the room. “I…I don’t know how long I’ll be here in Florida. I can’t promise anything. I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep.”

  Feeling a sharp pain in her chest, Skylar resolved to maintain distance. This was only casual fooling around, friends with benefits. Her first impressions of Luca had been correct. He was a complex man, a player. Not boyfriend material at all.

  And yet, she didn’t want this to end. Not yet. She wasn’t willing to walk away. No, she had to create some boundaries of her own, some parameters so she could continue to spend time with him and keep her dignity intact.

  “Okay, well…I have a rule, too, Luca.”

  His gaze dropped to her face. “What is it?”

  “As long as we’re doing this”—she waved her hand between them—“you don’t screw anyone else.”

  “I’m not screwing anyone else.”

  “Or ‘make love.’ Or fare l’amore, or whatever.”

  “Very good on the pronunciation.” He cracked a smile.

  “Don’t turn your Italian charm on me,” she said, trying to make her voice steely but laughing a bit inside. “If we’re going to continue to be together, you need t
o be exclusive with me. It’s only fair. I don’t ask you about your past, you don’t screw other women.”

  A little smile crept onto his lips. “Okay. Agreed. I can do that.”

  She nodded slowly. “I’m glad.”

  He kissed her then suggested they take the coffee and some biscotti up to the second floor terrace, off his bedroom. As they carried everything upstairs, she considered informing Luca he didn’t need to worry about her falling in love with him, she wasn’t ready for a relationship. She didn’t want a boyfriend, not really.

  Of course, if she did want one, he’d be exactly like Luca.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Ugh. The water looked pretty and blue but it was as warm as a bath. Wearing an ugly pink one-piece swimsuit that she’d bought to blend in with the rest of the Americans, a floppy hat and big sunglasses, Annalisa waded out until the Gulf was hip-deep.

  Using the address the bureaucrat gave her, she had located Federico’s house. She wasn’t ready to bribe the guard for information, not yet. Since the house was so close to the public beach, she didn’t want to attract attention by lingering at the gate, so she went out just far enough in the water so she could spy from a distance through a tiny pair of binoculars. Surely if Luca stood on the terrace of that big house he couldn’t see her.

  Her foot touched something underwater and she kicked frantically, nearly dropping the binoculars in the water. The hotel desk clerk had warned her about stingrays hidden in the sand, and the very thought of touching one with her toe turned her stomach. It was just a rock or a shell, though.

  She slowly turned to face the beach and raised the binoculars. Thank God there weren’t many people out, and they all seemed too absorbed in sunbathing or reading to notice her odd behavior. Then again, this was America, where everyone let their freak flag fly. Who cared if she was spying on houses? People probably thought she was looking at those ugly white birds with the skinny legs.

  Through the binoculars she spotted a familiar, black-haired head and almost started to cry. It was him. Her Luca. Then another figure came into view. A woman. Annalisa adjusted the focus on the binoculars and sucked in a breath when she saw Luca wrap his arms around the person.