HER FINAL FLING
Page 14
"Make love to me." She whispered the words, but there was a note of command in her tone he couldn't mistake. She needed him now. "Show me this 'Queen of Heaven' position."
"Soon." He savored her breast like a connoisseur at a feast. Slow. Appreciative.
It was enough to make her knees weak. Her heart melt.
"But I want to try more positions after that one," she blurted, desperate to distract from those exquisite touches so she could simply lose herself in the hard, heated rhythm of hungry sex. "You can teach me."
His lips broke away from one swollen breast. He eased his hand down her belly to stray over her damp satin panties. "There's more to the Kama Sutra than sex positions."
Her breath caught in her throat as he eased aside the elastic on one leg to skim a finger over her slick heat. "Really?"
Her voice came out as little more than a squeak. "There's a whole section on kissing we ought to try sometime." He twisted his finger into the waistband of her panties and dragged them down her thighs until she was as naked as him.
Blood pulsed through her so hard she was aware of every heartbeat between her thighs. He bent to rub his cheek along her thigh, the bristly hair around his chin lightly scratching her. "You want me to show you some of them?"
The muscles all around her belly tightened. Heat knifed through her to the spot he touched, his lips so close…
"I don't know if…" She trailed off, unable to speak once he dipped a kiss to her thigh.
"There's the bowed kiss. The twisted kiss. The satisfied kiss." As he spoke, he moved nearer and nearer to the place that craved his kiss most.
Heat flooded her limbs, coiled inside her as she tensed. She didn't dare move as she watched him hover over her in the firelight.
"Then there's the vibrant kiss that involves just a little bit of vibration…" He leaned forward to demonstrate, his lips grazing the slick center of her moments before she flew apart, his mouth calling forth the most knee-buckling orgasm known to womankind.
Spasms rocked her on and on while he touched her, whispered to her, kissed her with those wicked, knowing, amazing kisses. When the aftershocks finally ceased, she reached for him, needing him deep inside her.
He was already poised above her, condom in place to protect her in that endlessly thoughtful way she'd learned was part of this man's nature. While she'd panted and sighed in toe-curling fulfillment, he'd been thinking of her, taking care of her in so many little ways she'd never known she wanted.
Thighs failing open for him, she threaded her fingers though his hair, tugged him closer as he eased his way inside.
"I'll never underestimate the power of a kiss again," she confided, wrapping her legs around him as if to hold him there forever. Or at least all night. She couldn't possibly stay with him long enough.
"And we haven't even gotten to the positions yet," he reminded her, untwining her ankles so that he could grip one of her thighs. Lift it.
He turned himself ever so slightly so that he straddled one of her legs and kept the other bent against his chest. The penetration was so thorough, so complete she felt possessed on the most elemental level.
A cry built in her throat as they moved together and she neared that sensual brink again all too soon. Just as she hit the sweetest high of her life right in time with Vito's, she realized why they called this particular position the Queen of Heaven.
As stars twinkled all around her she knew she'd catapulted straight into the stratosphere.
* * *
13
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Later that night, Vito lay awake in bed and stroked Christine's hair while she slept. A stray shaft of moonlight trickled in between the curtains of his bedroom, casting a soft blue haze over her features.
Thinking about what they'd shared earlier, he realized his whole world had ground to a halt for the first time since he'd taken up racing.
Ever since he'd left the States almost six years ago, he had been moving through life at light speed trying to make up for lost time. And even though it had been fun for a while, he had to admit that for the last year, everything around him had been a blur, kind of like the way things looked through his car windshield at two hundred miles per hour.
But tonight, everything had stopped.
Something about Christine had called him out of the fast-moving streak his life had become and made him want to sit still. Savor. Enjoy. Maybe that had been part of her appeal all along, he thought now as he watched her tug the sheet more tightly to her in sleep.
This summer was the first time he'd spent more than a week in Miami since he'd left home. And it wasn't just because he needed to get the house ready for Giselle's wedding. He easily could have flown back and forth all summer the way he'd planned to before he met Christine.
His perpetually restless feet hadn't been called to move in six weeks, preferring to stick close to the woman who occupied all his thoughts lately. But tonight, holding her in his arms while she fell asleep, he'd realized that there was more to this attraction than he could possibly explore during one summer.
Because he loved Christine.
Lying back on the bed, he let the revelation slide over him, waiting for the fear to set in. The second thoughts. He had a career abroad, after all. A career he was passionate about.
But as the clock ticked off another hour and the moonlight changed to the first rays of dawn filtering through the curtains, he still wasn't scared. Just excited. And crazy about her. And in love.
Too bad love alone wouldn't help him figure out how to make a long-distance relationship work. Nor would it provide an alternate career for him in Miami so that he could stay with her here.
When his cell phone rang, he scrambled to answer it before it woke Christine. Who the hell would call him at this hour? Unless…
"Yeah?"
"Vito, it's Oswald." The clipped tones of his publicist rolled over the airwaves. "I know you're busy doing the family thing, but I need you here today for some race preliminaries. Do you want to make the arrangements or do you want me to?"
"Damn it, Ozzie. Can't you handle the preliminaries?" He couldn't jet off to Germany today. Christine deserved better than that.
Then again, maybe she'd be upset when she woke up to discover she'd spent the whole night in his bed. A first for the woman who held on to her boundaries even more tightly than she clutched her sheet under her chin. Besides, she hadn't been the one to fall in love overnight. He was the only one slipping off the deep end for her.
"I thought I could manage things, but there is a lot more media interest here than they anticipated. You can come over, do a few days of interviews and still be back in plenty of time for the ceremony."
Obviously Oswald didn't know squat about Italian family weddings. Giselle had ten different events lined up between now and then. Still, maybe she'd forgive him if he could go over there and either figure out how to convince Christine to move abroad with him, or else find a way to walk away from his career.
She stirred beside him, perhaps sensing the tension quickly threading through him.
"I'll be there. But I'll need you to meet me at the airport because I've got a lot to take care of this trip." His future, and with any luck, Christine's rode on it.
* * *
Something was rotten in the state of Denmark. Or in this case, on the other side of the king-size bed in the Xanadu suite.
Christine held her breath as Vito disconnected his call, waiting to find out what had him looking so tense. Worried.
Distant.
Wasn't this why she hadn't allowed herself to spend a whole night with him up until now? She hadn't wanted to face the morning-after awkwardness, hadn't been ready to see Vito's careful way of extricating himself from her arms. Her life.
"I'd better go." She blurted out the words to ensure she said them before he did. Scrambling out of the bed and dragging the sheet with her, she kept reminding herself this was just a fling. No need for her to feel so damn disappointed this
morning.
Just a fling. Just a fling. Just a—
"Don't go." He slid an arm around her waist as she dropped her dress over her head. "Stay here. Sleep a little longer."
Concentrating very hard on the effort, she managed to curl her lips into what she hoped was a lighthearted grin. "Sounds like you've got people to see and places to go, and frankly, so do I." At 6:00 a.m. Yeah, right. Her only plan for today had been to attend Giselle's Hangover Brunch at eleven o'clock this morning.
As per Giselle's instructions, Christine had planned on goofing off a certain amount over the next few days before the wedding since her work on the Cesare property was just about finished. She'd come in on time and almost exactly on budget after sweating out every single purchase she'd made. All she needed to do now was keep everything watered and trimmed so it looked lush for the reception.
She waited for Vito to release her, but that warm, muscular arm of his remained around her waist. Tugged her back toward the edge of the bed to sit beside him in the tangle of sheets where he had taught her the pleasure of all his different kisses.
"I do have someplace to go," he admitted, though he did a damn good job of seeming to regret it. "I've got a race after the wedding and I thought I'd be able to skip all the preliminary events, but apparently I need to put in a quick appearance before the weekend."
The stab to her heart was quick. Efficient. Devastating.
Logically, she knew it shouldn't be since he had prepared her for this right along. Of course, last night she'd let go of her last remaining shreds of logic by staying with him all through the night. Making love to him over and over again until it seemed as though they weren't just sharing bodies. They were sharing hearts. Minds.
Somehow, she'd committed the classic error of mistaking physical affection for—dear God—love.
Even as she admitted as much to herself, her romantic heart mourned the fact that Vito would be checking out of her life mere hours after she'd become irrevocably attached to him.
"Sounds fun," she lied, knowing she'd never be the kind of woman who could tag along in some star driver's entourage, pretending to find small talk about engines interesting and faking that she liked caviar.
They lived in two different worlds, even if he made a good show of seeming to fit into hers.
"I meant to tell you about the race before." His dark eyebrows knit together as he scowled. His naked body rippled with muscles in all the right places. "I don't know why I didn't. I guess my whole life over there seems far away when we're together."
She held herself very still, certain if she allowed herself to move, she'd somehow jar loose a tear. And damn it, she couldn't allow that. She'd known the rules going into this and she had no one to blame but herself if she'd gotten hurt anyhow.
"I'll bet it does. I'm sure you don't usually get sucked into pruning palm trees or come home to find birdseed in your kitchen when you're overseas, do you?"
His smile made her heart ache. "That's what made this summer so fun for me."
But…
She could hear the unspoken word hovering, casting a shadow on their time together. He might have had fun, but it was still time to go,
"Nevertheless, the time has come to bail, right?" She sprang to her feet again, unable to bear the temptation of his body so close to hers and unwilling to sit still for any long-winded goodbye without bawling her eyes out. She'd thought it had hurt when Rafe had turned out to be a fraud?
That was a paper cut compared to the gushing open wound Vito's departure would leave behind.
"I'm not bailing, Christine." He rose to his feet, shrugging his way into his clothes while she made a valiant effort to stuff her undergarments into her tiny purse and tried not to notice that heartbreakingly gorgeous body of his. "I'll be back for the wedding and you promised me you'd go with me. Nothing's changed about our date this weekend."
Only because he needed her to run interference for the matchmakers in his family, right? Attending the wedding would be like a stick in the eye for her now that she'd gone and fallen in love against her better judgment.
"If you can't make it back, I'll understand." Maybe it would be better if he just stayed abroad. Skipped the wedding so she didn't have to suffer through all those "I dos" and "I love yous" with him a few feet away.
Oh God, it was going to be awful.
"We both know my sister would kill me if I didn't get back here for the wedding." Fully clothed now, Vito reached for her while she fidgeted with her purse. "And we need to have a long talk once I get back."
"You told me from the start you wanted to keep this simple, Vito. Let's not muck it up now by dragging out the goodbyes." It would be so much easier if they could just fast-forward through the heartbreak. Skip all the parts about wanting to stay friends and having a nice life.
She edged out of the bedroom, closer to the door of the suite.
"This isn't goodbye." He followed her, but didn't keep her from turning the knob. "I mean it, Christine. We're going to the wedding together and we're going to have the time of our lives. You've worked so hard all summer you deserve to enjoy the rewards. Oh and before I forget…"
He reached for an envelope on a table near the door while she fought to remain as calm and unruffled as him.
"Giuseppe wanted me to give you this." He handed her the thick envelope with her name scrawled across the front. "I know he's been too caught up with chasing Mrs. Kowolski to comment much lately, but you've done a great job with the yard. It looks better than ever."
Fingers clutching the heavy white packet, she knew she'd never forget this landscaping project, a job she'd poured her whole heart and soul into. "I thought Giuseppe wanted me to take a check?"
Vito's phone started to ring again, scattering her thoughts. She ought to just take the money and run. Funny how the compensation had been so important to her when she first started.
And while the money still represented the ability to keep her business afloat until she could make All Natural a big success, somehow in the course of the last weeks her business had taken a back seat to her happiness.
"Is cash okay?" Vito tensed, ignoring the ringing phone. He leaned closer as if to kiss her.
Her eyes fluttered but didn't close. She couldn't afford to show him any moment of weakness now. Turning her cheek, she felt the warmth of his lips on her skin, unable to kiss him back when her heart burned with hurt.
"It's fine. Perfect." She pulled the door open the rest of the way and stepped out into the hallway. "I'll see you Saturday at the ceremony, Vito. Have a safe flight."
Tears already stinging her eyes as she walked to the elevator, Christine thought it was a good thing her only destination was a Hangover Brunch this morning.
If her eyes were a little red and swollen, she should blend right in.
It wasn't until hours later that she opened the fat white envelope Vito had given her to discover the bonus money inside. A very fat bonus she knew damn well cost-conscious Giuseppe would have never given her since he'd spent so much time making sure she juggled the project to come within a very strict budget.
Not to mention the fact he'd wanted to pay her with a check.
Which meant Vito's bank account had provided all that cash before he blew out of town. His idea of giving her fledgling business a boost since she was so obviously struggling in her first year? Or was this payment for other services rendered?
Steam rolled out her ears to consider either scenario, her anger a welcome alternative to thinking about the ache in her heart.
Either way, Christine would have a few choice words for him by the time the wedding rolled around.
* * *
By the time Giselle's wedding arrived, Vito had no choice but to admit Christine must be mad at him.
Five days after Christine had walked out of his hotel suite, he sat in the back room of the Coral Gables church he'd attended his whole life, surrounded by his brothers and Giselle's groom, Hugh Duncan. How could he have scr
ewed things up so badly with Christine and not even realized it? He stared out a small window overlooking the parking lot and hoped he'd see her old truck pull in, while behind him Nico tried to get his tie straight and Renzo heckled him about the lack of refinement in hockey players.
Vito only half listened, cursing himself for taking off for the race preliminaries in the first place. He'd called Christine from Germany every day but no one was ever home. Even his sister had been no help since she'd been immersed in her wedding plans and enjoying her time with family and friends around her. She always told him Christine was busy in the one of the gardens or that she'd already left for the day.
Apparently she'd moved out of the Cesare house while he'd been gone, leaving no forwarding address. Now that her job was through, he supposed, she'd moved back to wherever it was she came from.
Too bad he had absolutely no clue where that would be.
As far as he knew, she didn't live in the area. Yet she was starting a business in Miami so she couldn't have gone far. Still, what if he needed to get in touch with her in an emergency? Like now, for instance.
"Hey, Vito," Nico shouted over his impromptu wrestling match with their youngest brother Marco, who was starting his second year at Harvard this fall. "Isn't it the groom who gets the jitters before the ceremony? You're supposed to be calming Hugh down, not getting all the rest of us wired."
"Jitters my ass." Worried, yeah. But not jittery. Yet. "Don't make me have to brawl with you on your sister's wedding day." His gaze never left the parking lot where there was still no sign of Christine's truck.
Nico let out a whoop as he pinned Marco's hand to an old wooden school desk in the small dressing room. Moonwalking a victory dance over to join Vito at the window, he clapped an arm around his brother's shoulder.
"That's why we need you around town again, bro. No one else in the family can offer to kick my ass and actually back it up." He cast a sly look toward their brother Renzo, whom Marco had to sit on to keep from disproving the claim. "Seriously. It's been good to have you around this summer."