Portia huffed. “I’ll come find you when I’m ready.” She leaned over to give Giorgio another air kiss, placing a hand on his shoulder in the process. She turned to Anabelle with a cold stare. “Annie.”
“Uh, it’s actually Anabelle…” she tried corrected her, but Portia was already walking away.
“Sorry about that,” Giorgio said, shaking his head. “She can be a bit much. She likes to act superior to everyone else.”
“Why?” Anabelle asked.
“She’s the social climber type and she, well…has a high opinion of herself. “
You mean she’s an arrogant bitch, Anabelle thought, pissed off at the woman’s patently dismissive and condescending attitude towards her.
“She’s been that way since I met her,” Giorgio continued, “whether it’s personal or professional circumstances. It’s just her nature. I try to ignore her most of the time,” he said as he shrugged his shoulders.
Anabelle wanted to say something about seeing him at lunch that day. He didn’t seem to be trying to ignore her then. “She has the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah, colored contacts,” he said. “Her natural eye color is actually green, but apparently not green enough.”
“Really? Well, they sure pop. They look like jewels. And holy big lips, Batman,” she commented.
“Yeah, she gets them done fairly often. She goes for some kind of injections, I think. Nikolas told me.”
“Well, if she wants to stand out, it’s working,” Anabelle said. It wasn’t a compliment, but she didn’t want to be overtly catty about a member of his family that she just met.
“That’s Portia. Nothing is subtle with her. And she’s usually late for everything. Come,” he said, tilting his head, “let’s do some more meet and greets.” He took her hand.
She was hoping he’d tell her more about Portia or mention the lunch he had with her recently. It had looked like they were having a serious discussion about something. But he didn’t. He obviously wanted to change the subject, so she let him.
After the extremely awkward introduction with Portia, they proceeded to mingle. Anabelle still felt uncomfortable since she didn’t know anyone. As they mixed with the crowd, Anabelle could see that attractive women of various ages were eyeing Giorgio. She could tell they were appreciating his handsome looks and masculine build. She felt at once proud to be on his arm and a little like there were blood-thirsty sharks circling, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
Over the next hour and a half, Giorgio introduced her to so many people it was becoming a blur of faces and names she’d never remember, except for some who stood out. Three of the women had brazenly flirted with him right in front of her, as if she wasn’t even there. One even had a giant diamond wedding ring set on. No shame, Anabelle thought, wondering where the woman’s husband was and why he was letting his wife with the wandering eye out of his sight. Maybe he was used to it and no longer cared. Maybe he was somewhere doing the exact same thing.
These were definitely not people Anabelle wanted to spend much time around. She didn’t trust any of them. Giorgio was respectful in all of his exchanges, but she wondered what he’d be like if she wasn’t standing right there. It tied her stomach in a knot.
“I’m sorry about the behavior of some of these people,” Giorgio said. “Wealth and privilege gives people a skewed sense of boundaries and morality sometimes.”
She remembered what Sarah had said. Her friend had been right. “And you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “How do you navigate through all of those blurred boundaries? You seem to have a lot of temptation and opportunities coming your way.”
He stopped walking and gently held her arm. He looked straight at her, his face serious. “I learned a long time ago not to chase down empty paths. It only eats away at your soul. I make better choices now. It’s made me a happier man.” He kissed her hand. “You are making me a happier man.”
She felt her face grow hot with emotion. “You mean that?”
He smiled softly and touched her cheek. “I do, so you can just own that, you know.”
She nodded, then looked down, feeling self-conscious about her bundle of insecurities. She was sure that wasn’t a quality that a man looked for in a woman.
Giorgio saw her reaction even though he could tell she was trying to hide it. “Want to go outside and get some fresh air?” he asked. “It’s a warm evening.”
She looked visibly relieved. It felt like a lifeline. “I’d love to,” she said, smiling.
He gave her a knowing smile in return, and led her towards the far wall to a set of double doors that opened onto a large terrace overlooking Central Park. The view was stunning. There were three other likeminded couples out there already, stealing some privacy and breathing room from the stuffy event. He took her hand and they walked to the far end of the terrace, and down to a second landing, closer to the ground, which was partially cast in shadows. The well-enclosed area was nice and secluded, but still offered lovely views of the surrounding lush park.
“Better?” he asked as he leaned against the railing.
“Much better, thank you,” she said. “You must be a mind reader.” She took a deep breath of the warm, fragrant air. The music from inside sounded muted and soft out there and the chatter more distant. It was exactly what she needed.
“It’s all a bit much to take in, I know,” he said.
“Yeah,” she said, “I thought I had steeled myself for this, but it’s more overwhelming than I expected.”
He stepped close to her. His hand rubbed her arm in gentle strokes.
She looked up at him, still dazzled by his blue eyes and lips that now curved into a sexy smile.
He bent down to kiss her, a long, tender kiss. Then he pulled her in close to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, loving the feel of his strong masculine body against her. He smelled heavenly, an earthy musk with a hint of patchouli and cedar. She pressed in closer to him, happy to disappear into his tall body and strong chest.
He kissed the top of her head. His hands caressed her back, then found her waist and his grip tightened just a hint as they rested on her hips.
She thought of their night of passion together, how electrifying and sensual his touch had been. She longed for more of that intimacy with him. Forgetting the stress of the charity ball inside and feeling her body warm to his touch, she leaned back from him to look at his chest. She ran her hands up it, feeling his muscles underneath the expensive tux. She slipped her hands inside his jacket, over his shirt. Her one hand rested over his heart, she could feel it beating fast. She smiled to herself, she liked being able to elicit a response from him. She felt very feminine in his arms, and her feminine body was responding to his full on masculine one.
“I haven’t stopped thinking of our…play date,” he whispered to her. “How you felt in my hands, how you tasted.” He closed his eyes as she let her hands slide slowly down his chest to his waist.
“Neither have I,” she whispered. “Your body is exquisite.” He had a power to take her sexual arousal from zero to sixty in no time. She had never experienced anything so potent with a man before. It was overwhelming all of her senses.
He let out a soft moan. “So is yours. And I want to see more of it.”
“Oh you do, do you?” she teased as she felt his hips, strong, wider than hers due to his big build. She reveled in his size. She caressed the sides of his hips seductively as she took a deep breath, ensuring her bosom looked full to him. She felt him shudder slightly.
He was trying hard to keep his body’s responses in check as she now put more pressure into her caresses.
She liked that she was pushing his buttons, that he wasn’t fully in control when they got close. In this moment, she wanted to shift a little more of that control. She wanted to explore more of him, see what other responses she could elicit, recalling how his manhood had felt in her hand that night, how hard he had been. Such a sexual being, he was.
“You know I do,” he said looking at her intently, his desire clearly etched on his handsome face.
She smiled seductively, then slowly looked down and back up his body. She then held his gaze as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her bosom into his chest. “Giorgio, you are simply magnificent in clothes or out of them.” She felt mischievous, knowing the danger of being caught at any moment. It excited her. She wasn’t usually so bold, so daring, but the champagne plus her state of arousal compelled her to push the envelope just a little farther. She pressed the rest of her body against him as well.
“Anabelle,” he whispered, his voice low and hoarse.
She writhed sensually against his firm body. “Yes?” she asked, her voice a low purr. She looked up at him, pretending not to know what was on his mind or what effect she was having on him. She swayed her hips just a hint slowly from side to side, feeling his body clearly respond. She was generating some dangerous heat between them.
His hands gripped her hips, holding them still. She tried to writhe out of his grip, but he held her firm. He pressed his lips to her ear. “You little devil,” he whispered, “you’re enjoying this. Teasing me, knowing I can’t do anything about it.” He leaned the side of his head against hers. His breath was hot against her neck, his breathing heavy. He held her hips away from his.
“You started it,” she whispered back. She wanted to press close to him, press herself into him. Her primal side was taking over. She no longer cared about the hundreds of people close by. She felt emboldened, her instincts clamoring for more touch, more taste, more feel. She lifted her head and with one hand, laced her fingers into his thick hair. She pulled his head down until his lips met hers. His lips parted, her tongue pressing into his. She kissed him with a passion, a hunger that begged for more, that begged to get closer, to explore, to invite, to seduce.
She felt him shudder again. His hands moved up her side to just below her breasts, and lingered, tentative, wanting to touch, wanting her femininity. He pulled away, his breathing heavy, his eyes half-lidded, his lips swollen and red. She wanted him.
“Anabelle,” he said, “stop. I-I can’t…I’m losing…”
She smiled and reached up to kiss him again. She wanted to taste him, to entice him into doing something she knew they shouldn’t. She pushed her hips hard into his, escaping his grip. She felt his body’s desire as he hardened even more. She was thrilled.
He inhaled sharply as he felt her body brazenly press against the building pressure between his legs that he was now desperately trying to fight off and get control of. He groaned, pushing her away. “No, please…Anabelle, I-I have to stop…please…” he said, his voice strained, as he closed his eyes and lowered his head. His hands went to her shoulders, squeezing them, then releasing. His breathing was labored. He pressed his lips together. His face was etched into a frown, a look of discomfort crossing his perfect features.
He looked so sexy and vulnerable to her in that moment. Part of her wanted to prey on that sexual power she felt over him. Her mind imagined dragging him down the stairs, pushing him down hard onto the cool grass. Unbuttoning his shirt, then working her way lower. Taking him as he groaned in sexual ecstasy beneath her. She wanted to conquer him, to look at him, to make him do what she wanted in this moment. She had never felt such a primal hunger to take a man before. It was exhilarating, dangerous, mouth-watering. Her body ached with the heat he stirred within her.
“But I’m having a hard time slowing down,” she said, breathlessly. “Besides, I like where we left off last time. I want more.” She could see the sexual agony on his face. It was delicious to her. He was like a drug for her. She moved to get closer.
His hands quickly went to her hips, firmly holding her away from him.
She gave him a challenging look.
He held her gaze, then shook his head. “It’s not fair, you little vixen. I can’t hide my arousal, you know that.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “You’re doing this to me on purpose,” he then whispered. “You know what you do to me.”
“And what you do to me,” she countered.
He gave her a pointed look. “It’s real easy for you to conceal it, but I’m male and it’s a whole different story for me.” His tone was one of playful admonishment. She was causing him what was now turning into discomfort and a lot of potential embarrassment if anyone saw him right now. He bit his own lip hard to give his mind a different sensation to focus on.
She pouted. “I’m being scolded.”
He laughed. “Yes, you are, deservedly so,” he said, his tone still a bit terse. “Now I’m going to need you to punch me hard or something. Sudden pain should help my…condition.”
“Pain, huh?” She licked her lips. “Now where shall I punch you to help your unfortunate…condition?” she asked, dropping her gaze below his waist. Her eyes went wide. The bulge in the front of his pants was distinctly more pronounced now. She gave a dramatic sigh. “I was growing rather fond of that.”
“Oh you…you’re relentless,” he said, his lips curling into a frustrated grin. He grunted and dug his fingers into her hips. “I think I was wrong, you’re the one who should be punished. Severely.”
“Yes, I think you’re right,” she replied. She placed her finger on his chest. “So what are you going to do about it? Just let me get away with this?”
“You’re killing me,” he uttered through gritted teeth and looked up at the sky. He then regarded her for a moment, trying to understand what she was actually intending to do at this very public event. Still holding her firmly in his grip, he swallowed hard. “I’m not a toy, you know.”
Well, parts of you are, she thought, knowing she dare not say anything else suggestive aloud.
He saw the look on her face. It was plain as day. “I can read your mind, you know, you little brat.”
She blushed. But she understood. She backed off, now feeling bad about things.
He closed his eyes and concentrated, finally corralling the wild stampeding horses that had been coursing through his body.
A couple of minutes later, they heard footsteps heading their way.
Giorgio quickly adjusted himself.
Anabelle smoothed her hair and wiped any errant lipstick away. She brushed it off of his lips, too.
The footsteps got closer. “There you are,” the woman’s voice said. “Someone said they saw you heading this way.” It was Portia.
Anabelle’s face fell.
“Hiding out?” she asked as she came down the steps to join them on the landing. “At one of the biggest events of the year?”
Giorgio cleared his throat. “Just getting some air and taking a break from all the small talk.” He was glad for the shadows down on this terrace level, so she wouldn’t be able to see them too clearly at the moment.
“Sure,” she said, “like I’ve never used that excuse before. Please.” She stepped in between them. “Besides Giorgio, you’re usually working the room all night like no one’s business.” She sized up the two of them, taking in their nervous, awkward appearances. She flicked her hair and huffed.
“Things can change, Portia,” he said, the irritation evident in his voice. “What can I do for you?”
“Well actually, I need to talk to you. Alone. That is if I can drag you away from your little distraction,” she said, giving Anabelle another, even colder look. “There’s a business matter I want to talk to you about…privately.”
Giorgio sighed. “Really, right now? It can’t wait?”
Anabelle was steamed at Portia’s attempt to marginalize her. She was the one she wanted to punch.
“No, it can’t,” she said firmly. “That’s why I was looking all over for you.” She turned to Anabelle, “Sorry to drag him away from your little high school moment, but this is very important.”
Anabelle felt her face go red. She was so mad she couldn’t think of a civilized comeback, so she held her tongue.
Giorgio took Anabelle by the s
houlders. “I’ll be back shortly.” He kissed her forehead.
Portia rolled her eyes.
“Okay,” Anabelle said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Good girl,” Portia said with a smirk. She grabbed Giorgio’s arm and led him back up the stairs. She turned back for a moment in a dramatic pose, her long leg showing through the high slit of her dress. “Besides, he’s far too popular with the ladies for one woman to keep him to herself. Always has been,” she purred, as she squeezed his arm.
Giorgio turned back around. He looked mad. “Don’t listen to her,” he said as Portia dragged him upstairs.
Anabelle felt her heart sink. She didn’t know what to think or what to make of their relationship. She clenched her hands into fists. “I can’t stand that woman,” she said under her breath. She leaned over the balcony to take some deep breaths and calm down. She tried to tell herself that Portia was just trying to get under her skin. She knew the type, always working some kind of angle to get the upper hand on someone. But still she thought as she recalled all of the women who had their eye on him and that was just at this one event, where he had brought a date. She was heading for trouble, she feared.
Reluctantly, after about ten minutes of trying to calm her nerves and flaring emotions, she headed back up to the ball, feeling like a fish out of water.
She looked around, but didn’t see where Giorgio and Portia had gone. She wasn’t going to try and hunt him down, though. He could come find her when he was done. She’d do her best to play it cool. She weaved through the crowd. It was hard not knowing a single soul, but there were so many people, she hoped she wouldn’t stand out too much as a loner. She eventually made her way to the bar, the place that wayward souls and lonely misfits gravitated to at uncomfortable parties.
“What can I get you, miss?” the young, good-looking bartender asked.
“Prosecco?” she asked.
“A very nice choice,” he said, smiling.
She liked the polite demeanor of the staff here. At least they were being paid to be nice to her. She’d take whatever she could get.
Love in the City, an erotic romance novel Page 16
