Every Single Thing About You: A “Tuck Yes” Love Story - Book 3

by Hopkins, Faleena

He stops, and returns to me, a shadow over his eyes again despite the beating sun.

  Chapter 24

  Shopping was more brutal than normal. Never been interested in browsing. I’m like most guys — get what I need and get out. With a plan.

  But this was a group activity in a foreign country, whole different vibe, sure. I’ve never been to Sorrento, and it’s beautiful. There’s no denying it.

  But now that I know what I want, nothing is more beautiful to me than her.

  Every damn store we went inside I couldn’t see anything that was pointed out — have no memory of a single item — because my mind was grinding over what she thought about what I’d said.

  What I want.

  Now that we’re alone, she wants to talk? I don’t like her tone. I feel the worst is coming.

  It was a possibility she’d say no to me, I made that clear to everyone. But inside of my gut the belief wasn’t there. Now I’m second-guessing my instincts.

  Before she has a chance to speak, I raise my hand, “Tempest, stop,” volume private because I don’t need an audience of tourists if I’m about to get kicked to the curb. Holding her gaze I explain, “Ever since we met on that rooftop I felt you were into me.” Her eyes flash, but I continue, “Suddenly I’m realizing I may have been wrong.”

  “May have?!” she snaps, aghast.

  “Was I?” Taking a step closer, inches away like I was on the beach, I search her face. “Because I was so into you it scared me. Did you notice I couldn’t look at you after we were introduced? Could you tell I wanted out of there?” Confused, she nods once. “That’s because I hadn’t felt an attraction as strong to anyone since back in college when I met Leah. I know some married guys see a beautiful woman and let their minds wander, but I never did that. Nobody got through. When my friends and I walked up and you looked at me, something kicked me in my chest. I hated it. I hated you. I wanted nothing to do with that feeling or with you. You think I was rude. I wasn’t. I was terrified. It was too soon, and I wanted no part of it. Do you understand?” Dragging my hand down my face, I blink at the sun. “You can’t understand, what am I saying?” Locking eyes with Tempest, I hold her stare. “I never thought I’d be lucky enough to find someone that I feel this way about. I thought I was going to be alone, and that I should be. That Leah would want that, but I know her. She would never want that for me. Or Will. Ever. In fact, I know that, if she’s been watching over me as everyone says she has, she’s been disappointed. Until now. When I was on that plane coming here, I felt right again. I knew what I was doing. I knew she would be happy for me. I could feel it in my heart. I loved her so much, and I always will. But I’ve been falling in love with you since I first laid eyes on you, and I don’t want to hate you anymore. Do you know what it feels like to let love in?” Tempest shakes her head. “It feels like this.” I kiss her, pressing my lips to hers and wait for a response. She throws her arms around me, and I crush her body to mine, the kiss returned as her mouth yields, softens, and lets me lead the way, kissing her with an angel watching over us, the smell of salt water mixing with Tempest’s sweet scent. I look down into her beautiful face. “Tomorrow, we have some free time. Let’s ride along the coast.”

  Dazed and happy, she nods with a growing smile, “Okay,” and a tear slides down her cheek.

  I kiss it and whisper, “Was this for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it a happy tear?”

  “Very!”

  “Then I’ll keep it.”

  Chapter 25

  During our meal back at the villa, we sat together, but the table held six and conversation flowed evenly, and she didn’t let on what happened between us. I understood it — this is her work.

  Dinner was interesting. Almost ordered two meals I was so hungry. Glad I didn’t because our nighttime practice proved to be less relaxing than the night before.

  “You’re battling jet lag, so I’m going to knock you out tonight,” Tempest informed us all, “Give you a good night’s rest.”

  After the night’s practice I stayed behind and walked Tempest to her room, kissed her goodnight, lingering before she kicked me back to mine with a firm, “I have to be up early.”

  The next day the group visited two museums, had lunch at Piazza Tassa — the main square — where everyone split up to follow differing tastes.

  I didn’t get Tempest alone until the third day after the group had lunch in Positano, one of the most charming places I’ve ever visited in my life. I picked up the check for everyone, arguing with Ms. Tuck that it covered a couple days of my included meals I never paid for.

  We all went shopping in Amalfi — a tourist trap, unfortunately, and when they headed back, we had hours of spare time, and rode along the coast on our rented scooter, her holding tight to me as we pointed out to each other every beautiful sight that grabbed our attention.

  For the next few days we were inseparable, but during her classes and with the group, we kept affection private, out of deference to her position and goals. I knew people were beginning to suspect, no matter how chaste we tried to appear, and it struck me that hiding it might cause resentments that she wasn’t being forthright.

  I paid for more meals, but made sure it was fair since everyone had paid. She shouldn’t have more profit just because I was picking up the bill.

  We handled ourselves well.

  Nobody could fault us, her, or the retreat she’d assembled. In fact, everyone was having an amazing time, and it’s been an incredible thing to be a part of. Especially because, on a personal note, the time Tempest and I spent, with the group and without, gave us a chance to get to know each other, and just be together. They say if you can travel together you can be happy, too.

  The days have passed in a way that felt natural, unhurried, aligned with the lifestyle of Italy.

  Then today, after morning practice and breakfast, the group traveled to Naples, a city that exhausted many of us after the quiet life we’ve been enjoying.

  I passed out as soon as we got home with a nap that felt like I’d never slept before. My shower should have been cold with how my cock ached for alone time with her.

  I was done waiting, even stroking myself as steam fogged the mirror and tiled walls until I broke open, didn’t take the edge off.

  All reconvened for dinner tonight at the scheduled hour, in a restaurant called Ristorante Moonlight that was walking distance from the villa. When I walked in on my own, Tempest smiled with a lifted eyebrow, the seats beside her filled. “You’re late, Mr. Arosio.”

  “Needed a shower.”

  “I took a shower.”

  “Guess mine was longer. Bet it was better, too.”

  She tilted her head in a curious way, but dropped it. Not that I would’ve shared more details, but my smirk implied there were some.

  And now, during Shivasana, I’m lying under the moonlight with my eyes closed after a practice I didn’t break a sweat at. Satisfied with improvement, I smile, and feel a toe poking my hip. I reach to grab her leg, but miss, and hear a laugh stifled before she smoothly addresses the group, “Thank you for attending practice tonight — I know how tired many of you were after Naples.”

  Shaun grumbles, “What if I slept right here?!”

  Ignoring him, she continues, “Roll onto your sides, place your alternate palm flat on the ground and slowly press yourself up. Sit with your legs crossed in Lotus, hands in prayer pose.”

  She joins us, gracefully lowering herself onto her lavender mat in black yoga pants and yellow sports-bra-halter I can’t keep my eyes off of, long hair bundled on top of her head, several braids threaded in. Toenails black. Fingernails yellow. She has a thing for color. I like it.

  “You close your eyes, too, Josh.”

  “Kinda hard when you’re looking that beautiful, Tempest.”

  She gasps, along with most of them. Some twist to look at me and say, “Awww!”

  Shaun mutters under his breath, “I knew it!”

&nbs
p; “Okay, okay,” she sighs, “Let’s focus here.” We close our eyes as her blessing floats on a warm breeze, “May your sleep be filled with peace, and may you wake knowing how wonderful you really are. Thank you, everyone. Namaste.”

  “Namaste,” repeats the class.

  Including me.

  There are differing meanings online — I looked it up — so as we gather our things, I ask my neighbor, “Hey Joan, what does Namaste mean?”

  “I bow to you. I honor you, because I am you. We are all connected.”

  “Huh.”

  She waves, “Meredith!” and hurries over to whisper something in the other woman’s ear.

  I overhear the response, “I could go for a drink,” not whispered back, and that gets overheard, inspiring several uninvited volunteers.

  Returning to collect her things, Joan’s got the first frown I’ve seen on her.

  “Didn’t go as planned?” I ask.

  “Nope!” Squatting to roll her mat, she shrugs, “Oh well. It’ll still be fun.”

  A female student I keep forgetting to learn the name of, calls out, “You wanna join us for a cocktail, Tempest?”

  “I’m really tired, but thank you. You go have fun though.” As the woman turns to the others, Tempest glances to me, biting her smile, mischievous eyelashes dropping with her as she kneels to roll her mat, in no hurry, intending to be last to leave.

  Is she thinking what I’ve been thinking, that we have little time left here. Tonight is the night.

  Chapter 26

  I throw my mat under one arm, blanket gripped in my fist as trimmed grass bends under bare feet. “I saw that look.”

  Tempest glances to me, smile sneaky. “Don’t know what look you’re referring to.”

  “Are you really tired?”

  “Very.”

  Nodding once to myself, I sigh, “Ah. Oh well. Okay,” and head off on a distant, “Have a good sleep.”

  At her silence, I glance back, suspicions realized. Not aware I checked on her, Tempest is focused on cleaning up, but her movements are weighted by disappointment. It’s unmistakable.

  Walking to the villa, some from our group automatically join me as they debate what to do with the free time we have tomorrow after practice and breakfast.

  I glance to the small café, and branch off. “See you guys in the morning.”

  Distracted by the freedom of choice to explore as they wish — which some are uncomfortable with, from what I can hear — my exit is hardly noticed as they disappear through the room Tempest dragged me into when she wanted answers that first day. It’s the quickest way outside to tables they’ll no doubt inhabit until no one can keep their eyes open any longer.

  Walking up to Antoni, the man who seems to work the café both day and night, I point my chin at the liquor bottles. “Is that all you’ve got, Antoni?”

  He reaches in his mini-fridge and pulls out a bottle of bright yellow. “Limoncello!”

  I ask, “What is that again?” not wanting to sound like I don’t know, even if I don’t.

  “We make it here! Try it!”

  “Here?” I point to the tile floor.

  “In Sorrento!”

  “Ah, nice. Two glasses. Thanks.”

  He pours, “Main ingredient is lemon!”

  “I like lemon. Sounds good.”

  “You cannot come to Sorrento and not try Limoncello!”

  The guy is so enthusiastic you couldn’t help but smile even if your world was caving in. Thankfully mine isn’t. Not anymore.

  From behind me I hear a throat cleared, and twist my torso to find Tempest in the doorframe, foyer behind her quiet due to the hour and her the last one in.

  I grin, “Oh hi,” motioning to what he’s making me. “A couple of people wanted to try something new.”

  She doesn’t know the couple of people are us.

  Tempest frowns, mat hanging lower. “You’re joining the others outside?”

  “You had to go to bed early.”

  It’s true. You said that. But I plan to be there with you.

  Tempest nods, eyes a little sad. “Right. Goodnight then.”

  “Hope you sleep well.”

  In my arms.

  She gives me a quiet, “You too, Josh,” and heads for the stairs.

  As I pull out my wallet to pay, I listen for her steps and chuckle at how despondent they sound. I’m a generous tipper by nature because what goes around comes around, but Antonio gets the benefit of my amusement and then some.

  Carrying the glasses out, I glance up to the author who created this scenic respite, nodding to him with a quiet, “Thanks for this,” as I take the elevator, just in case.

  When it stops on her floor, I wait inside the car, doors ready to close while I listen. My barefoot juts out to stop them and, hearing only silence, I walk into the corridor without echoing an alert of my approach thanks to no shoes.

  My cock is throbbing, heart beat dancing to Dubstep, yet somehow I’m balancing two bright yellow drinks and my sanity. In fact, I’ve never felt more sure of anything and I can’t pinpoint why. Maybe because when I met Leah I was a kid, barely out of high school. Back then I was modeling, thought looks were everything, until she and Will changed my mind over time.

  I grew into a man who started his own charity and used his looks only to get people to listen to a message worth hearing, one that could help the future for everyone. My confidence I found through that — not through something as transitory as appearances. I was insecure as a model, used arrogance to cover it, because everything depended on my exterior which would change no matter what I did, as time raced on.

  But my interior changed, too, of my own discipline and volition. That kind of change I wanted, and it made my appearance no longer important to me. Making money off it felt hollow. Loving a wife and son, helping people through my charity, speaking at colleges and conventions to spread the word — these things made a man of me.

  Then grief smacked me down.

  I didn’t know if I wanted to try.

  Ever.

  It wasn’t Tempest who brought me out of the darkness.

  I resisted her until it was gone.

  It wasn’t even Will, I’m sorry to say, because his need for me to get better made the pressure to, more great.

  It was friends who reminded me who I really am, the man I’d become and was starting to walk away from.

  It was Bennett’s persistence. His blunt refusal to let me drown. His call for Nax’s help.

  It was Nax’s return to New York City, his non-judgmental guidance back into the light. His jokes. His ability to listen.

  And finally, it was Christina’s need for help that reminded me of my purpose.

  Hers was the final rope thrown, and I grabbed it, pulled myself out of depression’s quicksand once and for all.

  So now I’m here.

  A man in his own skin.

  Wanting to touch a woman’s.

  Wanting to travel with not just through the southern coast of Italy, but through life.

  Tempest opens her door in an oversized T-shirt and nothing else, eyes cutting to the offered cocktails and back to me. “What’s this?”

  I smirk, walking in, “Did you really think I’d choose to spend the night without you?”

  Chapter 27

  “Hold these.” Tempest takes the glasses from me, molten brown eyes searching mine before I kiss her, finding her lips soft, giving, tasting of mint toothpaste and relief.

  I gently kick the door closed. Don’t want to slam it in a place like this, too much respect on too many levels.

  Kissing us up against a wall, our bodies smash together as Tempest holds the cocktails away from us like liquid handcuffs. She gasps free. “I’m still having difficulty believing this is real.”

  “Great,” I nod, stepping away. “Let’s talk.”

  She blinks like one seeing an accident they wish they could stop but don’t know how. “No.”

  I smirk, “That’s wh
at I thought,” and pin her to the wall, cocktails sloshing over her fingers as she lifts her beauty, lips parted, eyes half-closed. We melt together, fabric disappearing as if we’ve taken it off, skin radiating with need. I trail kisses down her neck, bite it and suck as often as the mood hits, enjoying her taste, her shivers of pleasure.

  Working my way up, I growl in the shell of her ear, “This feels real to me. How about you?”

  She moans, writhes, and suddenly brings one of the glasses to her lips, taking a sip, quick to reassure me, “I don’t need to get drunk for this or anything. It…feels like it’s a hundred degrees all of a sudden. I’m parched!”

  “Feed it to me.” I open my lips and Tempest pours the tart local delicacy into my mouth, suddenly crashing hers into mine as I swallow. I grin, touch her tongue with mine, matching lemon flavors, minus the mint for me.

  Our kiss is hypnotic.

  All encompassing.

  My cock is rock hard, joggers doing nothing to hide it. Tempest rises on her tiptoes and presses the mound that protects her pussy against my erection, moaning into my mouth as I make a meal of her. Our bodies are moving on their own. Following the pleasure, and it’s in everything we touch, smell, taste. A primal ache consumes me and all I want is to unlock everything she is and bury myself inside of her.

  Breaking the bond, panting, I jog my chin to the glass. She pours more into my mouth, pouring onto my lips, takes a generous sip for herself, our eyes locked as we swallow. With slippery sweetness we kiss, my groin a burning tide of urgency. “I need you.” I kiss my way down her neck until I relieve her of her handcuffs and plant them on a dresser as old as the one in my room, but not the same, this one lighter brown. Chestnut. I memorize it, all of it, because this night means everything to me now.

  I crook my finger, voice deep. “Come here.”

  She steps forward with a breathless, “Yes.”

  I hold her sultry stare as I suck clean the spilt liquor, first one hand, each finger at a time, then the other. “Your nails match the drink.”