Seduced by the Italian (BBW) (Cougar Erotica)
Page 1
by Lynn Richards
I think that was the best one hundred and sixty dollars
we’re ever going to spend!!
Love you always
SEDUCED BY THE ITALIAN
Joanna stared at the dress in the window, wishing she had the guts – and the body – to wear something like that. The black number had tiny straps that held up a bodice cut in a deep vee down to the breastline and a hemline that would probably brush mid-thigh. It was bold and daring – something Joanna had never been.
Catching sight of her reflection in the glass fronted window, she pushed her blonde hair away from her face. It was her best feature, hanging in silky waves to just below her shoulders. Some of her friends had hinted that she should have it cut shorter. One in particular had bluntly told her that at her age, she shouldn’t have long hair.
For Joanna, it was a personal choice. As much as she loved her friend, she disagreed that everyone over forty should have short hair.
Forty.
She stared at her reflection, noting the small lines around her eyes and mouth that seemed to have appeared overnight. It was hard to believe she was forty years old and divorced. Two things she’d never imagined.
She sighed.
She was forty and frumpy.
Sometimes it felt like only yesterday that she’d graduated law school and started work at the small firm where she was now a partner. She’d met her husband, Bill, there and he was a partner now as well. The divorce six months ago hadn’t been ugly, but it wasn’t amicable either. How could a woman be amicable when she’d given the best years of her life to a man only to find out he’d been banging his much younger secretary on the very desk she’d bought him when he’d made partner?
She’d thought they had a good marriage; that like every marriage after a time, they had become ‘settled.’ Not that being settled in your marriage was a bad thing. She’d simply allowed him to become complacent in their relationship. Bill had actually used the word bored. And yes, it was partly her fault for going along and not making an issue out of what she’d like and the way she’d like things to be.
Especially in the bedroom.
In the last year of their marriage, any type of sex life had been non-existent. He gave her a quick peck in the morning on his way out the door – when she reminded him, of course. And that was basically it. She thought he was tired, working too hard at work. Joanna shook her head. She should have seen the writing on the wall much sooner. But she’d buried her head in the sand.
With a last longing look at the beautiful dress, she moved on down the mall. She’d made the two and half hour drive to Knoxville hoping that the trip would get her out of the doldrums she’d been in since the divorce. It wasn’t that she was still pining after Bill. Truth be told, she’d begun to wonder in the last couple of months if their love hadn’t died a long time ago. That maybe she’d just stayed because it was so comfortable. She’d never been one for change, liking things pre-arranged, neat, and orderly.
Maybe Bill had been right. She was boring.
“Miss? Excuse me, miss?”
Joanna stopped and looked back. A beautiful young man, no more than twenty-eight or twenty-nine was striding toward her, a wide smile on his handsome face. He was tall and slender, well-built, with dark skin and eyes. His manner was both hesitant and practiced.
“Can I show you something?”
Joanna hesitated, looking around her. Maybe he was talking to someone else.
“Please?” He beckoned for her to follow him.
“You want to show me something?” She wasn’t sure why she followed him. Maybe it was the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous with his swarthy skin and flashing white smile. Or maybe it was his accent. She wasn’t quite sure about his nationality but his voice was deep and melodic, the accent so thick that she found herself leaning toward him as he spoke.
She allowed him to take her hand and seat her on a high stool at one of the salon stations situated in that part of the mall. A small mirror sat on a table in front of her along with various styling products. He released her hand and Joanna immediately missed the warmth of his touch. It was wrong to be so drawn to a stranger, especially one almost young enough to be her…well, just too incredibly young for her.
He leaned over her, tunneling his fingers through her thick tresses. He smelled amazing, the clean masculine scent played havoc with her already over-stimulated senses.
“My name is Marco. And you are?”
“Joanna.”
“You have beautiful hair, Joanna.”
“Thank you.” The feel of his hands on her scalp was doing strange things to her entire body. She felt flushed, her skin sensitized.
Oh no! She remembered this feeling. She had to dig back a few years, but she recognized it. She was turned on by the young stud pressing himself against her back.
Was he doing it deliberately?
He moved back slightly and Joanna wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or disappointed.
The look in his velvet brown eyes as his gaze locked with hers in the mirror said he knew exactly what he was doing to her. She told herself it was just a tactic used by a guy who knew he was sexy – and used it to his advantage. He probably did the same thing to every woman he wooed into this chair.
Still, the feel of his broad chest against her back had sent a flutter to her mid-section and beyond.
Flushing, she tried to concentrate on his words and not on the incredible hotness of his young, well-toned body. She couldn’t believe she was salivating over him. Had her hormones suddenly awakened and decided to go on a rampage?
“How often do you have it colored?”
“Excuse me?” She missed that last word.
He grinned, showing even white teeth behind his perfectly chiseled lips. “I am sorry, Joanna. You will forgive my accent. I know it is bad and my American is not so good. But I am half Israeli and half Italian.” He shrugged as though that was that.
He dipped his head apologetically and Joanna found herself wanting to assure him that it was okay. Really, really, okay. Her eyes traced down his body.
I bet his dick is a monster. And I bet he really knows how to use it.
She couldn’t look at him. She had no idea where that thought came from. But now that it had flickered through her brain, she couldn’t get it out. What would it be like to be fucked by this young stud? He could probably go at it all night long without tiring. Her pussy tingled, the sudden wetness between her thighs letting her know that she was not so old after all.
“My words are hard to understand, I know.”
“It’s…not bad at all.”
And neither are you.
She’d bet more than one woman had been seduced by that voice alone.
“You are too nice.” The chocolate brown gaze latched onto hers and, as impossible as it seemed, she would swear that sparkling gleam was desire. For a moment, the rest of the mall faded as he stared at her intently.
“I, um, have my hair colored when I think about it.” She broke the sizzling
contact and plucked a strand off her shoulder. “I don’t really follow a set schedule.”
He moved from behind her and Joanna felt the absence of his heat.
“Where are you from?” She was dying to know.
He took a moment to plug in a flat iron and set out two bottles – one shampoo and the other conditioner.
“I am from San Diego. My company moved me here last year to take over this entire region.” He picked up the heated flat iron. “Let me show you how easy this product is to use.” Taking a strand of her hair he began at the center part of her hair and worked downward, curling the length around the flat iron as he slid it with practiced ease through her hair. The finished result was a shiny, bouncy curl. Using those talented fingers, he divided the thick lock of hair into two curls.
Her straight hair never held curl no matter how hard she tried. Joanna turned her head, admiring the way the hair moved. “That’s amazing.”
“The product heats on both inside and out so that you can do all of your hair in about twenty minutes. There is no damage to the hair and the curl will last until you wash it out.”
“I don’t normally do a lot to my hair. It’s pretty much wash, dry, and go.”
It was all a sales pitch, Joanna knew. He was selling something he wanted her to buy. Of course he was going to use his sex appeal to sell. She shouldn’t feel so let down. Besides, he was still good to look at.
“With this product, it won’t take much time at all.” He opened a drawer and pointed to two product covers, one pink and one purple. “I am not supposed to show you these – they are for the employees – but if you purchase one of these irons today, I will throw in the bag and the shampoo and conditioner for free.”
Joanna considered the curls again. Someday she might decide to do something different.
But probably not.
“How much is it?”
Inclining his dark head so that it was mere inches from hers, he whispered, “I am not supposed to do this either – I am actually losing money – but I will let you have all of this, plus I will give you a certificate for free hair styling for one year, all for the total price of ninety-nine dollars.”
While she considered the offer, he picked up the styling iron and straightened the curls, combing the sleek hair into place.
It really was a fantastic tool.
She’d really like to see his fantastic tool.
“Okay, I’ll take it.”
He grinned that sexy grin. “What color would you like?”
Joanna looked over the various colors. “I’ll take the purple one, please.”
While she extracted money from her wallet, he bagged the items. Joanna handed him the bills and took one last opportunity to ogle his lean form as he turned to finalize the transaction. The wide shoulders tapered to slim hips and a round ass that filled out his jeans nicely.
Oh, to be young again.
“There you are.” He put the receipt in the bag and handed it to her.
“Thank you, Marco.”
“You are welcome…Joanna.”
His pronunciation of her name was like a caress.
Man, he was good.
Too bad she’d never know how good.
All the way down the mall, the smile stayed on her lips. Meeting Marco had put a little zing in her step.
And an ache between her legs.
*
It was late by the time Joanna left the mall. She’d actually enjoyed the afternoon and indulged herself by having a mani-petti. After leaving the salon, Victoria’s Secret had caught her eye. It wasn’t normally where she bought her undergarments, but she figured what the heck. If a young man like Marco could look at her with desire – and yes, she knew part of it was the sales pitch process – then she wanted to feel desirable. The new lingerie was in one of the many bags she put into her trunk, except for the tangerine-colored teddy that she now wore beneath her sundress. Just the feel of the silky material against her skin was a turn on.
She’d parked on the store side of the mall, not the cinema side, and now the parking lot was virtually deserted as she climbed into her car. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she’d skipped lunch. In the spirit of the day, maybe she’d forget about counting calories and treat herself to Italian.
Marco.
Just thinking about all the things she’d like to do with and to the hunky hair stylist had her blood heating. She fanned herself with one hand, cranking the ignition with the other. She needed air conditioning. The car refused to start. With every turn of the key, she could hear a clicking noise.
Now what was she to do? She was two and half hours from home. She didn’t have anyone to call and she wasn’t familiar with any garages in the area. Maybe she could go back in the mall and find someone who could give her some directions.
“Having problems, Joanna?”
Marco stood beside her car, a concerned frown marring his handsome brow.
How could he look so good? There wasn’t a wrinkle in his red polo shirt and not a hair out of place in the beautiful black strands that brushed his collar. He looked like a male model ready to pose.
She could feel perspiration running down the valley between her breasts. She opened the door.
“Um, my car won’t start.”
“Pop the hood and I’ll take a look for you.”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t let you do that.” Joanna wasn’t sure why she was embarrassed. Maybe it had something to do with the provocative thoughts she’d been having about him all afternoon.
“Please,” he smiled down at her and her heart flip-flopped, “it will be my pleasure.”
Okay, did his eyes just assess her tits as he said ‘pleasure’ or was that her overheated imagination?
“Besides,” he continued, “what kind of gentleman would I be if I left a beautiful damsel in distress?”
“Oh,” was all she could manage as she pulled the latch to release the hood. “Alright.”
Flustered, she watched as he lifted the hood and peered into the engine. She had no idea how a car worked. She’d depended on Bill for these kinds of things. It was just another item in a growing list of things that she was going to have to start doing for herself.
Marco appeared at the window. “The battery cables are corroded. Do you have anything I can use to clean them? A screwdriver perhaps?”
Ah, she did have one of those in the roadside maintenance tool kit that Bill had gotten her for her birthday last year.
Another glaring sign of a disastrous marriage that she’d been too blind to see. She’d actually thought the gift meant that he worried about her traveling alone and had been concerned for her safety.
What a fool she’d been.
“It’s in the trunk, in the tool kit.” She popped the truck. “I’ll get it for you.”
“No.” Marco’s hand on her arm raised goosebumps even though it felt like a hundred degrees inside the car.
“You stay there, please. This is not a job for a lady.”
Wow. The amazing thing about that comment was that it didn’t sound sexist at all when he said it. It sounded like a man who knew how to treat a woman.
Would he be that accommodating in bed?
After about ten minutes, he poked his head around the raised hood and asked her to try and start the car.
Keeping her fingers crossed, she turned the key. Nothing happened. Not even the clicks she’d heard before.
“I am sorry.” Marco leaned one hip against the closed rear door and looked down at her. “It seems your battery is dead.”
What a lousy ending to a perfectly good day.
“Is there somewhere I can get a new one installed?” She glanced at her watch. It was now a little past nine o’clock. Darkness had fallen while he’d worked on her car, bringing some relief from the humidity of the day.
“I do not think I know of any place where this could be done so late in the evening.” His tone was apologetic. “I am sorry I could not fix this for you.”<
br />
“It’s not your fault. Thank you so much for trying.” She bit her lip. “Do you think you could give me a lift to the nearest motel?”
“Motel?” He straightened away from the car, peering down at her. “You do not live in Knoxville?”
Joanna shook her head. “No. I just came down for the day.”
“I see.” He pushed his hair back, tucking the long strands behind his ears.
He had great cheekbones.
Among other things.
“Why don’t you come home with me? I live alone and you can sleep in my bed tonight.”
Oh, the temptation.
“I…I couldn’t do that.”
He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise you will be safe.”
Joanna bit her lip. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust herself. “I’m sure I will, but I don’t want to put you out.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Marco smiled. “If you want, I can sleep on the couch.”
Did he mean what she thought he meant?
Opening the door wider, he took her hand and helped her out of the car.
“Is there anything you need from your vehicle before we go?”
She had her purse. “No, I don’t…no.” She couldn’t think with his hand holding hers.
Taking the key from her, he locked the car. His warm hand settled low on her back near the curve of her hip. “I am just over here.”
His ‘car’ was a Jeep Wrangler with the top removed. He settled Joanna in and reached for the seatbelt.
“I can do that.” She reached for the seatbelt but ended up grabbing his hand.
He was so warm, so…masculine.
His gaze bored into hers, his face mere inches away. “I want to make sure no harm comes to you while you are in my care.” He tugged the strap across her body, the back of his hand brushing against her breasts.
Okay, she had not imagined that.
Her nipples tightened in response and she knew he could see the hard buds poking against the thin fabric of her dress. Her breasts weren’t huge, but they were big, like ripe oranges, and firm, even at her age.
His eyes were riveted to the front of her dress. He inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring, as his gaze sought hers again.
Seduced by the Italian
Copyright 2012
Lynn Richards
Wolf Publishing
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WARNING: This book is intended for mature audiences only.
Cover art picture courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net at:
Image: FreeDigitalPhotos.net
I think that was the best one hundred and sixty dollars
we’re ever going to spend!!
Love you always
SEDUCED BY THE ITALIAN
Joanna stared at the dress in the window, wishing she had the guts – and the body – to wear something like that. The black number had tiny straps that held up a bodice cut in a deep vee down to the breastline and a hemline that would probably brush mid-thigh. It was bold and daring – something Joanna had never been.
Catching sight of her reflection in the glass fronted window, she pushed her blonde hair away from her face. It was her best feature, hanging in silky waves to just below her shoulders. Some of her friends had hinted that she should have it cut shorter. One in particular had bluntly told her that at her age, she shouldn’t have long hair.
For Joanna, it was a personal choice. As much as she loved her friend, she disagreed that everyone over forty should have short hair.
Forty.
She stared at her reflection, noting the small lines around her eyes and mouth that seemed to have appeared overnight. It was hard to believe she was forty years old and divorced. Two things she’d never imagined.
She sighed.
She was forty and frumpy.
Sometimes it felt like only yesterday that she’d graduated law school and started work at the small firm where she was now a partner. She’d met her husband, Bill, there and he was a partner now as well. The divorce six months ago hadn’t been ugly, but it wasn’t amicable either. How could a woman be amicable when she’d given the best years of her life to a man only to find out he’d been banging his much younger secretary on the very desk she’d bought him when he’d made partner?
She’d thought they had a good marriage; that like every marriage after a time, they had become ‘settled.’ Not that being settled in your marriage was a bad thing. She’d simply allowed him to become complacent in their relationship. Bill had actually used the word bored. And yes, it was partly her fault for going along and not making an issue out of what she’d like and the way she’d like things to be.
Especially in the bedroom.
In the last year of their marriage, any type of sex life had been non-existent. He gave her a quick peck in the morning on his way out the door – when she reminded him, of course. And that was basically it. She thought he was tired, working too hard at work. Joanna shook her head. She should have seen the writing on the wall much sooner. But she’d buried her head in the sand.
With a last longing look at the beautiful dress, she moved on down the mall. She’d made the two and half hour drive to Knoxville hoping that the trip would get her out of the doldrums she’d been in since the divorce. It wasn’t that she was still pining after Bill. Truth be told, she’d begun to wonder in the last couple of months if their love hadn’t died a long time ago. That maybe she’d just stayed because it was so comfortable. She’d never been one for change, liking things pre-arranged, neat, and orderly.
Maybe Bill had been right. She was boring.
“Miss? Excuse me, miss?”
Joanna stopped and looked back. A beautiful young man, no more than twenty-eight or twenty-nine was striding toward her, a wide smile on his handsome face. He was tall and slender, well-built, with dark skin and eyes. His manner was both hesitant and practiced.
“Can I show you something?”
Joanna hesitated, looking around her. Maybe he was talking to someone else.
“Please?” He beckoned for her to follow him.
“You want to show me something?” She wasn’t sure why she followed him. Maybe it was the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous with his swarthy skin and flashing white smile. Or maybe it was his accent. She wasn’t quite sure about his nationality but his voice was deep and melodic, the accent so thick that she found herself leaning toward him as he spoke.
She allowed him to take her hand and seat her on a high stool at one of the salon stations situated in that part of the mall. A small mirror sat on a table in front of her along with various styling products. He released her hand and Joanna immediately missed the warmth of his touch. It was wrong to be so drawn to a stranger, especially one almost young enough to be her…well, just too incredibly young for her.
He leaned over her, tunneling his fingers through her thick tresses. He smelled amazing, the clean masculine scent played havoc with her already over-stimulated senses.
“My name is Marco. And you are?”
“Joanna.”
“You have beautiful hair, Joanna.”
“Thank you.” The feel of his hands on her scalp was doing strange things to her entire body. She felt flushed, her skin sensitized.
Oh no! She remembered this feeling. She had to dig back a few years, but she recognized it. She was turned on by the young stud pressing himself against her back.
Was he doing it deliberately?
He moved back slightly and Joanna wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or disappointed.
The look in his velvet brown eyes as his gaze locked with hers in the mirror said he knew exactly what he was doing to her. She told herself it was just a tactic used by a guy who knew he was sexy – and used it to his advantage. He probably did the same thing to every woman he wooed into this chair.
Still, the feel of his broad chest against her back had sent a flutter to her mid-section and beyond.
Flushing, she tried to concentrate on his words and not on the incredible hotness of his young, well-toned body. She couldn’t believe she was salivating over him. Had her hormones suddenly awakened and decided to go on a rampage?
“How often do you have it colored?”
“Excuse me?” She missed that last word.
He grinned, showing even white teeth behind his perfectly chiseled lips. “I am sorry, Joanna. You will forgive my accent. I know it is bad and my American is not so good. But I am half Israeli and half Italian.” He shrugged as though that was that.
He dipped his head apologetically and Joanna found herself wanting to assure him that it was okay. Really, really, okay. Her eyes traced down his body.
I bet his dick is a monster. And I bet he really knows how to use it.
She couldn’t look at him. She had no idea where that thought came from. But now that it had flickered through her brain, she couldn’t get it out. What would it be like to be fucked by this young stud? He could probably go at it all night long without tiring. Her pussy tingled, the sudden wetness between her thighs letting her know that she was not so old after all.
“My words are hard to understand, I know.”
“It’s…not bad at all.”
And neither are you.
She’d bet more than one woman had been seduced by that voice alone.
“You are too nice.” The chocolate brown gaze latched onto hers and, as impossible as it seemed, she would swear that sparkling gleam was desire. For a moment, the rest of the mall faded as he stared at her intently.
“I, um, have my hair colored when I think about it.” She broke the sizzling
contact and plucked a strand off her shoulder. “I don’t really follow a set schedule.”
He moved from behind her and Joanna felt the absence of his heat.
“Where are you from?” She was dying to know.
He took a moment to plug in a flat iron and set out two bottles – one shampoo and the other conditioner.
“I am from San Diego. My company moved me here last year to take over this entire region.” He picked up the heated flat iron. “Let me show you how easy this product is to use.” Taking a strand of her hair he began at the center part of her hair and worked downward, curling the length around the flat iron as he slid it with practiced ease through her hair. The finished result was a shiny, bouncy curl. Using those talented fingers, he divided the thick lock of hair into two curls.
Her straight hair never held curl no matter how hard she tried. Joanna turned her head, admiring the way the hair moved. “That’s amazing.”
“The product heats on both inside and out so that you can do all of your hair in about twenty minutes. There is no damage to the hair and the curl will last until you wash it out.”
“I don’t normally do a lot to my hair. It’s pretty much wash, dry, and go.”
It was all a sales pitch, Joanna knew. He was selling something he wanted her to buy. Of course he was going to use his sex appeal to sell. She shouldn’t feel so let down. Besides, he was still good to look at.
“With this product, it won’t take much time at all.” He opened a drawer and pointed to two product covers, one pink and one purple. “I am not supposed to show you these – they are for the employees – but if you purchase one of these irons today, I will throw in the bag and the shampoo and conditioner for free.”
Joanna considered the curls again. Someday she might decide to do something different.
But probably not.
“How much is it?”
Inclining his dark head so that it was mere inches from hers, he whispered, “I am not supposed to do this either – I am actually losing money – but I will let you have all of this, plus I will give you a certificate for free hair styling for one year, all for the total price of ninety-nine dollars.”
While she considered the offer, he picked up the styling iron and straightened the curls, combing the sleek hair into place.
It really was a fantastic tool.
She’d really like to see his fantastic tool.
“Okay, I’ll take it.”
He grinned that sexy grin. “What color would you like?”
Joanna looked over the various colors. “I’ll take the purple one, please.”
While she extracted money from her wallet, he bagged the items. Joanna handed him the bills and took one last opportunity to ogle his lean form as he turned to finalize the transaction. The wide shoulders tapered to slim hips and a round ass that filled out his jeans nicely.
Oh, to be young again.
“There you are.” He put the receipt in the bag and handed it to her.
“Thank you, Marco.”
“You are welcome…Joanna.”
His pronunciation of her name was like a caress.
Man, he was good.
Too bad she’d never know how good.
All the way down the mall, the smile stayed on her lips. Meeting Marco had put a little zing in her step.
And an ache between her legs.
*
It was late by the time Joanna left the mall. She’d actually enjoyed the afternoon and indulged herself by having a mani-petti. After leaving the salon, Victoria’s Secret had caught her eye. It wasn’t normally where she bought her undergarments, but she figured what the heck. If a young man like Marco could look at her with desire – and yes, she knew part of it was the sales pitch process – then she wanted to feel desirable. The new lingerie was in one of the many bags she put into her trunk, except for the tangerine-colored teddy that she now wore beneath her sundress. Just the feel of the silky material against her skin was a turn on.
She’d parked on the store side of the mall, not the cinema side, and now the parking lot was virtually deserted as she climbed into her car. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she’d skipped lunch. In the spirit of the day, maybe she’d forget about counting calories and treat herself to Italian.
Marco.
Just thinking about all the things she’d like to do with and to the hunky hair stylist had her blood heating. She fanned herself with one hand, cranking the ignition with the other. She needed air conditioning. The car refused to start. With every turn of the key, she could hear a clicking noise.
Now what was she to do? She was two and half hours from home. She didn’t have anyone to call and she wasn’t familiar with any garages in the area. Maybe she could go back in the mall and find someone who could give her some directions.
“Having problems, Joanna?”
Marco stood beside her car, a concerned frown marring his handsome brow.
How could he look so good? There wasn’t a wrinkle in his red polo shirt and not a hair out of place in the beautiful black strands that brushed his collar. He looked like a male model ready to pose.
She could feel perspiration running down the valley between her breasts. She opened the door.
“Um, my car won’t start.”
“Pop the hood and I’ll take a look for you.”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t let you do that.” Joanna wasn’t sure why she was embarrassed. Maybe it had something to do with the provocative thoughts she’d been having about him all afternoon.
“Please,” he smiled down at her and her heart flip-flopped, “it will be my pleasure.”
Okay, did his eyes just assess her tits as he said ‘pleasure’ or was that her overheated imagination?
“Besides,” he continued, “what kind of gentleman would I be if I left a beautiful damsel in distress?”
“Oh,” was all she could manage as she pulled the latch to release the hood. “Alright.”
Flustered, she watched as he lifted the hood and peered into the engine. She had no idea how a car worked. She’d depended on Bill for these kinds of things. It was just another item in a growing list of things that she was going to have to start doing for herself.
Marco appeared at the window. “The battery cables are corroded. Do you have anything I can use to clean them? A screwdriver perhaps?”
Ah, she did have one of those in the roadside maintenance tool kit that Bill had gotten her for her birthday last year.
Another glaring sign of a disastrous marriage that she’d been too blind to see. She’d actually thought the gift meant that he worried about her traveling alone and had been concerned for her safety.
What a fool she’d been.
“It’s in the trunk, in the tool kit.” She popped the truck. “I’ll get it for you.”
“No.” Marco’s hand on her arm raised goosebumps even though it felt like a hundred degrees inside the car.
“You stay there, please. This is not a job for a lady.”
Wow. The amazing thing about that comment was that it didn’t sound sexist at all when he said it. It sounded like a man who knew how to treat a woman.
Would he be that accommodating in bed?
After about ten minutes, he poked his head around the raised hood and asked her to try and start the car.
Keeping her fingers crossed, she turned the key. Nothing happened. Not even the clicks she’d heard before.
“I am sorry.” Marco leaned one hip against the closed rear door and looked down at her. “It seems your battery is dead.”
What a lousy ending to a perfectly good day.
“Is there somewhere I can get a new one installed?” She glanced at her watch. It was now a little past nine o’clock. Darkness had fallen while he’d worked on her car, bringing some relief from the humidity of the day.
“I do not think I know of any place where this could be done so late in the evening.” His tone was apologetic. “I am sorry I could not fix this for you.”<
br />
“It’s not your fault. Thank you so much for trying.” She bit her lip. “Do you think you could give me a lift to the nearest motel?”
“Motel?” He straightened away from the car, peering down at her. “You do not live in Knoxville?”
Joanna shook her head. “No. I just came down for the day.”
“I see.” He pushed his hair back, tucking the long strands behind his ears.
He had great cheekbones.
Among other things.
“Why don’t you come home with me? I live alone and you can sleep in my bed tonight.”
Oh, the temptation.
“I…I couldn’t do that.”
He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise you will be safe.”
Joanna bit her lip. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust herself. “I’m sure I will, but I don’t want to put you out.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Marco smiled. “If you want, I can sleep on the couch.”
Did he mean what she thought he meant?
Opening the door wider, he took her hand and helped her out of the car.
“Is there anything you need from your vehicle before we go?”
She had her purse. “No, I don’t…no.” She couldn’t think with his hand holding hers.
Taking the key from her, he locked the car. His warm hand settled low on her back near the curve of her hip. “I am just over here.”
His ‘car’ was a Jeep Wrangler with the top removed. He settled Joanna in and reached for the seatbelt.
“I can do that.” She reached for the seatbelt but ended up grabbing his hand.
He was so warm, so…masculine.
His gaze bored into hers, his face mere inches away. “I want to make sure no harm comes to you while you are in my care.” He tugged the strap across her body, the back of his hand brushing against her breasts.
Okay, she had not imagined that.
Her nipples tightened in response and she knew he could see the hard buds poking against the thin fabric of her dress. Her breasts weren’t huge, but they were big, like ripe oranges, and firm, even at her age.
His eyes were riveted to the front of her dress. He inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring, as his gaze sought hers again.