The Perfect Someday (A standalone novel ~ Book three in The Mathews Family)

by Beverly Preston

  A deep lascivious rumble of satisfaction echoed in her ears right before he took her mouth hard, the kiss demanding in its force. His tongue probed into her mouth, tangling with hers, plunging in sync with the thrusts of his hips. She groaned into his mouth and he sunk lower, sliding his ridge over her clit with heavy pressure.

  Tracy’s hips lifted to greet him. She released one hand from the iron scrolls, reached out to touch his face.

  Vincent stopped all movement. He shot her a somewhat playful look of disappointment.

  She blinked. “But…”

  He scowled a cautionary warning and she raised her hands to the headboard, wriggling her hips flat to the bed.

  He bent claiming her mouth again. The kiss was sensual and erotic, fierce pleasure in its potency. Vincent teased her for what seemed like an eternity, gliding his solid length along the glazed wetness. Heat gathered on her skin in a fine mist of perspiration, her orgasm lurked. Tearing his mouth from her swollen lips and his cock from her trembling thighs, he backed off robbing her of release.

  A long drawn out whimper tumbled from her lips. He hummed in utter satisfaction at her protest. Vincent lowered, grazing over her neck and chest. The stubble of his beard scraped over the delicate skin, sending a tremor of delight through her. His half-parted lips nibbled from one breast to the other. Vincent rolled his tongue around the taut rosy peak sucking it into the heat of his mouth, biting gently.

  The sweet burn of his breath drifting lower sparked a delicious fire to every nerve ending she possessed. She whimpered, digging her fingernails into her palms, grasping to the headboard. Her body clenched and tightened as his tongue parted the sacred seam between her folds, spurring her pulse. His thumb swirled over the tingling flesh, ripping a cry from her throat. He purred in contentment, languidly lapping, priming her with the mere tip of his tongue. Unbearable relief mounted, her breathing came in loud raspy pants.

  The heat of his mouth vanished as Vincent pulled away. She felt like she was on fire, ready to burst into flames. The sheer goodness was too much for her to endure. Tracy squirmed, her voice unrecognizable to her own ears as she begged, “Make love to me. Right now, Vincent. Take me.”

  “I’m going to take you.” His voice edgy with claim, he added, “You are Mio Amore.”

  Kneeling back on his haunches, Vincent stroked himself a few times. Her mouth fell slack watching the ropes in his forearm flex beneath the dusting of dark hair. The concrete muscles in his thighs strained each time he constricted his hand around his shaft. Vincent reached beneath her bottom, carefully hoisting her hips with his free hand. His grey eyes caressed the thrashing beat of her heart with one slow blink. He positioned himself, nudging gently at first, easing into the heat of her supple flesh. Tightness yielding to his thickness as he rocked into her with force. She cried out joyously at the heavy penetration, “Yes! Oh God yes!”

  Reaching for her nipple, he twisted the damp flesh between middle finger and thumb. Urgencies of pleasure quaked through her in rich, thick tremors. Her toes curled and she contracted around him.

  Scooting up farther on his knees, he gave her more, impaling with rhythmic thrusts. His voice shredded, “Do you like it this way?”

  Gripping the bars, she wrapped her legs around him arching greedily to meet his thrusts, digging her heels into the back of his thighs. Tracy felt his hand leave her breast. His thumb skated and swirled around her slick clit, turning with precise determination.

  “Oh yes, I’m gonna come...hard.” Her eyes rolled back in sheer bliss. Thoughts splintered as spasms rolled over her in a fierce storm, nearly violent in nature.

  “Together, bella.” His voice was rough, thrusting deep. She went wet, contracting around the thickness, drawing out his release. A long shudder coursed through him, filling her with lustrous heat.

  Tracy gasped for air, struggling for a full breathe. Prying her stiff fingers from the bars, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. The weight of her hips collapsed to the sheets and she unhooked her shaky legs from his thighs. Wet kisses fell down the side of her face. He stayed wedged inside her, slick and warm, rolling them on their sides. She let out a long joyful sigh adjusting her curves to fit the dips of his hard planes.

  Lifting her chin, Tracy looked up at him in complete awe. “I had no idea making love could feel this amazing.”

  “Nothing has ever felt this good.” The depth of his intense stare was alarming. He pressed a long kiss beside her temple. “I won’t be without you again, Tracy.”

  The gravity of the situation came down around her hearing him call her by name. Thousands of miles of geological distance stretched between them for so long, though she’d never felt closer to anyone. The half mile between his place and the Levi’s Villa seemed an unbearable separation, however the mere thought of leaving him to go back to Colorado was excruciating. Nothing held her to Colorado, or anywhere else for that matter. Their time apart brought each of them to a level of dark loneliness that neither wanted to experience again.

  “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

  Exhausted and spent, her eyes slid closed. She dozed off, snuggled in his arms under the star-filled night sky. She woke later to the feeling of warm wetness between her legs. Vincent washed her off with a hot cloth.

  “Go back to sleep my love,” his tone subdued. He climbed back into bed and she molded herself to his side, hitching a leg over his hips.

  The dim orange numbers of the alarm clock on the nightstand read 3:37am when she awoke again. Tracy eased away from the radiating heat of his body and tiptoed to the bathroom. When she returned Vincent was still sound asleep, one arm bent and draped over his head. The white sheet swathed one leg up to the top of his thigh.

  She stood paralyzed beside the bed, captivated by the beautiful sight of him, bronze skin sleek under the moonlight, sleeping so soundly. Intense heat spread through her chest, penetrating deep into her heart. The warmth licked up her neck, setting fire to each place his lips had touched her a few hours before. Her fingers came to her mouth, circling her lips, tender and swollen from the bristle of his beard. The scent of him lingered in her hair as her head tilted.

  A tingling burning of sensations gathered in her nose. The effect this man had on her heart was unspeakable.

  Reminders of their deep connection made that night in Greece had felt so wonderful at first, but brought her to her knees in the months that followed. The powerful memories of affection, feelings of love, rose to the surface.

  Tracy had made so many unspoken promises to herself in the middle of a hundred sleepless nights. She refused to ever deny herself a moment, a rare magical instant, if it ever arose again. Living with regret was an unacceptable option in her life.

  Her nose twitched and she sniffled.

  Vincent stirred reaching for her. He opened his eyes, head darting from side-to-side, groping the empty area at his side.

  Tracy touched his side, stilling his jumpy movements. “I’m right here.” Her voice was tender, slipping through the darkness.

  The bed dipped as she sat on the edge. A relieved smile tempered his features. She drew in a long shaky breath, sniffing back the uncontrollable feelings strumming in her heart.

  The sexy sleepy grin drained from his face. “What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

  She swallowed hard, nodding, not trusting her voice. Tracy tried to force a reassuring smile, but unshed tears spilled, rolling down her cheek.

  Vincent sat straight up in bed. He brushed away her tear with the pad of his thumb. “What’s wrong my love. Are you hurt?”

  His hands roamed over her arm, moving along her thigh, and rolling small wandering circles over her midriff.

  “I’m not hurt.” She could barely keep a decent thought in her brain looking at him, all rumpled and mouthwateringly. He was absolutely tantalizing.

  “Tell me. What is it?”

  Be brave. Say what you want to say. “I’ve never gotten over that night, Vincent. It has h
aunted me for so long.”

  He interrupted, “I can’t change what happened that night. I can only make certain it doesn’t happen again. I should’ve never let you get in that car. I thought you intentionally—“

  “Vincent.” Breathless she added, “I fell in love with you that night.”

  The sweet caresses on her stomach came to a halt.

  “Believe me, I know how absurd that sounds. It sounds crazy to my own ears! Does that sound crazy to you? How can someone, you, affect me so incredibly deeply in such a small amount of time? How is that even possible?”

  Vincent’s gaze locked on her, brimming with adoration. His eyes reflected the moons illumination, threads of dark grey seeping into the light irises turning them a hypnotic hue of baby blue.

  “I knew that I would never feel the same way about another woman,” he added quietly before allowing her to continue. A knowing grin tipped the edge of his mouth, recognizing she needed to get the words out.

  “I always assumed falling in love would take time, months or even years, getting to know someone. There is so much I don’t know about you yet. What kind of music do you like? What’s your favorite movie? Which sports do you enjoy? Honestly, it’s a little alarming! I usually take notes, keep a schedule, weigh the pros and cons, but I don’t care about any of that. Because this…” Her hand came to his chest, treasuring the rapid beats beneath her fingers. “This feels better than anything else in the world.”

  Sliding his fingers around her wrist, Vincent brought the silken pale skin to his lips, absently testing her pulse. His lids closed inhaling the fragrance of her skin.

  “I feel more like myself when I’m with you, than when I’m without. I feel whole with you. Complete. And believe me…I know how cheesy this all sounds.” Her eyes gave a cynical eye roll. “But, I can’t help it.”

  “That night, when I called you Amore Mio…I didn’t do it to impress you. It just slipped out. I’d never said it to another woman…prior to Maggie.” He cupped her face, tipping her gaze upward. His eyes closed slowly, forming sharp shadows on his cheekbone as he drew a deep inhale through his nose. “I have loved you from the moment I saw you standing at the wall in Greece.”

  The painful sensation lodged in her throat as he gathered her into his arms. Tears streamed down the crease of her nose dripping from her chin. “I used to wonder if you ever thought of me. Or if you were married or had children. Or if you—”

  Vincent’s mouth moved to hers, warm and velvety, silencing her heartbreak. His masculine weight came over her, gently rolling.

  “Ti amo,” Vincent whispered in his native tongue as he made love to her again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Tracy felt sore and euphorically exhausted crawling out of bed the next morning, wakened by the sound of her phone. She trotted down the stairs, naked, but missed the familiar ring. Vincent stood near the foot of the stairs with her phone in his hand. The morning sunshine faintly catching his smile in the shadows.

  “I was just bringing you your phone. It was May, I mean…”

  He stopped mid-sentence dragging a lusty glance down her nude body. She flushed hard, reaching for the phone, but he quickly reneged, holding it out of reach. He threw his empty hand around the small of her back, snatching her to his frame. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve dreamed of telling you good morning after making love to you all night?”

  “Good morning.” She squealed as he bit the sensitive dip in her neck. The blistering tingle, pushing the description of heavenly. Lifting one arm around his neck, she pressed her lips to the hallow of his throat, playfully reaching for her phone.

  “Si`. It is a very good morning. Are you dying to call your sister?”

  “Yes!” A wide giddy smile stretched across her lips. Tracy nodded keenly. “Wanna see me drive her crazy?”

  He gave a husky chuckle handing her the phone. Tracy wriggled her brows sending her sister a text reading,

  6:43 am - Morning! Cherry Garcia!!!

  Making their way back upstairs, Tracy explained the cryptic comparison to ice cream. Vincent assured that she would need to come up with a new flavor because nothing she’d ever tasted was going to compare to him.

  6:44 am – Woo hoo!!! Yes!!! You have two minutes to get your ass out of bed and call me!!!

  6:46 am – There’s more! Vincent is The Italian!!! I’ll call you later.

  Tracy added a winky face and Vincent made a jovial sour face at the unfair torture tactic.

  6:46 am – Blurred Lines screamed from her phone.

  Resting the phone on the table, Tracy dared to push the speaker button, answering with a casual, “Ciao.”

  “Shut the fucking front door and slam it hard! Are you shitting me? Vincent is The Italian?”

  “Hello, May.” Amusement riddled his voice and flushed his face.

  “Well…hello, Giovanni.” JC’s tone teetered between thrilled and loathing. “What the hell is going on? I’m on speaker phone, so obviously everything is going swimmingly. Does someone…” JC cleared her throat indicating Vincent needed to explain. “want to enlighten me as to why he never called my sister?”

  Tracy and Vincent did a quick recap of their recent discovery. Sorrowful glimpses tosses between them, each apologizing to the other, while rehashing the story. JC’s squeals of delight mixed with awe, sounding as if she were picking out an adorable puppy or holding a brand new baby.

  “I’m so happy for you guys! Hey, can I call everyone and tell them the good news? Please? I’ll even tell them not to call and bother you. Holy shit, Momma is gonna be so happy. Lisa is gonna freak out!”

  Tracy and Vincent each gave a small shrug and nod of approval. “Sure, that would be great. Give Momma a big hug for me too.”

  “How’s the job going? And when are you coming home?” JC questioned enthusiastically, “Maybe you can stop in Malibu for a few days.”

  Her questions hit Tracy hard, nearly dropping her to the floor. Vincent’s head recoiled at the deplorable suggestion. His brows knit together and a grimacing scowl wore deeply into each fine line, contorting his face. Tracy met his eyes. She swallowed hard, pushing down the upsurge of angst growing inside. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out except a soft whoosh of air.

  “Hello?” JC said. “Are you guys still there?”

  His gaze darkened. Vincent shook his head once before crushing his mouth to hers. Tracy’s fingers gouged into his silky layers of hair, holding him to her lips. Something instinctual flourished between, an unspoken agreement. He broke the kiss, both gasping for oxygen. Heavy pants filled the razor thin space between them as he rested his forehead to hers. She nudged her nose to his.

  “Hello? Are you guys seriously making out while I’m on speaker phone?”

  “Sorry, sis.” Tracy replied, her voice breathy beneath his lips. “I don’t know when I’m coming back.”

  “Umm, that mental image is a bit too much for me right now, so I’m hanging up.” JC made a gagging sound followed by a snicker. “Call me when you come up for air. Love you.”

  Vincent cupped her jaw, the tips of his fingers playing softly across the thin skin. Their eyes met and he shook his head again. “I am not letting you go this time.”

  ****

  The following days were spent sprawled out in bed, taking long walks through the vineyard, and stealing away to the castle on the hill which they dubbed Their spot. Mesmerized by its grandeur, they wandered through the vacant property, indulging in his finest wine and each other.

  She loved everything about him. Vincent’s confidence was immeasurable, capsulated in a casual package of rational persona that Tracy could only describe as the seamless balance of perfection meant for her. She found him to be intelligent, amusing, and caring, mixed with dashes of stubbornness and determination. And on top of all his masculine sex appeal, the man was kind of old fashioned, always putting her first, in and out of bed.

  Stretched out on a blanket beneath the giant oak, tiny buds
nestled against the twigs preparing for spring, they shared stories of their lives. Each of them grew up in a comfortable lifestyle, with hard work and respect acting as the backbone of their values. Like any good Italian, Vincent spoke respectfully of his mamma, praising her natural ease of engaging people. He stated that if she truly adored visitors, she would invite them for dinner and spoil them with an authentic Italian meal.

  Tracy came to the realization that he and Antonio grew up very close. Though they disagreed on many things, they were close. Vincent mentioned his father, but there was something he held back. Something disconcerting, a disappointment that lurked in his tone.

  All her life, Tracy was constantly compared to her mother. Out of mere curiosity, she asked Vincent if he took after his papa. His abrupt denial startled her.

  Seeing the look of surprise plastered on her face, he explained that Antonio inherited more of their papa’s genes.

  “Oh.” Understanding began to sink in. “Oh.”

  “I hold much respect for my papa, as a father and for his work…”

  “But?” She rubbed the tension from the blades of his shoulders.

  “I know my mamma loved him, she treasured him, but he had many mistresses over the years. It wasn’t right.”

  “Did she know?”

  “I suspect she knows, though she would never speak badly of him.”

  He went on to explain that his papa used to take him to town when he was a young boy, using Antonio and Vincent as an excuse, to see his girlfriends. Sadness sunk into her bones, sensing his pain and distress. Tracy’s parents were married twenty-five years before her daddy died and they prided their relationship, their lives, on trust and loyalty. She couldn’t imagine how hurtful and confusing it would be to be put in Vincent’s position. He continued, divulging that his papa’s weakness was the biggest thing that separated him from Antonio.