Roman Reunion (Destination: Desire)

by Crystal Jordan

  “I’m happy to provide an escort.” Karen chuckled. “Your family seems to think you’ll get lost if they let you wander off on your own.”

  “They think because they are not often in Roma, I must be lost here too.” A musical laugh trickled out of Valentina. “I’ve been trying to convince them for many years that I’m not a small-town girl anymore, but they’ll never believe it.”

  “Family,” Karen agreed in a long-suffering tone. She glanced at her watch. “We need to make sure we’re on time to the fitting for your gown.”

  “You will love my dress!” A little skipping step almost tripped both women. “It is perfect. Un bel vestito.”

  Holding on to keep them upright, Karen shook her head at the exuberance. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  And so the afternoon went, Karen getting swept along in the force of nature that was Valentina. She insisted on two new bathing suits for the honeymoon in Bora Bora, earrings to match each one, a new pair of sunglasses, three slinky wrap dresses for the beach and pretty sandals. Karen didn’t even mention price tags—she knew Gio would be happy to buy his bride an entire wardrobe if that kept the wedding on track. And they could afford it, so why rain on the parade?

  To appease her friend, Karen picked up a few inexpensive souvenirs. Funky handkerchiefs that would amuse her brother, a silk tie in her dad’s favorite color. A bracelet for her mother, unique necklaces for Anne, Meg and Julie, and a pretty pair of peridot earrings for herself that would go perfectly with the dress she’d brought for the wedding. Because of the short notice, Valentina and Gio had insisted on no gifts from any guests, so Karen didn’t have to worry about sneaking in shopping for that.

  She was ready to collapse when the cab dropped her off at her hotel. Valentina could shop like nobody’s business. But Karen only had time to drop off her purchases, catch a quick shower, and throw on a dress before she had to make a dash for dinner. Valentina’s grandmother was old school enough to believe in wearing nice clothing for the evening meal. Shorts were verboten and jeans would send the old lady into a swoon.

  After getting to her room, Karen dumped her bags on the bed and went to hose off in the bathroom. Of course, the moment she hopped from the tub, her cell phone rang. She ran to her purse, grabbed her cell and found it was someone using Skype to call her. Someone from America, then.

  She turned on the speakerphone. “Hello?”

  “Hey, hon. It’s Julie.”

  “Hi!” Karen set the phone on the bathroom counter and began applying makeup. “I’m getting ready for dinner, so…multitasking.”

  “Right, it’s afternoon there.” Her friend cleared her throat. “Um. How’s Rome?”

  The hesitant tone let Karen draw the obvious conclusion. “Anne talked to you.”

  “She said you said it was okay, but that we weren’t to mention it. So I’m calling to check in and not mentioning…things.” Julie took an audible breath. “So. How’s Rome?”

  Karen swept blush across her cheekbones, considering her answer. Might as well confess her stupidity—her friends would drag every detail out when she got home anyway. At least she didn’t have to look them in the eye this way. “I let him kiss me. In front of the Cupid statue where we kissed the first time.”

  There was a long pause. “Was it good?”

  Karen jammed a hand down on her hip and glared at the phone. “See? This is why I shouldn’t be talking to you. You’re the instigator in the group! You always egged us on as kids just to see what would happen.”

  “So it was good.” Satisfaction oozed through Julie’s voice, and she didn’t protest the instigator label for an instant. “There’s nothing wrong with a really good kiss. A girl needs those from time to time.”

  Wrinkling her nose, Karen sighed. “Yeah, it was good.”

  “Is he trying to get you back or something?”

  She finished applying her make-up and then carried the cell into her bedroom and laid it on the nightstand. “He hasn’t said anything like that. The drunk sex was…drunk sex. The kiss was like hearing someone sing Memories in my ear while twelve years ago flashed before my eyes.”

  Julie spoke softly, “Do you want him to try to get you back?”

  “No, of course not,” Karen snapped. Her heart tripped and she ignored it. She wouldn’t even let herself consider something so insane, so emotionally suicidal. She would not.

  “That protest was a little too fast and a little too loud to be believable, hon.”

  “I just…we broke up…I had very good reasons for dumping his ass…but everything is just so confused. We’re here again. In Rome.” She rubbed her forehead. “And he quit his job.”

  “What?” Julie screeched the word so loudly the receiver squealed. “Wait, wait, wait. Workaholic Tate Patton quit his job. I heard that right?”

  “He’s going to start his own law firm, he says.” Karen still wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Resentment and the kind of stinging ache you got when you pressed on a bruise. “Not in Palo Alto. He’s moving away.”

  “Where to?” Suspicion colored the other woman’s tone.

  “He’s not sure yet.”

  “I’d bet he’s seriously considering Half Moon Bay.”

  “Julie,” she groaned.

  “He’s gonna try to get you back,” Julie insisted. “He’s realized he was an enormous idiot and a complete horse’s ass and you were the best thing that ever happened to him. Make sure he grovels appropriately before you even consider it.”

  “Julie!”

  “I’m just saying. You deserve begging. And presents. And really toe-curling sex. Like, the best you’ve ever had.”

  Karen huffed out a breath. “Did you make Lukas beg when he stomped all over your heart?”

  “He apologized, but he was an idiot for a couple of weeks, not the better part of a decade. Plus, we weren’t married. Time and commitment level counts.” Complete conviction rang in her friend’s voice. “I mean, if you want him back, go for it. Just make sure you torture him enough that he’s never that dumb again. Or you can just use him as a sex toy while you’re there and forget about any kind of reconciliation. Have fun.”

  “Instigator!”

  “Only because I love you.” Julie made an exaggerated kissing noise. “Go to dinner. And, remember, Tate owes you the best sex of your life, whether you take his ass back or not. Make him pay up.”

  “Goodbye, insane woman.” Karen stabbed the screen to cut the call.

  After shoving her feet into strappy, high-heeled sandals, she grabbed her purse and hustled out the door. Forget walking, she was going to need a taxi to get to Valentina’s on time.

  When she entered the apartment, the place was already crowded. More family members seemed to spill in every day. Gio’s was local, so they didn’t feel the need to be there every second of the day, but they joined in on the boisterous dinners.

  Of course, she was pushed into the chair next to Tate. Of course. It was no longer weird, just a déjà vu feeling of the past coming back to haunt her. She tried to ignore the press of his muscular thigh against hers, the slide of his broad shoulder as it brushed her arm—as she’d done every other evening. It was a futile effort. Her body reacted to his nearness, her breasts growing heavy, her sex aching with a need that wouldn’t quit. Even with the heady aroma of Italian food floating in the air, she could swear she smelled his musky cologne.

  He turned to her. “How was your day?”

  His tone was polite, but something in his gaze made her wary. “Fine. Valentina shopped until I dropped.”

  “Mmm. She mentioned a trip to a naughty lingerie and toy shop.” His eyes widened innocently. “Did you buy anything?”

  The green teddy flashed through her mind, and heat burned her cheeks. “No, I didn’t.”

  A warm voice rumbled in her ear as he leaned close. “Then why are you blushing?”

  Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. He’d turned just enough that he was plastered against her from
knee to shoulder and a hot wave of utter want shook her. Her nipples went taut, her thighs quivering. This was crazy, but her brain and her body were at war because she had to clench her fingers to stop from touching him. Julie’s words about using him as a sex toy came back in a rush. There was no way Karen could do that. Not if she wanted to avoid a one-way ticket back to the emotional quagmire she’d pried herself out of when she left him. Every rational scrap of her soul told her to ignore the innuendo in his question, but she’d been fighting her desire for him since she’d woken up in his bed with a massive hangover. Which side would win?

  She resolutely picked up her fork and speared a mushroom, refusing to look at him, refusing to acknowledge that using him for sex was far too tempting an idea. Damn Julie and her instigating ways.

  “No answer, hmm?” His breath brushed over her neck and she shivered. “Did you know your nipples are hard, Karen?”

  Closing her eyes, she swallowed. Thank God they were speaking softly enough that no one would hear them over the raucous dinner party. “A slight chill, that’s all.”

  Sweet Baby Jesus, a chill? That was the best she had to fend him off? She was burning up, flames licking over her flesh. His scent filled her nostrils—hot, masculine and all Tate. He overwhelmed every sense, and another shiver ran through her.

  “Mmm, are you sure? I can also see your pulse pounding. Right here.” One fingertip stroked across the base of her throat. “Why is your heart racing, Karen?”

  As if she could answer that question. But Tate was a lawyer, and he hadn’t risen to the top of his profession by giving up at the first challenge. Nope, he was nothing if not persistent. She’d just forgotten what it felt like to be the focus of all his intensity. Intoxicating, addicting, thrilling.

  “I think…” He paused as if considering the situation. “I think you’re turned on right now. Do you have any idea what that does to me?”

  “What?” The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

  He gave no verbal reply, just took her hand and casually slipped it into his lap under the table. His breath hissed in when she shaped her palm and fingers around the thick ridge of his cock. Just because she could, because maybe a little torture was exactly what he deserved, she stroked him through his slacks for a few seconds. Impossibly, he grew harder, his shaft pulsing against her hand.

  “Karen.” An edge of pleading filled his deep voice, and she liked that. She liked it far more than she should.

  She pulled her arm away before anyone noticed what they were up to. “Eat your dinner, Patton.”

  A pained chuckle came from him, but he eased out of her personal space. “You’re a sadist, love.”

  Love. Her heart twinged at that moniker. She lifted her chin. “You seem to like it. Maybe I should have been meaner during our marriage.”

  Some unnamable emotion flashed through his gaze, but he just arched a challenging eyebrow. “Are you going to be mean to me later?”

  “Maybe. If I feel like it.” She pursed her lips and decided torturing him might be a lot more fun than she’d ever imagined. Something dark and naughty twisted inside her. “Eat your dinner. You might need to keep up your strength tonight. Then again, you might not.”

  A giddy sense of power flooded her, combining with the unfulfilled lust that sang through her body. She could have him if she wanted him, make him beg for her. Or not. It had been a very long time since she’d felt anything but inept, hopeless and defenseless. But this. This was how she wanted to feel. Sensual, powerful, womanly. She glanced at Tate from the corner of her eyes. He fidgeted—something he never did—and kept sneaking looks at her. Good, let him stew a little.

  And maybe some seasoning to add to that stew… “So how do you feel about being tied up?”

  His big body went rigid, his eyes sliding closed. “Yes, please.”

  Having him totally at her mercy—the thought was enough to give her hot flashes. She brushed invisible crumbs off her skirt. “Hmm. I’ll think about it.”

  “So will I,” he whispered.

  “Good.” She was going to do it. Take all the pleasure he had to give and then some. She was going to have a wildly irresponsible foreign affair with her ex. Maybe that was all it should have been when they’d met in college. She remembered how scared she’d been when she thought he wouldn’t want to continue their relationship after they returned to the US.

  A sigh slipped out of her, and she shook her head. No. She couldn’t regret the last decade. She’d loved him desperately, and even knowing how it would end, she couldn’t dismiss the happiness of her younger self. But she was older and wiser now, and she knew she didn’t want to dive back into a relationship with him. She just wanted to take advantage of what had never gone wrong for them—wildly explosive attraction.

  She’d never had frivolous, meaningless sex before, but it was sounding better and better by the second. Exactly what a foreign affair should be.

  They left the apartment together after dinner, and damn if Tate hadn’t had a semi the whole time they’d been there. Sure, he and Karen had tried the tied-up thing before, but Jesus, when was the last time she’d wanted him enough to be the aggressor? The sex had always been good, even when their relationship was at its worst, but he had a feeling tonight might make his head explode. If she decided to go through with it. The uncertainty, the teasing, just made his anticipation burn hotter. He was so desperate for her, he’d get down on his knees and beg if that would please her.

  And that might be exactly what she had in mind.

  His cock throbbed painfully, chafing against his fly. His gaze glued to her rounded ass as she preceded him down the stairs.

  They reached the ground level and she turned her head to glance back at him. Her smirk told him he’d been caught staring.

  “We need condoms.”

  Thank you, God. He swallowed. “I bought some. They’re back in my hotel room.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, really. You were counting on this, huh?”

  Cautiously, he replied, “I was hopeful and I am careful. When sober.”

  A single brow arched and then she spun for the door. “Well, then. We shouldn’t let them go to waste, should we? I hope you bought a lot.”

  Yeah, because that was going to make his dick settle down for the walk back to the hotel. “I can get more if it’s not enough.”

  “We’ll see.”

  He tried to ignore the discomfort of his erection as he strode beside her through the Trastevere rione, where the cobblestone streets were lined with parked cars. Old buildings rose four to five stories above them, painted in earthy tones of beige and cream and terra cotta, some covered in ivy. How many times had they walked this district together? Talking, laughing, discovering Rome and each other. He slid his hand into hers like it was the most natural thing in the world, and she didn’t pull away. He let his thumb swirl around the inside of her palm, where he knew she was most sensitive, reminding them both of what was to come. When he glanced at her, he saw her nipples clearly outlined by her top. He wanted to suck them.

  Holding the door to the hotel open, he waved her inside. She slipped in and made sure to let her breasts slide across his chest as she passed. Yeah, that was sweet. And a little mean. He liked the contrast. His cock stirred to life again, not that it had gone down entirely during their walk, but the bodily contact made what blood remained in his brain flow south.

  They bypassed the slow, tiny elevator and climbed the stairs. He got another view of her backside, only now it was right at his eye level. It was all he could do not to drool. His hands shook with the need to stroke over her soft, bared curves.

  When they reached their floor, he dug out his room keycard. The hallway was deserted, so their footsteps echoed unnaturally. Here it was. The moment of truth. Would she follow through on the teasing, or change her mind? Sobriety lent a much different perspective.

  She stopped by his door, and he quickly unlocked it and held it open for her. This time, she d
idn’t brush against him. She lifted one hand and boldly ran a fingertip around his nipple. He jerked, the air seizing in his lungs. Fire licked through his veins, and his dick went diamond hard in under three seconds. “Karen…”

  “How many neckties did you bring with you?” She pinched his nipple, twisting slowly.

  He swallowed, gripping the doorknob so tight it squeaked. “Four.”

  “Good.” She dropped her hand, grazing her knuckles across his fly as she stepped into his room.

  He sucked in a breath, shuddering with a lust so intense it almost drove him to his knees. It took him a moment to muster enough control to follow her in and close and lock the door behind him.

  “Hmm.” Karen set her hands on her hips and stared at the bed. “The knobs on the top of the headboard look sturdy enough, don’t you think?”

  They did. “Yes.”

  She nodded in satisfaction, and then started stripping while he watched. The sight of her creamy skin was breathtaking. Her curves had filled out in the twelve years since they’d met, and she was even more beautiful now than she had been then. Her dress fell away, leaving her in sapphire blue underwear. She was a goddess, skin like a moonbeam, hair like sunshine. Her breasts threatened to spill from her bra when she bent forward to slip off her panties.

  And then she was naked and Tate could have died a happy man.

  She gave him an amused glance. “Are you going to get me the ties and take your clothes off, or just stand there?”

  “I’m enjoying the view. Give me a moment.” He moved his gaze over her, pausing at all his favorite places. Her nipples peaked and her breathing hitched. A flush pinked her skin, and he loved seeing the evidence of her desire. It only whetted his own.

  “Nope, I don’t want to wait.” She placed a palm against the lower swell of her belly, gliding down into the pale curls at the juncture of her thighs. Her fingertips dipped in, her hips pressing toward the touch.