The Marriage Clause

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The Marriage Clause Page 5

by Alexx Andria


  At that I really did laugh. “Was this during your European pub crawl after high school?”

  “The very same. How’d you know? You were pretty young then.”

  “I always knew what was going on. My circumstances weren’t exactly normal.”

  He conceded my point with a silent nod, but before either of us could say much more, our food arrived and we both let it go, choosing dinner over uncomfortable topics.

  And I was grateful. I didn’t want to have a deep, soulful conversation with Luca about anything, much less my unorthodox childhood, thanks to his family, and he’d seemed on the verge of saying something distressingly nice or even apologetic.

  I couldn’t risk buying into anything he had to say, even if a part of me craved it more than I wanted to admit.

  I’d long since stopped wondering how things might’ve been different if Luca had apologized in the slightest for breaking my heart... I wondered if I would’ve granted my forgiveness. I knew the answer—of course I would’ve. I’d been helplessly in love with the jackass. I was pretty sure stars had twinkled in my eyes like a cartoon character whenever he’d been around.

  Hard to imagine being that way with anyone now—nor did I want to. I liked who I was, and I had no interest in returning to that caricature I’d been before.

  Food was a great buffer, and by the time we were finished eating in silence, not needing to speak as we shoveled burgers into our mouths, I’d lost some of my prickles.

  I felt more secure about making it through the week without succumbing to Luca’s charm. I just needed to keep at the forefront of my mind the reasons not to marry him. Good sex did not a relationship make. I mean, it was important, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t want to raise my kids the way the Donato boys were raised.

  For one, Giovanni was an old-school misogynist, and even though Luca wasn’t that way, his brother Dante certainly leaned that direction. I didn’t want my kids around that kind of influence and keeping any Donato grandchildren away from the family would be near to impossible.

  “Thank you for the dinner company,” Luca said, patting his belly in the most comically unrefined way. “That burger hit the spot. Can I tell you a secret?”

  My smile faded into quizzical curiosity. “I guess.”

  “I’m not into fancy food. Never have been. Most times I’d rather just have a burger, fries and a milk shake, but it seems I’m in the minority.”

  “No, you’re not. I hate fancy food,” I admitted. “You remember that time your mom had the chef prepare duck in blood sauce? I thought Dante was going to throw up all over your mother’s fine china.”

  “God, yes. Who knows what possessed Mother to have the cook serve that disgusting dish. Thankfully, she never did it again.”

  As much as I wanted to forget everything I’d experienced with the Donato family, there had been good times. My family was small, just me and my father after my mom died, and our home had always felt quiet. The Donato family home wasn’t exactly cozy, but it felt fuller than mine. Nico and I had perpetrated some world-class pranks, but after getting caught one too many times, we’d realized we had to stop if we wanted to get into any worthwhile university. He was a good friend, but I was prepared to walk away from all of them.

  The breath hitched in my chest when I realized the magnitude of what I was doing—walking away from everything I’d ever known—but I couldn’t let myself travel too far down that road.

  I had to do this.

  But there was no sense in ruining a decent dinner, right?

  We shared some light and totally safe memories, laughed a little, and by the time we walked back to the hostel, I was actually smiling.

  Until we entered our room and my gaze fell unerringly on that tiny bed.

  Could Luca actually lie beside me without making a move?

  Would I be able to sleep with him smashed up against me?

  I guessed there was only one way to find out.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Luca

  KATHERINE PUT UP a good front, but the minute we crossed the threshold of our room, I could sense the tension in her shoulders. I wanted to knead the bunched muscles between my fingertips, hear her moan as I released the knots. But I knew if I touched her, all the progress I’d made at dinner would go down the toilet.

  So I ignored her and went about my normal evening routine.

  I settled on the bed with my phone to check emails, disregarding her completely. I pulled my shirt over my head and shucked my trousers. Katherine’s sharp inhale made me turn in question.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, gesturing to my near nakedness. “You can’t sleep like that.”

  “No, I can’t sleep fully clothed,” I corrected her.

  “I mean, you can’t sleep with me like that,” she said, her cheeks blaring with heat, even as her gaze kept dipping to the way my boxer briefs hugged my ass and cupped my cock.

  “When did you turn into such a prude?” I asked. “I remember you being a lot less...particular.”

  “I’m not a prude,” she protested. “I just don’t want to feel your man parts bumping into me all night, that’s all, but whatever. As long as you can keep your hands to yourself...I can handle it.”

  “No problem on my end,” I lied, giving a convincingly real yawn even though I was wide-awake. Indeed, keeping my “man parts” from nudging her might be a challenge. My cock was already threatening to plump like a Ball Park hot dog on the grill at the thought of being next to Katherine all night. “I hope you don’t snore.”

  “I don’t snore.”

  “I’ll let you know in the morning if that’s true or not.”

  “The bed is smaller than I realized,” she admitted, biting her lip. “You take up more than half of it.”

  “What can I say? I’m a big guy,” I said without apology, sliding beneath the blankets. “Not much I can do about that.”

  “I know, I was just saying...it’s a little small.”

  Yes, a California king would’ve been preferable, but I looked forward to a night with Katherine doing her best not to let our bodies touch. I suspect she would be so miserable by morning that she’d agree to leave this dump almost immediately, which worked for me.

  “Close your eyes,” she demanded as I plugged in my phone to charge for the night. Katherine stood, clutching her nightgown to her chest like a Victorian lady.

  “Seriously?”

  “As a heart attack.”

  I sighed and deliberately shut my eyes. She killed the light before changing. The mattress gave under the weight of Katherine’s body as she slid into the bed, drawing the covers to her nose. “Is it safe now?” I asked in an amused drawl.

  “Yes,” she answered, her voice slightly muffled. “But don’t you dare try anything tonight.”

  I grunted my acquiescence and rolled onto my side. I smothered a laugh at Katherine’s rigid body next to mine. At this rate she’d wake up cranky and with a stiff neck. Hell, I would, too, if the springs piercing through this thin mattress were anything to go on.

  But all in all, this was working out far better than I’d imagined.

  Except for the raging boner now threatening to split my Jockeys in two.

  I stifled a groan as I rolled away from her, my dick digging into the bed. If I could survive this night...everything would fall into place.

  Hell, at this rate, I might not even need a whole week to have Katherine eating out of my hand—and sucking my cock.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Katherine

  A SIGH ESCAPED me as the morning sun caressed my forehead. The comforting weight of a big body behind me, an arm wrapped around my waist drawing me close and a slow, even breath on the nape of my neck drugged me into a contented lethargy.

  Something familiar yet foreign pressed against the cleft of my behind,
and I instinctively wiggled, pushing against it.

  A groan followed as the arm around me tightened. I wasn’t awake yet, but I was slowly becoming aware. The tingle in my belly intensified as I arched against the sweet sensation of that rock-hard length pushing against me, insistent, eager. It’d been so long since I’d felt this wild need, this all-encompassing hunger to have him inside me.

  It was too early to fight the need; my brain wasn’t in control just yet. There’d always been something about Luca that had drawn me, even before I was old enough to realize how my future had been sold to the Donato family.

  Before that awareness, Luca had simply been that enigmatic older boy with the devilish smile and the blue-eyed stare that made me want things I had no idea how to verbalize.

  Don’t wake up.

  If I opened my eyes, I’d have to acknowledge how much I missed his touch, how easily I could roll to my back and open my legs for him. The feel of Luca filling me, stretching me like the first time—the memory taunted me. If Luca’s fingers sought out my folds, he would find them damp and ready.

  Pretending that none of this was real was better than admitting that I missed him, that a part of me still yearned for the taste of him on my tongue, still fantasized about all the things he used to do to me, how he’d introduced me to the tantalizing world of sexual pleasure.

  No. Sex was sex. Orgasms were a dime a dozen if you knew what you were doing. Luca didn’t have some special hold on me.

  At least that was what I told myself every day, and I’d keep telling myself that until it became true, because I wasn’t going to marry him.

  My eyes snapped open and I tried to scoot away, but his arm remained locked around my waist.

  “Luca,” I said, trying to inch out of his sleepy grasp. “Luca...” But if anything, he seemed determined to keep me close. I gasped as he nuzzled the back of my neck, sending an army of dancing soldiers traipsing down my exposed skin. My nipples pearled to aching points, and I think my ovaries popped like a bottle of champagne. His tongue teased the smooth skin where my shoulder met my neck and I shivered, my eyes fluttering shut as my toes curled. His hand crept down my belly, seeking between my legs. Was he still asleep? It was possible. Luca was a deep sleeper. Or he could be wide-awake and playing that he was asleep so he didn’t have to take responsibility for mauling me. If only I wasn’t dripping for more... Suddenly, he moved, expertly rolling on top, his solid weight pressing me into the mattress. My legs automatically opened, leaving my core exposed and accessible.

  Damn it.

  “Good morning,” he said, dipping to taste my lips before I could offer a word. His cock fit perfectly against me, the only protection between us the thin fabric of our underwear. He rubbed against me and swallowed my moan. The wanton, sex-starved lunatic hiding in my brain screamed, Fuck me, Luca! but I was doing my damnedest to shut that crazy bitch up.

  Luca was the most masterful kisser I’d ever locked lips with, and that hadn’t changed. If anything, he’d gotten better. He teased, nibbled, penetrated and commanded, leaving me breathless, all the while driving his cock against my sensitive mons, grinding until I was practically writhing beneath him, nearly ready to beg him to just stick it in already.

  Where was my sense of control? No one touched me like Luca. Maybe I could delude myself into believing that the sex hadn’t been as good as I remembered, but with his tongue in my mouth, my legs trembling with need, it was impossible to cling to that flat-out lie.

  The thing was, I might not want to marry him, but maybe a romp for old times’ sake wouldn’t be a terrible idea.

  I wanted him to bend me over the bed and sink into me, stretching my softness with the thick length of his cock. He could reduce me to a quivering ball of flesh with the talent of that tongue, and he knew it.

  “I still remember the way you taste,” he murmured against my lips, allowing only the slightest breath before plunging his tongue back into my mouth, evoking memories of how he’d done exactly that to my insides.

  A groan escaped as he traveled to my neck, nibbling and kissing, sucking and licking, and I wanted to push his head between my thighs. I wanted to lose myself in the power of an orgasm only Luca could give.

  Seriously, he was like a sex ninja, with skills that were damn near mythic.

  For a brief moment, I was content to simply lose myself in the pleasure of being touched by Luca. My entire body yearned to feel his fingers and lips on my skin.

  “Kiss me, Luca,” I murmured, expecting him to slide down my belly to sink between my thighs, but instead he returned to my lips, plunging his tongue in, demanding and coaxing an equal response from me.

  My nipples tightened to tiny, hard points of aching need as they rubbed against his chest, abraded by the thin fabric of my T-shirt.

  His cock, rock solid and urgently pressed against my slit, teased me with the promise of pleasure. I wrapped my legs around him, desperately seeking that delicious friction against my clit. I was so aroused that I could’ve come from a single stroke of his tongue or even a few judicious flicks of his finger against the swollen nub nestled between my folds.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed release or I would go insane.

  But just as I was about to lose my dignity and beg, he rolled off and climbed from the bed to dress, leaving me panting, confused and disappointed.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, struggling to catch my breath.

  “Getting dressed,” he answered, plainly obvious. “I thought we could check out this place called Mama’s. Maybe get some banana pancakes if the wait isn’t more than forty-five minutes. Supposed to be the best in the city.”

  “You want breakfast?”

  “Yeah, I’m starved.”

  Two seconds ago his tongue had been buried in my mouth and now he was all about banana pancakes? What game was he playing? I should be grateful, not insulted, right? I’d told Luca I wasn’t going to have sex with him. If I were an idiot, I’d assume he was being a gentleman by adhering to my wishes, but I knew Luca wasn’t born with a chivalrous bone in his body.

  So he was playing me. He wanted to pretend that he wasn’t into me to prove a point.

  Fine by me.

  “Pancakes sound fab,” I agreed, smiling with false brightness as I scooped up my clothes from last night. I would change in the bathroom. “Give me a second and I’ll be ready.”

  He nodded and pulled his trousers on. Luca wearing the same clothes from yesterday seemed like a sign of the coming apocalypse. He hadn’t packed anything because he knew he could just toss down his credit card and buy whatever he needed, but still, seeing him so carefree was throwing me off-kilter.

  I escaped the room, disappearing into the communal bathroom once it was free.

  The smell of the previous occupant was enough to make me gag, but I was determined to put a good face on things. I couldn’t give Luca the satisfaction of knowing that I kind of hated the hostel. It was definitely more appealing on a website or in a story than in reality. For one, my back was killing me from sharing that crappy mattress. I rolled my shoulders, trying to loosen up. I wanted a long, hot shower...in a private bathroom. One glance at the shower stall that had seen better days told me that’d have to wait.

  God, I hadn’t considered myself a snob until this moment—and the realization wasn’t very flattering.

  Still, there was no way I was admitting any of this to Luca. For all he knew, I was digging this lifestyle and I wanted to get dreads and a butterfly tattoo on my lower back.

  And what the hell? Kissing and nibbling on me like that? That clearly violated our predetermined rules.

  But seeing as we’d both been half-asleep, I guessed I could give him a pass—once.

  I closed my eyes and swallowed the sigh that threatened to follow. The man had a magic touch.

  Would I ever be able to forget how his fingert
ips felt grazing my skin? Not likely, if he kept doing it.

  Just get through this week. After that, I can move on.

  Dressed and ready, I met Luca outside, the bite in the air nippy enough to make me shiver. I probably couldn’t have picked a more terrible time to visit San Francisco, but I hadn’t been thinking—other than to get as far away from New York as possible. The dreary clouds hovering overhead were anything but cheery. Or warm. Right about now, Luca’s offer of Fiji would be highly appealing—if not for my pride.

  So, I’d just have to make the best of San Francisco.

  “Mama’s is only a few blocks. I thought we could walk,” he suggested with a cheerful smile. He didn’t wait for my approval, just set out with a healthy stride, leaving me behind. I hustled to catch up just as he started talking. “Man, it’s been a while since I’ve visited the Bay Area for pleasure. In January it always reminds me of London with its damp and chilly weather. Just smell that bracing sea air!” He drew a lungful for emphasis. “Pretty refreshing. You’re right, this was much better than some overrated pristine tropical beach.”

  I clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering. I’d always considered myself in decent shape, but my calves were burning along with my lungs, yet I was still freezing. “You can stop with the act, Luca,” I gasped. “I’m onto you. This sucks and you know it.”

  But no, he was going to ride this out to the bitter end, I realized, when he insisted, “Not at all. This is one hundred percent me. I love the rain and the damp air. Makes me feel alive.”

  My gaze narrowed. I couldn’t actually tell if he was lying. He seemed to genuinely enjoy our four-mile walk uphill. Who was this guy? He had me so turned around I didn’t know which end was up right now.

  Luca the uptight businessman had left the building, and in his place was...chill-dude Luca.

  This had to be a game. Luca was trying to keep me tottering from one foot to the other. I hated to admit it was working. Not to mention, keeping up this pace was grueling. All I could do was huff and puff and chase after him. I had no more oxygen to argue.

 

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