When in Rome (A Heart of the City Romance Book 4)

by C.J Duggan

  ‘We are going into business together—well, trying to.’

  Damn. He had answered the question but it left more unanswered questions rolling around inside my head. I begrudgingly scooted forward, knowing that I had one more question to ask, at best.

  Make it count, Sammi.

  I looked at Marcello, straight in his eyes, because I wanted to see how they would change when I asked him my next question.

  ‘Last night, when you kissed me and then walked away, was it because you regretted it?’

  Something flashed in Marcello’s eyes alright: sheer disbelief. His eyes searched my face as if he expected me to tell him I was joking, but I was deadly serious. He didn’t answer; instead, he stared at me for a long moment and, before I could warn him that I wasn’t moving an inch until he answered, he grabbed the arms of my chair and dragged me towards him. The jolt was so unexpected that I yelped. My breathing rapidly increased at finding my mouth so near his as his intense, dark eyes bored into mine.

  He shook his head. ‘No, mi dispiace niente,’ he whispered against my mouth.

  I glowered at him, close to losing it as I warred between wanting to taste his lips and needing to remain in control.

  ‘I said, in English.’

  A wolfish smile spread across Marcello’s face. ‘No, I regret nothing,’ he said, leaning in and kissing me as if there was no tomorrow. And, for us, there wouldn’t be—there was only now.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  This was happening, this was really happening. Marcello helped me pull my dress up over my head as I straddled him on the bed. My hands made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pulling it apart and revealing his ridiculous landscape of muscle and curves, my hands sliding over to admire its beauty, more intriguing than any map I had ever followed. Marcello was just as interested in my dips and curves. He sat up and kissed my rib cage, while sliding his hand up to unhook my bra. He peeled one strap over my shoulder, exposing the pink bud on my milky, untanned breast, which he took into his mouth, circling his tongue and sucking, before shifting his attention to my other breast.

  My head fell back, breath escaping me as I stared, unseeing, at the ceiling, pushing into his mouth. Despite the heady sensations, the slight flicker of the fluorescent light bulb began to frustrate me; in my need for Marcello I hadn’t even worried about the light, but now I wanted to slide away my final barrier.

  ‘Wait a minute, I’m just going to turn off the light,’ I breathed against his mouth, edging away. Marcello looked disappointed but he didn’t stop me. As I moved to the door I took a moment to look at him, splayed out on my bed, and for a moment I was afraid to turn off the light, that somehow he might disappear. He lay against my pillows, watching me and working on unbuckling and unzipping his pants with a cocky grin. It was all the motivation I needed to flick the switch, blushing so fiercely I had to take a moment before I slowly made my way back to the bed.

  My knees hit the edge of the mattress and Marcello’s hand snaked out, pulling me towards him, encircling me with his strong arms and coaxing me to open my mouth to him. Like a magician’s sleight of hand, I hadn’t even noticed he was sliding down my panties until they were pooling at my feet. I breathed hard against his mouth, and smiled.

  I, Sammi Shorten, unworldly, boring, mousey traveller, am about to have a one-night stand in Italy, with a gorgeous man with a—OH, MY GOD—

  I could feel the hard length of him digging into my hip; skimming my hand down over him, I felt my heart stop. He wasn’t going to fit—there was just no way. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had had sex: eight, nine months ago? This was no way to ease back into the game. I tried to keep my voice from shaking.

  ‘Um, do you have … protection?’

  Would there be a condom big enough?

  Marcello kissed the corner of my mouth. ‘Of course.’

  Happy to hear we were on the same page, I rewarded him with a kiss, sliding my tongue inside while exploring the long, hard length of him in my hand, pumping and kissing him so hard I heard him groan against my lips, from pleasure or pain I couldn’t tell. It only made me move faster, loving the feel of him, almost wishing I had left the light on so I could see his face as I worked him into a frenzy. I revelled in the power of having Marcello, so confident in everything he did, at my mercy, and hearing him swear in his native tongue turned me on all the more. Just when I thought he couldn’t take any more, the power was reversed and Marcello moved my hand away, flipping me onto my back and pushing my legs apart; without missing a beat his head dipped between my thighs.

  ‘Holy shit!’ I slapped my hand over my mouth, muting the unearthly whimpers and swearing that I had no control over, as Marcello dug his fingers into my thighs and pushed his tongue deep inside me, tasting and teasing. Caught between heaven and hell, I rocked into him, cupping the back of his head and encouraging him, pleading with him not to stop—until it became too much. I couldn’t take any more and I was pushing him away, but he clamped my thighs open until I screamed so loud I was certain they would hear me on the eighth floor.

  My body limp, beaded with sweat and practically hyperventilating, I could hear the vibration of Marcello’s laughter against my thigh. I didn’t know if I loved or hated him in that moment, all I knew was that he was a genius. He crawled up my body, rolling to the side; he leant his head on his hand, catching his own breath.

  ‘You sure?’ he asked; it was a simple question, one that meant this was over if I wanted it to be. Fooling around with a sexy stranger on holiday was one thing, but letting him inside me, giving a piece of myself away, well, that wasn’t me. I don’t know if he guessed that, or if he was just doing the right thing, but I was glad he asked; as adamant as I had thought I was about wanting to go further, now I wasn’t so certain.

  ‘Don’t be mad …’

  Marcello’s hand, which had been sliding over my skin, stopped abruptly at my words. I couldn’t see his face and didn’t know what his eyes conveyed, but I knew how he felt the moment he moved his hand up to my face, touching me so gently and caressing the horrid bumps on my face. He breathed out a laugh and I could just make out the silhouette of his head shaking.

  ‘You are completely mad, but I could never be mad at you.’

  I smiled, melting against his hand and feeling the warmth and sincerity of his words. I cursed Pompeii, and Venice and every destination that had me leaving tomorrow, because I knew that if I had more time there would be no reservations, which was utterly insane. Oh, sure, Sammi, because a seven-night-stand would make this so much more meaningful. Idiot.

  Regardless, what we had was us, here, tonight. My body was still reeling from the aftermath of my orgasm, but if this night was truly going to be one to remember then it couldn’t possibly end like this.

  Marcello, being the gentleman, rolled onto his back, probably thinking of any number of turn-offs to get rid of his erection. I smiled and rolled over to kiss his shoulder, sliding my hand over his rib cage, then slowly down his six-pack and lower still. I could hear him swallow hard as I touched him.

  ‘Sammi.’ He said my name as a warning, strained.

  I moved over him, kissing his jaw, his neck, his chest, his nipple.

  Marcello ran his fingers through my hair. ‘Sammi, what are you doing?’ I didn’t answer, I simply trailed a determined line down, down. Marcello fisted his hands into my hair, his hips pushing forward as I took him into my mouth.

  ‘Cazzo dell’inferno!’ he gritted.

  Whatever that meant, I hoped it was a good thing.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I lay in the shadows, the sheets tucked under my arms, listening to the deep, rhythmic breaths of Marcello next to me. He had shown me many things these past few days, but tonight was something else entirely and, while I couldn’t wipe the goofy grin from my face, I kind of wanted to high-five myself. Girls like me didn’t do things like this, and they certainly didn’t do them with men who looked like that.

  I peered
to the side, seeing nothing more than a darkened lump in the bed, but I knew he was there, his right leg crossed over mine. I was wide awake, shifting and sighing really loudly, hoping that Marcello might stir, but nothing. I yawned loudly, then turned towards him heavily, making sure to squeak the springs on the bed. Nothing. I stared at where I thought his head might be on the pillow next to mine, considering giving him a little pinch and blaming it on a bed bug, but knowing there was no waking him from his deep sleep.

  I rolled back over, thinking it was probably just as well—there was no telling what would happen if he woke up. Best I just lie here and think pure thoughts. It lasted all of five seconds. ‘Oh, who am I kidding?’ I ripped the sheets off me, rummaging around the floor for my dress; it had been flung off so fast I had no clue of its whereabouts. My hands skimmed over a hairbrush, lip gloss, Marcello’s jacket, a chair leg and my handbag with its entire contents seemingly spilled everywhere. It was as if the room had been ransacked: the things you do in the heat of the moment.

  Aha!

  I pulled it over my head but it got stuck midway and I panicked, picturing the scene that could soon play out; Marcello waking up in the dim light to see my silhouette, arms trapped and starkers from the waist down, banging into the limited furniture of my room. Yep, real attractive. But even when I finally managed to pull the dress down my body there was still no movement. I crept to the bed, leaning over and placing my hand over his face until I felt the warmth of his breath against my palm. Excellent, my bedroom skills hadn’t killed him. Laughing at my overactive imagination, I backed away from the bed. I skimmed my bare feet along to the door, opening it slowly and peering out, wary not to be caught.

  Doing what, going to the bathroom?

  Besides, what was there to worry about? Everyone was safely tucked away on the eighth floor, so there was no one to see me here. I straightened my spine and made my way down the hall to the bathroom, only to twist the handle and find it locked.

  ‘Ugh, seriously?’

  ‘You might want to go to another bathroom, there’s no spray in here,’ the muffled voice yelled through the door.

  ‘Oh, that’s just gross,’ I said, recoiling from the doorway and heading for the stairs. I wanted to make myself look semi-respectable; the light of day might not pierce through any part of my windowless room, but Marcello was sure to wake up and turn on the light sooner or later, and when he did I wanted him to see me at my best. I would be lying there, hair soft and flowing on the pillow, with fresh breath and lips shimmering with berry gloss, pretending I always woke up like this.

  With my toiletries trapped in the bathroom of eternal stench, I had no choice. As much as I didn’t want to, I headed up to the eighth-floor bathroom. I didn’t need orange foundation, just a reasonable toilet, a smidge of someone’s toothpaste to rinse with, and a light misting of—I picked up the bottle and squinted—Britney Spears perfume? I would be back down and in my room in no time, nothing amiss. I was getting pretty good at sneaking around, I thought to myself, washing my hands and scrunching my hair. Marvelling at my post-orgasmic glow, I wondered if I would look different to the others, more worldly, more womanly. I certainly felt like I had an air of contentment about me, until I opened the bathroom door and was stopped dead in my tracks.

  ‘Oh, hey, Jodie.’

  She stood there half asleep, with hair all a mess and raccoon eyes from sleeping in her make-up. Seeing me, she straightened, her brows rising in surprise. Now was the time I would learn if dinner had all been an act or if she really had changed her tune.

  ‘Oh, hey, where have you been?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, I, um, I’m bunking on the second floor for tonight.’

  She looked confused. ‘Why?’

  ‘Oh, I just felt really crook today and thought I would need a solid night’s sleep, plus I didn’t want whatever I had to be contagious.’

  Jodie laughed. ‘You can’t catch a hangover.’

  Valid point.

  A silence fell between us; Jodie hadn’t sneered or glared at me, which I took as a positive sign that the water was well and truly flowing under the bridge now.

  ‘Did you end up emailing your sister?’ she asked casually, as if it was just an ordinary catch-up between siblings rather than a scathing indictment of my tour group.

  ‘Umm, no, not that one. I might send her one tomorrow before we go. My sister lives in Paris so I want her to come and see me in Venice before we head home.’

  ‘Oh, that sounds nice,’ she said, yawning, her concentration wavering.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, kind of enjoying just talking with this new Jodie.

  ‘Hey, Jodie, listen. I’m sorry about the email, I really didn’t mean the things I wrote, I was just …’

  ‘Eh, don’t sweat it, I’ve been called worse,’ she said, waving my words away.

  ‘Well, I appreciate you not saying anything to the others.’

  She burst out laughing, way too loud; I flinched, glancing down the hall, wondering if her cackle might wake the others.

  ‘Oh, Sammi, you didn’t honestly think I would destroy you, did you?’

  I laughed haltingly. ‘Of course not,’ I lied, looking into her intense green eyes.

  ‘Good, now toddle back down to the second floor and get some sleep.’

  Ha! If only she knew what awaited me in my bed.

  ‘’Night,’ I said, stepping around her and heading straight for the stairs.

  ‘Oh, Sammi?’

  I paused on the top step.

  ‘Have you set your alarm? Remember, you won’t have Nate’s farts to rouse you in the morning.’

  ‘Oh, crap, no, I haven’t.’

  My distraction, in the form of a certain Italian god incarnate, had meant an early morning wake-up call was the last thing on my mind.

  ‘Don’t sweat it, I’ll wake you—you know what Maria’s like. What room are you in?’

  ‘210.’

  ‘Got it—see you in the morning.’

  ‘Si!’ I said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. Jodie looked at me as if I were a complete dork, rolling her eyes and stepping into the bathroom.

  With that settled, all I had to do was make my way back to my man. I mentally slapped myself: Marcello wasn’t my anything. I just had to keep remembering that.

  I had planned to sneak back into my room and under the covers in my bed, secure in the knowledge that Marcello slept like the dead. So when I opened the door and the bedroom light shone in my eyes, and I was greeted by the sight of Marcello perched on the edge of my bed, dressed and tying his shoes, you can imagine my surprise.

  ‘Oh, hey,’ I said, folding and unfolding my arms, shifting to shut the door behind me, before busying myself with picking up the chair I had knocked over. Spotting my knickers on the floor among the debris of my spilled belongings, I scooped them up quick smart; God only knew where my bra was. Marcello rested his elbows on his knees, looking up at me; I was relieved to see he was smirking in that boyish way that he had, entertained by my complete awkwardness.

  I really hadn’t put too much thought into the aftermath of what we had done, to how different it could be between us; I had a flashback to how he had slid his fingers inside me, and the primal noises I’d been unable to contain as he wickedly took control of my body. Surely the woman who had done those things was another person, not the same creature blushing profusely in front of him. Had he planned to slink away in the night while he thought I was gone? Had I caught him mid-escape? I felt sick. I wasn’t under any grand illusion that he would give me a promise ring and swear to wait for me, but I didn’t think it would end like this. Perhaps I was a fool to think that there had been another kind of connection between us, that this had been more than just fooling around. I mean, he made me come three times—surely that was a sign of a connection?

  I tried to keep it casual, to act like my stomach wasn’t in knots, that I wasn’t overanalysing everything in that moment. What would Jodie do? How would she behave a
fter a hookup?

  I yawned, playing bored. ‘What time is it?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s late—you should get some sleep,’ he said, standing up, pushing his hands in his pockets and watching me with guarded interest.

  ‘True that!’ I agreed, stretching my arms like I was ready for bed.

  Marcello’s brows narrowed like he wasn’t quite sure what to say, or how to react to my careless attitude. It felt kind of good to protect myself. So he was going to leave without saying goodbye? He may as well leave now and shut the door after him.

  I padded past him, leaping onto the bed and sliding under the sheets. ‘Hey, can you turn the light out before you go? Thanks,’ I said sweetly, like I really wasn’t bothered one way or another.

  Marcello turned to me. ‘Are you feeling okay?’

  I shrugged. ‘Fine, why?’

  ‘You’re being weird.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’

  Yeah, I totally was.

  Marcello crossed his arms, looking at me pointedly.

  ‘Okay, well, in that case, I’m going to leave the light on, because I’m going to the bathroom and I thought that I probably should not do that naked.’

  My fake smile faded. ‘You mean you’re not leaving?’

  ‘Sorry, did you want me to?’ He half laughed the question.

  My instinct was to say no, to drag myself desperately up onto my haunches and beg that he stay. Instead my mouth gaped as I struggled to voice a single word, and the smile slipped from Marcello’s face.

  Say something, Sammi, anything.

  Marcello looked away and bent to scoop up his crumpled jacket from the floor, shoving it under his arm. This was not how I wanted to remember him; I wanted to see those dimples appear, for him to smile in that sexy, knowing way he did that made my breath catch. Instead I just stared at him, the silence agonising because I didn’t know what to say to end it.

  I didn’t know how to prepare for this. This was goodbye; it was as if we were simply committing each other to memory. Besides, what was the point of having him stay a few hours longer, knowing I was leaving in the morning.