by Lucy Leroux
Gio tugged on the collar of his polo shirt. “Um, no. I do many different things. Whatever needs doing.”
He must be some sort of gopher, an errand runner. Still, it was something that he was open to working in a non-creative field.
“I think that’s great,” she said and held out her hand. “Well, should we head out?”
Gio hesitated. “Yes.”
He took her hand and she beamed, her unpleasant phone call forgotten.
Chapter 6
It had been the most amazing day. Gio had definitely stepped up his game. They saw all the landmarks left on her wish list, and spent hours getting lost in the Museum Capitolini. After dinner, her tour guide surprised her with an unexpected gift, a gorgeous dress she could wear to an exclusive club opening that night.
“Are you sure your cousin doesn’t mind me borrowing her dress?” she asked, fingering the material of the skirt.
It was a figure-hugging black silk number with a square-cut bodice and diaphanous Juliet sleeves. Except for the sleeves, the silhouette was similar to her favorite dress—the white vintage satin she brought for the Morgese Foundation dinner. Like the white one, it flattered her figure without making her feel exposed and uncomfortable. She loved it.
“Marina doesn’t mind at all. It doesn’t fit her anymore.”
Sophia glanced down at the dress. “Are you sure she even wore it? It looks brand new,” she said, running a hand over the front panel.
He shrugged. “My cousin has a lot of gowns. Too many. She’s always getting more and giving away the old ones. Actually, she mentioned that you could keep this one if you wanted…”
Ooh. That was tempting.
She wanted to keep it, but the dress was of such fine quality it had to be worth a lot of money. Several hundred euros, at least. The tag had a design on it, but no name brand she recognized. Regretfully, she shook her head.
“I couldn’t possibly accept it. It’s too much.”
“No, you should take it. The dress will probably end up in a pile for donation.” He ran his hot golden eyes up and down her figure. “Besides, I doubt it will look that good on anyone else. It’s like it was made for you.”
Biting her lip, Sophia stroked the material again.
“Well, as long as it doesn’t fit your cousin anymore,” she said, her voice reluctant, but secretly filled with covetous glee.
They arrived at the club, Il Gatto Mammone, shortly after.
She hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t this sleek and expensive looking space, complete with velvet ropes and a handsome bouncer in a black fitted suit. The interior was even more impressive. Booths in black leather with white accents surrounded a translucent floor with overlapping circles etched in it. Under each circle a different light shone, shifting from one color to another in an updated version of the dance floor in Saturday Night Fever.
The kaleidoscope of lights was captivating, the effect mesmerizing. The music had a slower beat than she associated with nightclubs, matching the pace of the shifting lights, but it was still a little loud.
“Who do you know here again?” she half-yelled, dazzled by the whole effect of the decor.
“Oh, my friend Calen has part interest in this place,” he replied, his mouth close to her ear in order to be heard.
“Really?”
Sophia shouldn’t have been surprised that Gio had a connection to such a hotspot, but she would have guessed it would be to one of the bartenders, not an owner.
There was also his appearance tonight. He was wearing an elegant pair of black pants and a tailored shirt. Did he borrow his outfit, too? Puzzled, she studied him out of the corner of her eye before remembering his second job. He probably used his salary as a bank teller to buy this ensemble. No doubt he had a few items like it in his wardrobe, clothes he could wear out on the town or to his moonlighting gig.
If bank tellers looked like him back home, I’d stop banking online.
Satisfied at solving that little mystery, she relaxed as he led her through the well-dressed shifting crowd. They sat at one of the booths on a raised dais overlooking the dance floor—one of the prime seats in the club.
A waitress in an extremely short skirt hustled up to them to take their order, her eyes locked on Gio like a love-struck schoolgirl.
Sophia was more amused than annoyed. It helped that her companion didn’t notice his admirer’s attention. Instead, he asked what she wanted to drink. In the mood to splurge, she ordered a Cosmopolitan while he ordered a Lagavulin whiskey. He continued to ignore the waitress’ flirtatious glances when she came back with their drinks; his attention remained fixed on Sophia.
Pleased that he only had eyes for her, she finished her drink quickly. She was feeling festive so she let him order her another one before they went to dance. Wanting to be unencumbered, she slipped her cell phone in his pocket during the first song.
Gio was a little stiff on the fast-moving numbers but moved with fluid grace on the slower ones. Euphoria heightened every sensation, and she forgot all her earlier aggravation with her ex as they danced in each other’s arms.
It had been a long time since she'd had so much fun. Richard hated going dancing, and he frowned on her going out with her girlfriends. Eventually, his passive-aggressive disapproval had led her to drop out of her regular girls’ night out. But tonight she was making up for lost time.
Gio couldn’t keep up on the dance floor, but he didn’t seem to mind her partnering with others so long as they didn’t get too handsy with her. Which was just fine with her. She didn’t want another man’s touch right now. Only Gio’s. And she soon learned, he liked to watch her move…
Buzzed from the alcohol, her inhibitions fell away. She forgot that she was too heavy to be sexy, and that Gio was nothing but a street performer. Here on this dance floor, she was whatever she wanted to be. Eventually, after finishing her last drink, she got rid of her erstwhile partners and danced for Gio alone. He watched from his perch, the crowd thinning around her as if he’d ordered them to part so he could have an unobstructed view.
Gio’s gaze was like a physical caress. There was enough light for her to see that he was smiling down at her, his lips parted. His lust-filled expression spurred her on, making her feel sensual and bold. The beat was keeping time with her pulse, and she danced like she hadn’t in years.
It was pretty late by the time she started to tire. Hot and damp with sweat, she went back to the booth where Gio was waiting, watching her with those intense gold eyes. But when she sat down and turned to him, she realized the expression in his eyes wasn’t amorous anymore. It was angry.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Her voice could barely be heard over the music, but Gio shook his head and handed back her phone. She glanced at the screen. Four missed calls from Richard. Perfect.
She rolled her eyes and accepted another Cosmo from the waitress. She had apparently been ordered to keep a steady stream of them coming. When Sophia turned back to Gio, he was glaring at her, his burning expression almost enough to singe the tips of her hair.
“What?” she mouthed.
“I thought you said you were broken up,” he shouted in her ear, making her wince.
There was no hint of a slur in his voice, but she could tell he’d drunk a few more whiskeys while she danced—she could smell it on his breath. Flushed from the dancing and alcohol herself, her temper flared.
“I am.”
“Then why is your ex calling you so much? And not just today, but this whole past week. He is the one you keep hanging up on right?”
“I told you he was,” she said, raising her voice when the next song’s bass started to drown out her words. “I also told you we have unfinished business.”
He gestured to his ear in annoyance, indicating he couldn’t hear her. She tried again, but it seemed like the music grew even louder. After a fruitless minute trying to gesture her aggravation, Gio snap
ped. He took her hand and tugged her to her feet, propelling them through the crowded dance floor.
Sophia teetered on her high heels, nearly tripping as Gio’s grip and quick pace threatened her balance. By the time he pulled her out of the side door into a cobblestone alleyway, she was spitting mad.
“What the hell, Gio!” she yelled, yanking her hand out of his.
He spun around and grabbed her head, pulling her close till she was only an inch away from his lips.
“He can’t have you back,” he hissed. “You’re mine.”
The declaration sent a heated pulse of pleasure throbbing down to her body as his mouth came down on hers. The kiss reverberated everywhere. It sang in her blood, more potent than the alcohol in her system. Forgetting about their argument, she pressed against him, aching for contact.
Gio was more than happy to oblige. Hot hard male flesh covered her, his heat seeping through their clothing. The warmth was a striking contrast to the cool night air. Instinctively cuddling closer, she was shocked into awareness when he pulled away.
Blinking dazedly, she watched him snap to attention at the sound of voices. A few men and one woman were turning the corner a little ahead of them. Looking back down into her eyes, he took her hand again and pulled them deeper into the shadows until they were in the dark of a dead end alleyway.
She spun to face him and was immediately engulfed by a pair of rock hard arms. Gio crushed her to his chest, the heat crackling between them. His hands were everywhere, rubbing and caressing her curves with possessive impatience.
It was as if a switch had been flipped inside her. One minute she was angry, and the next she was literally weak-kneed with desire. Clutching at Gio’s shoulders for support, she fought to stay upright as his mouth flamed up and down her neck with such skill she almost cried out.
She loved necking. It had always been her favorite bit of foreplay, one her ex had sadly overlooked despite her determined hints and suggestions. But Gio wasn’t some repressed Englishman. He was all fire and blood-red passion, instinctively knowing how she wanted to be touched.
Her complaints at being man-handled forgotten, she pulled at his clothes, tugging at his shirt until it came loose from his waistband. He groaned aloud when her hands touched the smooth hard flesh of his back—the muscles tensing and relaxing in a helpless response that told her he was as excited as she was.
He was like warm bronze, a carved masterpiece come to life to give her pleasure.
His breath hitched as she stroked up his back and down the sides of his chest. She felt powerful, heady, but she was unprepared for the sharp hunger that clawed up through her body when Gio grabbed her leg above the knee. He wrapped it around him, opening her more fully so he could grind against her.
Her silky briefs were little protection against the intimidating bulge that seemed to be trying to escape his trousers. Whimpering, she moved against him, matching his rhythm in an effort to stop the maddening ache between her legs.
The friction gave her some relief, but it wasn’t enough. Her need had never been this great, the craving so sharp it physically hurt. Heat pooled, her flesh swelling and growing wet. Blind to their surroundings, she arched against him, involuntarily scoring his back with her nails as the pulsing excitement climbed higher.
His hand at her thigh shifted up until he was grabbing a handful of her ass, clutching and kneading while pressing her closer. His other hand was busy under her skirt, tugging at her delicate panties until they tore, the crotch undone at one side.
Her whole body shuddered when his fingers parted the lips of her pussy. He teased and probed, pushing inside her at the same moment his palm ground against her clit, a trick that made her cry out.
“Shh, bella mia,” Gio panted, sounding almost as out of breath as she was.
He said something else in Italian, but she wasn’t listening anymore because his hand was gone and he was there, pushing inside her.
His mouth stifled her gasp as his thick cock parted her folds and worked its way inside her. For a second, there was pain. He was long and thick, so much that she wondered stupidly how he found pants that could contain him. She laughed aloud before he shut her up by plunging his tongue deeper into her mouth, that movement mimicking the one below.
Holy hell. It had been a long time for her, and neither of her former lovers even came close in rivaling him. But one thrust turned into three and soon she was pinned to the wall, his strength the only thing holding her up.
Lost in sensation, she couldn't hold back her moans as the driving pitch of his hips increased in tempo. His cock plundered, filling her tight channel before withdrawing and filling her again. Her body accepted all of him—but just barely and only because he made her so hot and wet. Otherwise, it might not have been possible.
Suddenly, she was coming, her body seizing and shuddering as she clamped down on the thickness inside her. The spasms rocked her body as she came, harder than she’d ever climaxed before. Her vision blackened and the hot tight tension drained away, leaving her sated and weak. She would have fallen if Gio’s body hadn’t been pressing her to the wall.
Docile in his arms, she barely registered his movement. He pulled out of her and turned her around, placing her hands against the wall for support before grabbing her hips. In one smooth thrust, he entered from behind, one hand moving to her breast to caress the full mound.
He took her hard, each of his lunges rocking her body into the wall. Struggling to brace herself, she moaned when his other hand left her hip and moved forward to stroke her clit.
“Again,” he whispered.
She choked, trying to breathe. “I can’t.”
There was no way she could orgasm a second time.
“Again.”
His voice was firm, inflexible. His fingers teased her clit, rubbing in a circular motion that made her bite her lip involuntarily. Tasting blood in her mouth, she arched backwards, trying to bring herself even closer.
Gio moved forward until his chest was flush with her back, his head against hers so he could kiss her hair. The hand that had been at her breast moved up over her mouth and she realized she’d been crying out, begging him to stop or not stop. She didn’t know which.
Having her mouth covered, her soft and curvy body held tight against Gio’s muscular chest, was more exciting than she could have ever imagined. A few more strokes of his deft finger and she was flying over the edge, the second orgasm stronger than the first because it was so unexpected.
Her eyes nearly rolled back into her head, and she shook violently in his arms. The ferocity of her climax triggered his. His thick staff swelled and spasmed, flooding her with hot seed.
Against her back, Gio trembled and swore in Italian, something unintelligible and harsh. One arm wrapped around her forehead—a shield from the wall as he collapsed, pushing her against the rough concrete.
His lungs worked like a bellows in the silence that followed.
They stood there for an eternity, trying to find the strength to stand and part their bodies. She was still resting her forehead against his arms when bits of awareness started to trickle back. A distant part of her brain was processing and cataloging each sensation; the warmth of the male body behind her and how sensitive her palms were from being abraded by the concrete.
He slipped out of her and, still slightly numb, she staggered upright. A cooling trickle ran down her leg. The realization they hadn’t used protection hit her when another seemed to occur to him. He turned her around, his face shocked and pale.
“We had sex in an alley.”
His voice sounded strangely hollow, almost stunned.
Dumbly, she opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He stood there staring at her so she nodded. It seemed to snap him out of his stupor. He took off the jacket of his suit and draped it over her shoulders.
Looking up at him, she caught sight of some movement in a window over his head and flinched. Someone in t
he second story of the building was watching them from behind a thin curtain.
She put both hands over her mouth, mortified. Gio glanced behind him. He must have seen the same shadow because put his arm around her to hustle her away. At the mouth of the alley, he stopped and whipped out a smartphone, a newer and more advanced model of the same phone she had. He hit the speed dial and spoke to someone in rapid Italian.
Absently fingering the soft lightweight wool of the suit jacket, Sophia was still in a daze when a shiny black town car pulled in front of them. Gio opened the door and helped her inside, speaking to the driver.
“Do they have Uber in Italy?” she asked drowsily, noting the fineness of the car’s leather interior.
The driver was probably using his personal car to make money like they did in the States.
“Um, there are services like it,” he answered evasively.
“Are you taking me back to the hotel?” she murmured, leaning on his shoulder.
“You’re taking me back to your hotel,” he corrected, putting a finger under her chin so she would meet his eyes.
He smiled at her. “The story of our first time as lovers does not end in an alley. It starts there.”
Chapter 7
An unfamiliar warmth at his side woke Gio up. Bemused, he lifted his lids slowly. The sight that met his eyes sent a charge of adrenaline through him, waking him more effectively than ten shots of espresso.
Sophia was lying next to him, her glorious caramel curves barely covered by a rumpled white cotton sheet. One arm was thrown on the bed over her head, her fingers curled against the mattress. The heavy lashes of her eyes rested on her flushed cheeks.
With her hair mussed and that color in her cheeks, she looked like they’d just finished making love. He glanced at his watch. It had only been a few hours since the fourth, and final, round.
Gio laid his head back on the pillow and grinned. Last night had been the most passionate and carnal experience of his life.
Images filtered through his head. He’d wasted no time trying to fulfill every fantasy he’d had of Sophia since the foundation dinner. However, she became shy once they were back in her room. He’d had to start over. Not that he minded. Seducing her slowly was exactly what he’d wanted from the start—he needed to savor her after the quick, but mind-blowing, encounter outside the club.
