Racing the Sun

by Karina Halle

  “Are you all right?” he murmurs into my neck, sucking my soft skin. “I can take this slow.”

  I wrap my legs around him tighter and press my nails into the small of his back. “Please don’t.”

  He groans and looks at me through heavy lids. “You feel beautiful.” He places a slow, teasing kiss on my lips. “You are beautiful. Bellissima.”

  We stare at each other for a moment in a long, lust-induced haze and he slowly pulls back. I can feel every inch of him as he slides out and I’m almost bereft at the absence. Then he pushes back in to the hilt and I gasp, stretching around him, feeling him so damn deep.

  In and out. In and out. So wet, so slow. Maddening.

  He’s looking at me now like a wild animal, his mouth parted almost in a sneer and his eyes, so dark and desirous, reach right into me. He begins to thrust in and out, harder, faster, as he holds me on the desk and I clutch him to me, keeping him as deep inside as possible. Sweat forms on his brow and drips between my breasts and everything about the moment, about us, about the air, is too damn hot. I’ve never felt so wanted, so thoroughly fucked before. Every time he sinks in farther it awakens another part of me.

  I want to come so badly, my body is straining, begging for release, but my G-spot isn’t being hit at this angle. I slip my hand to my clit but he immediately pushes my fingers aside and places his own there. The pressure is so firm, so all-encompassing of my swollen flesh, that my body jerks into him further.

  “My job,” he growls. “I’m the one who makes you come.”

  He’s fucking hired.

  It only takes one thick swipe of his fingers just as he thrusts into me to the hilt to send me over the edge. The tension unleashes like a dam and I go from wound-up as all fuck to flowing freely, lost in a million colors. My limbs spasm and my fingers dig into his back and the round thickness of his ass and I’m holding on while letting go and succumbing to a feeling of freedom I’ve never experienced before. It’s just me and it’s just him and he’s coming now, too, with ragged breath and a pained cry. I stare up at him, wanting to see that peace on his face. He closes his eyes tightly, his features contorted as he pours into me. Then he relaxes, catching his breath, and when he opens his eyes and gazes at me, I see total softness in him, like looking into a deep, cool pool, an oasis of calm.

  I can’t help smiling lazily at him as I brush back a strand of thick hair from his forehead. “So, was that your way of convincing me to keep the job?”

  He grins, biting his lip, and then kisses me softly. “Yes. Did it work?”

  I nod, my heart still going a mile a minute against my ribs. “We can make this part of the benefits.”

  “Health benefits,” he murmurs, nuzzling his lips into my neck. He groans. “Your taste is so sweet. Dolce. Just as I thought.” He licks a path up to under my ear and bites me there. He hasn’t even pulled out yet but it feels like he’s growing hard again. I guess all the stereotypes of Italian lovers are true. I can definitely work with that.

  Meow.

  What the hell? We both look over to see Nero, that damn black cat, slinking along a bookshelf.

  “Basta!” Derio mutters and then slowly pulls out of me. It’s only then that I’m aware of how exposed we are, even in Derio’s office. The twins could have seen us easily from the patio; after all, Nero got in through the open French doors. That would traumatize them for life, even though Alfonso did wish for me to be Derio’s girlfriend.

  While Derio pulls up his shorts and runs over to the cat, waving his arms, I tuck my breasts back into my top and hop off the desk. Everything throbs—in the best way possible. I’ll be sore tomorrow, I can tell already, but it will totally be worth it.

  Derio manages to get Nero out of the office and locks the door behind the disgruntled cat. He turns to me, looking rather shy. “I hope that was okay.”

  I raise my brows. “The sex?”

  He nods, walking over to me. He tucks a piece of hair behind my ears and gives me a timid smile. “Yes. The sex. And the job. I understand if you don’t want to be their nanny. I just thought maybe if you gave it time, it would grow on you.”

  My resolve liquefies. “It has grown on me,” I tell him honestly. “Really. But it’s just a lot of work. I can’t do it all by myself. I’m sure—no, I know—that Felisa was a superwoman, but she had a lifetime of experience. I only have a few weeks’.”

  He lowers his chin. “I understand. I will go through the résumés and start calling a few candidates in for interviews.”

  “No,” I tell him, reaching for his hand. “You don’t have to do that. I just need help—your help.” I pause, my eyes flitting to the manuscript on the desk. He follows my gaze, worry coloring his face. “Don’t worry,” I implore him. “I don’t know what you’re doing in here all day long, and as long as it’s important to you, I don’t care either. But if you can just find some moments to help me, to help Alfonso and Annabella, to step up and be their brother, then I can do this. We can do this. But I need your help. I can’t do it alone.”

  He licks his lips and then nods. “Okay. You are right.”

  “You’re not their father, Derio,” I tell him quietly. “You don’t need to live up to him, you don’t need that added pressure. You’re just their brother who has sworn to look out for them. You can still be their brother, and only their brother, despite everything. I know that’s something you know how to do. And I know you do it really well.”

  He blinks a few times and looks away from me. He nods once but doesn’t say anything else. I know part of his problem has been the insane amount of responsibility that comes with being a guardian to two young children. I know it gets even more complicated when you’re used to a different role with them. I imagine when the twins were born, Derio was long out of the house and in the middle of a budding career. He probably never saw them as much as he would have liked. It wouldn’t have been the same kind of relationship had he been raised in the house with them, had they been closer in age. He probably never really knew them until his whole world changed and they were thrust into his care.

  “You will stay, then,” he says, glancing warily at me, “if I promise to be better?”

  I give him a gentle smile and place my hand on his cheek. “I will stay if we do this together.”

  He nods and leans in, his lips just inches from mine. “I am so lucky to have found you. You are worth your weight in gold. You are gold.” He runs his fingers through my hair. “Sono ricco. You know what that means?”

  I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. It sounds beautiful.”

  “It means ‘I am rich,’ ” he says. “Because of you.”

  My heart is swooning a little, like it’s about to faint. I’m drowning in his sweet talk.

  “And,” he says, kissing along my jaw, “this is not just a fling.” He pulls away and peers at me intently. “I am not that kind of man. You make me richer; you matter to me. I want us to be together.”

  “Even though I’m the nanny?”

  His lips twitch. “Maybe especially because you are. You don’t find that a bit sexy?”

  I don’t want to admit that I do. “I find you sexy,” I tell him.

  “Is that so?”

  “Well, I just fucked you on the desk.”

  He grins. “I was fucking you.”

  “Oh, I forgot, that’s your job.”

  “Yes,” he says, kissing me sweetly. “You do your job and I will do mine.”

  “It sounds like everyone wins.”

  “Everyone does.”

  “Except the kids who are probably dying of boredom out there.”

  He nods. “Yes. Well, what shall we do with them?”

  We? Maybe he’s changing already.

  I tell him about my idea of taking them to Marina Grande.

  “Sounds good,” he says. “It’s too hot now and the beach will be very crowded, but the water is cool. It will be worth it.”

  He grabs my hand and leads me to the door.


  I pull back, just a little, and raise our joined hands in the air. “What about this?” I ask. “I don’t know if the children are ready to see us . . . well, together. Even though Alfonso did ask me if I was in love with you.”

  This gets his attention. “Oh?” he says, his eyes wide. “And what did you say?”

  “I told him I thought you were gross. Ew, boys, yucky.”

  “Ah yes,” he says, seeming satisfied with that. “And probably true. Allora, let us take this slowly then.”

  “I don’t think we can take it much slower given what we just did on your desk. By the way, I think you might have to wipe that down.”

  He lets out a small laugh that lights up his whole face. He looks positively angelic. “Yes, yes.” He pulls me into him and kisses me, then lets go of my hand. “We will take it slowly in front of them. How about that?”

  “And take it fast in private?” I ask with a bat of my eyelashes.

  “And hard and long and rough.” He punctuates this by biting my neck and letting out a low, primal groan. “Bella, bella, bella.”

  I ignore the heat flaring between my legs again, obviously ready for another round. This situation might be harder to juggle than I thought.

  Still, sex with Derio has got to be worth any complication.

  At least, as we walk out into the hall, back to the way we were before, that’s what I have to tell myself.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Even though I had the best intentions when I told the twins that I—well, we—would take them to the beach, I regretted it the moment we stepped foot on the hot, smooth pebbles.

  Yes, walking from the villa all the way to the funicular and then waiting in line with throngs of tourists and then nearly getting hit by errant taxi cabs at Marina Grande and then trying to find a spot on a beach packed with bodies was annoying, albeit totally expected. But what I didn’t see coming was how hard it was to keep my hands off of Derio now, especially when he stripped down to that goddamn Speedo again.

  It wasn’t just my eyes that were constantly roving all over his body but the eyes of all the women on the beach. I felt proud, not threatened, that he had fucked me earlier on his desk and fucked me good, but it really didn’t help that I just wanted to run my hands all over his tight body. He was more naked now than he had been in the office.

  “You are good?” he asks me as he settles on his towel. We’re both lying on our sides, facing each other. The twins gathered a few water toys and are splashing in the clear shallows near a bunch of other kids. I hope that maybe they’ll hit it off and play together.

  “I’m good,” I tell him. “I can’t stop staring at you, though.”

  He gives me a cocky grin and looks down at his body. He places his hand on his bulge and momentarily rubs it. I immediately get a lady boner from the sight, wishing I were the one rubbing him.

  “That’s not fair,” I whisper.

  He does it again and closes his eyes briefly, his lips parted. Holy fucking shit, can he not touch himself in public? I’m going to fucking die.

  I look around me. So far no one is paying attention, as most people are succumbing to the heat and lying on the ground like limp noodles.

  But Derio, of course, is the opposite of limp. He now has a full-blown hard-on inside that Speedo and it’s barely being contained.

  “My God, what did I awaken in you?” I say, leaning in closer to him and almost shielding his body in case someone walks by close to us.

  “What did I awaken in you?” he asks and reaches over, slipping his fingers down the front of my bikini until they sink between my cleft. “You seem ready to go.” He edges closer to me, his finger sinking in deeper. “Bravissima,” he says through a ragged breath.

  With the sun searing my shoulders and my body drowsy with heat, his fingers feel impossibly good. I want nothing more than to close my eyes and give in to him. But at any moment, if anyone at all walked past us, they would see something entirely inappropriate. I know Italy is really relaxed and all—there are topless breasts on every beach—but I’m pretty sure public hand jobs are frowned upon.

  “Relax,” he hisses softly. “No one is coming. Except you.”

  I laugh then gasp as he comes even closer, his finger finding purchase deep inside. We’re close to each other now but he continues to stare at me, his head propped up on his hand while his other one goes to work.

  “Keep looking at me,” he says as my head wants to flop backward. “Pretend nothing is going on.” He leans in closer, his gaze on my lips. “I wish my tongue were my fingers. I wish I could taste you from the inside.”

  Oh God. Where did this man come from? What happened to the brooding, sulking, silent guy? Not that I’m complaining. At all. No, I might never complain again.

  I suck in my breath as he draws his fingers out and then starts rubbing my clit in small concentric circles. He’s barely moving at all but I’m feeling everything.

  “Look at me,” he whispers again and I’m forced to meet his eyes. They are glittering in the sunlight, burning with intensity. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on. I want to come but I also want to wrap my hands around that long dick of his and make him come, too.

  He must have followed my gaze because he suddenly applies firmer pressure and just like that it’s a trigger and I’m the bomb.

  The orgasm rocks through me, but he’s grabbing my face with his other hand. “Look at me,” he says and I’m forced to meet his eyes. The cry strangles in my throat and my mouth drops open as I ride the wave. It takes everything I have to keep my body as still and quiet as possible—my pulse feels like it’s trying to rip out of my skin, and my muscles cramp up to keep my limbs from jerking, but through it all I stare into his brown eyes, lost in the flecks of gold and black that make them rich and bright.

  “You are like the sunrise when you come,” he whispers to me when I begin to calm down. “All this light, chasing away the dark.” He slowly, deliberately removes his hand and then sticks his finger in his mouth, drawing it out leisurely. “Dolce.”

  I blink at him, taking in a deep breath, and slowly look over my shoulder. No one is staring at us. We weren’t caught. Derio looks down at his erection and then grins at me. “Unfortunately, this can’t be dealt with out here,” he says. He’s right about that. Even the water is crowded with people.

  “I’ll fix you up tonight,” I tell him, relaxing back against the stones as the endorphins flood my body. Holy hell. Did that really just happen? Especially after all the talk about taking it fast—in private. But his twin siblings are still playing by the shore, trying to do handstands in the water, and no one else saw him getting me off. It’s just that I’ve never been open and vulnerable with someone like that, especially in public, and so soon. It worries me just a little bit. I’ve been known to fall hard and fast for all the wrong guys and I don’t want to do that with Derio. And I don’t want him to be the wrong guy.

  He trails his fingers over my neck, my collarbone, my breastbone, soft and gentle, like I’m written in braille and he’s trying to read me. I glance up at him and my heart flips at the tenderness in his eyes. I should have known from the start that this man was going to give me a reason to stay.

  * * *

  The rest of the weekend flies by. After the beach, the four of us had dinner at one of the tourist joints at the Marina Grande. They’re not the best on the island but the twins were happy with their “Americanized” meals, even though I wasn’t too happy with them eating French fries, especially after the breakfast I had served them. I think Derio found it quite amusing when I went into “mom” mode, which I just found more scary than anything else.

  The next morning, I took the twins—and Derio, though he needed a lot of convincing—to church. I’m not a religious person, though I’m definitely spiritual, but I had heard there was a Sunday school after the sermon, with cookies, juice, toys, and, most importantly, other children Annabella and Alfonso could play with. Once Sunday school was ove
r, the priest told us we could drop them off again just before dinnertime for an activities program.

  Naturally, we had to say yes. Not just to give Alfonso and Annabella the chance to socialize with kids in a new setting, but for our own budding relationship as well.

  As we walk back to the villa after dropping off the kids, the Via Tragara now busier than ever, Derio asks, “Want to go on a ride with me?”

  “Sure,” I say with a smile. He grabs on to my hand, holding it firmly, and we pass through crowds of people. I feel extremely giddy being led by this man. I can’t help smiling at everyone, tourists and locals alike. I don’t feel the heat that’s steadily building, nor the loud chatter in a million different languages. Though Capri doesn’t feel like it belongs to us at the moment, I feel like I belong with him.

  Once back at the villa, we waste no time in bringing out the bike. We only have about three hours or so to ourselves so we have to make the most of it. What I really want is to drag Derio into the house and spend those precious hours in his bedroom—that would indeed be time spent wisely—but Derio is happier than I’ve ever seen him, all squinty eyes, handsome smiles, and tanned skin, and for once I find myself craving the freedom of the open road. The roads on Capri aren’t very open but I want his body pressed to mine and the wind in my hair and that wild feeling of nothing but time. Even if time is only a lie.

  I hop on the back of his bike, easier now that I’m comfortable hanging on to him like a monkey on a tree, and we jet off, trying to make our way down the street without running people over. It’s not easy, so I start yelling “Permesso!” at the top of my lungs, which eventually gets people out of the way.

  Once we’ve somehow made it through the maze of Capri town, I want to ask him where we are headed but it’s already pretty obvious. There’s not much else to see on this side of the island—everything else resides on the other side of hell’s highway.

  He pauses the bike near the main traffic circle, already crammed full of mini blue trucks and orange short buses and tourists wobbling on Vespas, and glances at me over his shoulder. “Are you okay if we go to Anacapri?”