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“Are you crazy? We’re supposed to return these costumes,” she managed to say, part aroused, part baffled.
He gave a bark of laughter. “I’ll pay them anything. Anything to get you naked and in my arms quicker.”
His confession sent a ripple of excitement through her. Ripples? They were freaking tsunamis. He turned her around, and she pushed down the corset. Oh, what a relief to be able to breathe again. The look of hunger in his eyes hinted she’d be out of breath again soon.
Her breasts bounced free, her taut nipples confirming her desire for him. He peeked at her chest for a moment, and pure male arousal flickered through his eyes. His response provoked an incendiary effect on her. She flung herself to him, knowing that the reasons they were together didn’t matter. Yes, they faked an engagement. Yes, he would move to New York City, and she would go back to her life—which would turn a tad gray without him and Cara. But she would worry about that heartache later.
He pushed her to the bed, and she propped herself up with her elbows. Losing even a moment of his stripping wasn’t an option. Without trying to make a show of it, Lorenzo kicked off his shoes, shed his shirt, and pulled down his pants, tossing them to the side, followed by his underwear.
“You undress in supersonic speed,” she observed. “I barely had time to enjoy the show.”
He frowned, then covered her on the bed. “Trust me, there’s still a lot more for you to enjoy.”
She fisted his cock. “No kidding.”
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He threw his head back, eyes shut. She savored the smile spreading across her face. The man was sucking in his breath. Feminine power seared through her, and she ran her fingers along his length in a torturous pace.
He disengaged from her enough so he was still on the bed, towering over her, but their limbs didn’t touch. His scrutinizing slid from her face, down her breasts, and to her sex. She shifted on the bed, restless, wondering why he could take his time to assess her, and she hadn’t had that privilege with him.
,” he said in Italian, his voice dropping an octave.
She pushed him away with her hand. “Hey. Did you just call me stupid?”
He chuckled. “No. Stupendous.”
Wow. She had been called cute. Pretty. Sexy, even. But stupendous? Never. “Say it again.”
He grabbed her hands and raised them over her head, pinning her against the softness of the mattress. She arched toward him, a shot of shameless arousal spilling in her stomach. Her sex clenched, and she knew her clit was ready to play. “
.” This time, the word rolled off his tongue, and he nipped her shoulder.
How could she not believe him? It was like he was making up in bed for all the times he had been such an impersonal, aloof, careless asshole. There was nothing distant or impersonal about the way he spread her legs apart, his fingers teasing her thighs, making invisible patterns. Each time, he got closer to where she ached for him. Oh, goodness.
He plundered her mouth, and she met his urgency with moxie of her own—kissing him back, stroking his tongue with hers, linking her arms around his neck. At last, he put a finger inside her.
“God.” He growled against her lips.
His finger explored her slick folds, rubbing them, driving her insane with want. She arched into him, and he added another finger while flicking her hypersensitive clit with his thumb. The way he was working her pierced nub, each time matching it with a hot demanding kiss to her lips, was mind blowing.
She gave in to her body’s demands in spasms that multiplied and gained speed and force like the angry tides in the tempestuous sea. Moans fled from her mouth. He drove into her so hard, it probably would have hurt had she not been amazingly wet. Ready for him. Aroused beyond belief.
With every powerful thrust, she scratched her nails on his shoulder and threw her head against the pillow. Pleasure rocketed inside her, with the pressure of his glistening body over hers. The sound of their heavy breathing blended with that of the solid wood bed frame slamming against the wall.
He called her name, and she allowed herself to melt into that fuzzy sensation threatening to take her to a land of no return.
re we close?” he asked.
For the past twenty minutes, she summoned him to keep a tie over his closed eyes, and he had to rely on her directions to walk. They had barely rested after lovemaking when she had jumped from the bed and told him to put on some clothes. Whatever she had to show him was in no way better than going for a second round. Perhaps because she caught him disarmed, he had agreed and slipped on a pair of beige linen trousers and a polo shirt. Was she pushing him too hard? Nah.
The buzz from the party, still going but definitely quieter than before, shifted into a faraway sound.
“Careful. We’ll go down a flight of stairs.” She nudged his elbow.
“Enough. I need to know—”
She shushed him. The nerve. When was the last time anyone shushed him?
The sound of wood screeching under his feet hinted these were the stairs leading to the beach. Taking a deep breath, he recognized the scent of the ocean. By the time his shoes sank into the sand, there was no denying it. They were at the beach.
However, she continued and led him so far away that he no longer heard any party noise. “Are you going to finally tell me why you brought me here?”
“Take the tie off.”
With a quick movement, he removed it, and blinked at the sight. She stood in front of him, completely naked. His body seared, his cock swelling in his pants. The dress she wore before pooled at her feet.
A nervous smile ruffled her lips, and she twisted her hands together. Was she nervous? That was nothing like the Alice he knew. The Alice he…liked.
Public displays of affection weren’t his thing, let alone having sex in public. But that principle went out the window as he pulled down his pants and boxers.
“We aren’t having sex.” She waved him off.
“Why did you bring me here then?”
She chuckled. “We’re skinny-dipping.”
He shook his head. “Seriously?”
“This is a private beach. All Viola’s guests are at the party. I wanna show you what the fuss is all about.”
. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the sand next to his pants and boxers. Slipping from his shoes, he walked to her. It didn’t take long to pull her to him. Her bare flesh against his, the sweet notes of her perfume swirling into his nostrils…that was perfection. Why did he have to wait to consummate the attraction that was already consuming him? With that in mind, he plundered her mouth and found agreement in her tongue circling against his. Her full breasts hardened against him, and most of his blood pounded hot in his growing length.
He snaked his hand down her back, pulling her closer. She moaned in response.
When he rubbed his palms on her buttocks, unable to suppress a groan of his own, she plastered her hands on his chest and pushed him away. “What?”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Not now. Come on.” She opened her eyes, which shined like melted gold.
“Fine,” he said under his breath, and although some cold water would be welcome, when he dipped his feet into the ocean, a nice warmth surrounded him.
“Nice, huh?” she asked.
“I guess. What I had in mind was far nicer.”
She splashed him. “Now, now. Don’t be a joy killer.”
That’s how she saw him, wasn’t it? A stuffed-up bastard. Lorenzo retaliated and splashed her back. She was able to dodge getting her face wet, but the giggle escaping from her lips made it worth it. How long had it been since he found pleasure in such small things?
“Doesn’t your mom live in Italy?” She yanked him from his reverie.
“She’s in England most of the time these days. Found someone,” he said, remembering his mother had visited him in Austin a couple times since Alice had started working for him.
“Good for her. Have you met him?”
“Once. He’s nice,” he said, remembering the gray-haired gentleman he met during a business trip. He bit back a smile. “I’m glad she’s happy.”
She played with the water, making small circles of waves around her. “You never mention your father.”
“Well, what’s the story?”
Sighing, he stared at Viola’s mansion for a moment. If he shared that piece of his life with Alice, how bad could it be? It’s not like she would connect the dots.
“My father wasn’t the marrying kind. Or the fathering kind. He wasn’t mean or abusive, just had the nature of an eighteen-year-old college kid. Carefree and wild.”
“Wasn’t he around much?”
“My mom decided to leave him. I can’t blame her. Because of her strict upbringing, she put up with a lot, but after a while she couldn’t take it anymore.”
“Did you see him afterward?”
“He came to visit me when he remembered. After she left him, he went to live in a different town for more work opportunities,” he said, unwilling to list all the kinds of menial jobs his father accepted and got fired from with the same easiness.
“Is there any part of him you miss?”
“He was fun to be around. When he was sober,” he said, and allowed happy memories to flash through his mind. His father picking him up and hugging him tight. Sometimes Bernardo held him so tightly it was like he didn’t want to let go of his son. A smile sneaked onto his lips before he realized it.
Alice submerged in the water, all the way down to her shoulders. “Maybe he had his reasons why he wasn’t there for you. That’s what I have to remind myself about my sister. She’s not a present mom sometimes; there’s only so much she can give.”
He cocked his head to the side. Wouldn’t it be easy to just assume his father was a functioning alcoholic? Maybe. Still. He could have fought for his family, for his kids. Lorenzo had wrestled his own desires and stayed married to Kristin, for Cara’s sake. “How is your niece in all of this? Brenda, right?”
Alice lifted her shoulders. “She’s a tough little girl. Loves my mom. Maybe even more than my sister. But my mom gets overwhelmed, too. She works too many shifts to keep up with the bills.”
“You have a lot of responsibilities. It’s not fair. You should be thinking about you a bit more. Be a girl about town.”
She splashed him. “You mean a girl about New York City?”
“Can’t blame me for trying.”
“It’s okay. I get to bitch about it once in a while, but I can’t complain much. I have a good life,” she said.
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He tipped up her chin. “You’re a good woman, Alice.”
An adorable shade of red spread across her cheeks. Really, she was blushing now? Not when she took off her clothes, or had him skinny-dip? He licked his lips, the anticipation to kiss her expanding in his chest.
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She arched against him, and he tensed. “A good woman who knows how to be bad.”
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“Bad Alice is the best one,” he said, before dipping down to kiss her senseless.