Changing Scenes (Changing Teams #2) (9 page)

But I wanted to spend the weekend with Donnie, see what his life was like, what he did when he wasn’t being a chef. I wanted to know the real him.

“Why should I go someplace boring?” I teased. “I like to have fun.”

“I’ll show you fun.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“What should I bring?”

“That a yes?”

“It’s a maybe.” I got up and grabbed a suitcase, then I dragged it into my bedroom. “Really, what should I pack?”

“You could stay naked,” Donnie suggested as he slid his hands around my waist and kissed my neck. “Then I could really make things up to you.”

“Thought you didn’t like me naked.”

“Babe, I love you naked,” he replied. “I just want to keep you all to myself.”

I twisted around in his arms. “Are you going to be okay with this? With me modeling?”

“I’m working on it.”

Points for honesty. I kissed his chin, then I wiggled out of his arms and opened my closet. “So, should I pack for outdoor or indoor activities?”

Chapter Sixteen

Astrid

Astrid: Going to Donnie’s for the weekend.

Britt: Whoa whoa whoa!

Britt: I thought he was a jerk?

Astrid: He apologized :)

Britt: :)

***

It took about an hour and a half to get to Donnie’s place in Connecticut; two hours if you counted the time we spent messing around at my place, teasing each other about whether or not I should pack pajamas. When we pulled into the driveway, I saw a cute little brick condo with an attached carport.

“This is your place?” I asked.

“This is my place,” he replied. It was nice, with a well-kept yard and a cute little walkway. There was even a flowerpot on the front steps.

“Have you lived here for a long time?” I asked.

“Couple years,” he replied. “I got the chef position at Thirty-Nine and Twelve when I was twenty-four. After a year or so, I got this place so I’d be closer to work.”

Donnie unlocked the front door and led me into a living room covered in tans and beiges; the décor practically screamed bachelor. The furniture looked almost new, and the room was very clean, almost sterile. “Your place is nice,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said. “Kitchen’s this way.”

I followed him to the kitchen, which was as different from the front room as night and day. Where the living room was sterile and cold, the kitchen truly reflected Donnie’s personality. The walls were covered in kitschy prints, and there was a wooden cabinet piled high with cookbooks and loose papers, and a brightly painted rooster figurine was perched on the counter. There were pots and pans everywhere, shiny copper ones hanging from the ceiling and some cast iron ones on the stove that had seen a fair bit of use.

“You really are a cook,” I said. “When you’re not at the restaurant you spend all your time in here, don’t you?”

“Gotta test out recipes somewhere,” he said. “Besides, I know what I like.” Donnie squeezed my hand, then he opened a cabinet over the fridge. “Red or white?”

“Red or white what?”

“Wine, you goose,” he replied. “Which would you prefer?”

“Your choice. And, goose?”

“Honk.” Donnie kissed my temple, then he grabbed a bottle of red and a corkscrew. Once the wine was open, he filled two glasses and offered me one. “You hungry?”

“I’m good. Want to toast?”

God, if he kept grinning like that I’d never leave. “To what? Your choice, since I picked the wine.”

I thought a moment, then I raised my glass. “To weekends we’re not working.”

Donnie clinked his glass with mine. “To weekends.” We drank, then he set his glass down. “I’m gonna change. Be right back.”

Before I could make a snarktastic comment he was gone. I took the opportunity to really scrutinize his kitchen; based on the high end appliances and granite countertops, this place was worth ten of my apartments, maybe twenty. It seemed that head chefs made some serious bank.

Donnie was back before I snooped too much, a sound strategy on his part. He’d changed into gray sweats and a black shirt emblazoned with some band logo I didn’t recognize, and he was barefoot. His toes were cute.

“You showered too?” I asked, noticing his wet hair.

“Yeah, the vodka made my junk sticky. C’mon, sit,” he said, pulling out a chair for me. He had one of those tall pub tables, and a set of high chairs to match. “Tell me a story.”

“A story about what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe about the most beautiful girl in New York, and how she fell in with a cook and didn’t know how to politely get rid of him.”

“Hey.” I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “It’s not like that.”

He squeezed back. “Then tell me what it’s like.”

I sighed. “You know how you brought me to the fish market to see the real you? I wanted you to go to the show so you could see the real me. I’m a model, and sometimes my job calls for me to be partially or even completely nude. That’s me, Donnie, and it’s not going to change.” When he was silent too long, I added, “Hey, that doesn’t mean I want you to change.”

“Really? You don’t think I’m lame, for saying…what I said?”

“Think I’d be in your house if I did?” I countered. Donnie smiled tightly, then he refilled our glasses.

“That girl, Melody?” he asked. I nodded, and he continued, “She said you’d been telling everyone about a Donato.”

“Oh. Um.” I drank some wine. “Maybe.”

“Why did you call me Donato to your friends? Why not Donnie?”

“I like your name,” I replied. “It sounds elegant. Does it matter?”

“Yeah, because I’m the least elegant guy you’ll ever meet.”

“I disagree.” I tightened my fingers against Donnie’s. “You’re a gentleman. No, more than that. You’re chivalrous. You’re so good to me, opening doors and bringing me coffee, and you were positively scandalized over my show. Guys really aren’t like you anymore. You’re my knight in shining armor.”

Donnie snorted. “I ain’t got no armor, babe.”

“Well, then, you’re my knight in a green Jeep.”

He kissed my hand again, further proof of his knightliness. “I guess I can do that.” I smiled, but it quickly became a yawn. “Come on, babe, let’s go to bed,” Donnie said, then he stood and put our glasses in the sink.

“Um, okay. Where do you want me to sleep?”

“With me,” he said, as if it was obvious. “You want me to stay on the couch instead?”

“I just thought, since you changed and showered and all, we wouldn’t be sleeping together.”

One of Donnie’s arms snaked around my waist, his other hand stroking my neck. “Honestly, babe, after all the driving I’m beat,” he said. “Not to mention, my balls went from blue, to drenched in cold booze, to roasted under a hand dryer in under an hour.” I laughed and hid my face against his chest. “I think they’ve had enough excitement for today. Not gonna try anything with you, I promise.”

“I didn’t think that,” I said. “When you told me you were old fashioned, I thought you were into bundling or something.”

His brows lowered. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s when two unmarrieds share a bed, but don’t do anything but sleep,” I explained. “The Amish do it.”

“You got nothing to worry about then,” he said, tugging me toward the stairs. “No Amish in Portugal.”

We climbed the stairs and Donnie led me down the dark hall to his bedroom. He didn’t bother flipping on the light, and soon enough I bumped into the bed. I got under the blankets and felt the mattress dip under Donnie’s weight.

“I really gave you blue balls?” I asked.

“You have no idea.”

Since it was dark, I decided to be daring and slid on top Donnie. Despite his earlier protests, his cock seemed up for adventure. “Do I get a good night kiss?”

Donnie leaned up and kissed me, then he rolled me until he was on top, keeping his cock pressed against me. “Thanks for coming here with me.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

I moved to the side and laid my head on Donnie’s chest, his arm tight around my shoulder. Even though it was my first night in his bed, I knew that I never, ever wanted to leave.

Chapter Seventeen

Astrid

I woke up when a rude shaft of sunlight decided to glare directly into my eyes. I yawned and stretched, or make that tried to stretch. Donnie was wound around me, his chest against my back with one of his hands on my hip and the other under my shirt, palm flat against my belly. Since resistance was futile, I rolled over and faced him. In doing so, both of his hands ended up on my butt; he could thank me for that later.

I looked at his sleeping face, his dark brows, and the tiny lines framing the corners of his eyes. I wondered if he looked like his father, or either of his brothers; I wondered why his older brother had stayed in Portugal. Wouldn’t he be lonely with an entire ocean between him and his family?

It occurred to me that I also didn’t know how old Donnie was, what his middle name was, if he had any pets…well, I hadn’t seen any small animals running around or bowls of food on the floor, so I guess I knew the answer to that last one. Still, I was in bed with a man I knew nearly nothing about.

Then again, I knew more about Donnie than most of the guys I’d dated before, more than most of the people who showed up at my parties. I knew he was kind, and funny, and he treated me as if I was cherished. Maybe I didn’t need to know any more.

I slipped my hand underneath Donnie’s shirt and felt his chest hair. I liked chest hair. I stroked upward until I felt his heart beating, and then I tucked my head under his chin. Lying with him was nice. Warm. Comfortable.

“Feeling me up?”

I looked up and saw Donnie smiling at me. “I thought you were sleeping. And you were feeling me up first,” I added, wiggling my hips.

“So I was,” he said, squeezing my butt. He dragged one hand up my back until he cupped the back of my head, and kissed me with slow, sweet, morning kisses. “Morning, baby.”

“Morning,” I said, between kisses.

“What do you want for breakfast?” he asked when we parted.

“Where are we going?”

“Going?” He looked at me like I’d suggested we eat drywall. “I’ll cook.”

“That’s right, I get a personal chef today.” I tugged at his chest hair, then I glided my fingertips down to his navel. “What do you have?”

“Lots of stuff.” He dipped his head and kissed a path from my ear to my collarbone. “If I don’t have what you want I’ll go out for it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He kissed the hollow of my throat as his hand moved from my back to over my ribs, stroking the underside of my breast. “So, what do you want?”

I slid my hand down over his butt and squeezed. “I think I’m getting it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” My hand moved from his butt to the back of his thigh. “You’re in pretty good shape for someone who eats for a living.”

“Oh, you think I eat for a living? Maybe I’ll nibble on you.” He nipped at my collarbone, his cock hard against my thigh. I brought my hands up his sides and pushed his shirt up and over his head, then I kissed his chest. Donnie sighed, so I used his distraction to my advantage and rolled until he was under me.

“I like being on top,” I said.

“Do you.” Donnie cupped my breasts under my shirt, taking their weight. “What else do you like?”

I pulled off my shirt and tossed it aside, then I reached beneath his waistband and grabbed his cock. It was hot and smooth, so wide at the base I could hardly get my hand around it. “I like you.”

Donnie rolled and I was under him again, and he kissed and licked his way to my breasts. I moaned when he took one in his mouth, cried out when he bit down on my nipple. Then his mouth went lower, and I let go of his cock when he reached my navel. He kept moving lower, and pushed down my yoga pants until he could kiss my bare pubic mound.

“This okay?” he asked, his hot, damp breath making every hair on my body stand on end.

“It’s fucking awesome,” I replied. He pushed my pants down to my thighs, then he kissed my lips, his tongue flicking over my clit. My hips bucked up against him, practically smacking him in the forehead. Donnie laughed against my skin, the vibrations doing even more amazing things to me.

Donnie kissed his way up to my navel, and said, “Be right back, babe.”

He got off the bed and stripped out of his sweats, and I was treated to the sight of his bare ass as he went into the bathroom. He reappeared less than a minute later, rolling a condom onto his cock. I kicked off my yoga pants and tossed them aside, and raised myself up on an elbow.

“Astrid,” he murmured as he climbed back onto the bed, kneeling between my legs. “You’re the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. You’re smart, and beautiful, and your tits are amazing.” I laughed, but Donnie’s face told me he was dead serious. “Let me make love to you.”

I shivered. Did people really say “making love” anymore? Didn’t people say they were fucking, or having sex? I gazed into Donnie’s eyes, warm brown pools that I wanted to lose myself in, and knew he was right. He wanted to love me.

“I’ll be making love to you too.”

The words just tumbled from my mouth, my heart revealing things my brain wanted to keep under lock and key. Donnie didn’t call me on it; instead he gathered me against him, kissing my neck and shoulders as he settled himself between my thighs. I felt him position his cock against me, pushing forward and stretching me to the limit, pleasure with an edge of pain. When he was sheathed in me to the hilt, he pressed his forehead to mine and kissed me.

“God, you’re amazing.”