Fling in Paris (12 page)

Sherry straightened. This sounded important. “What is it?”

“I am going on vacation to Italy to visit my family for the weekend, and I find myself without a travelling companion.” He paused, then smiled at her. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind coming with me.”

To Italy? The excitement was already bubbling up inside her before the rest of the sentence caught up with her—he was going to visit his family.

“I… I don’t know about that. Meeting your family is a pretty big step.”

Roberto squeezed her hand. “Bella, it’s really not going to be a big deal. We’re just going to have some fun on the beach. I’m sure that after all the hard work you’ve done you deserve a vacation. Please. Come with me.”

She knew it wasn’t a good idea, but the way he was looking at her, his eyes so round and sincere in that gorgeous face, made it hard to resist. God, she was such a sucker for Italians. And it didn’t help that she really did want to visit Italy.

“Alright. I’ll go.”

“Beautiful!” He kissed her soundly on the lips, sending warmth shooting through her entire body. “We’ll be flying out Friday night, so be sure you’re ready, bella.”

Sherry couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face. “I will.”

They both stood, and Roberto opened the door to let her out. Sherry saw a tall redhead standing at Monique’s desk, hands propped on her slender hips as she argued with the secretary, and felt Roberto stiffen behind her.

“I don’t care what you think I do or don’t need to know, just tell me who she is or I’ll—” the woman paused and turned to face Sherry. A very unpleasant smile slowly stretched her lips. “So this is your new side dish, Roberto,” she sneered at him, though her eyes remained on Sherry. “I didn’t think that your tastes were so… common.”

Sherry felt a flush creeping up her cheeks—who did this bitch think she was? “At least I don’t dress like I just came back from the red-light district,” Sherry remarked coolly, her eyes traveling slowly down the woman’s outfit—red, thigh-high leather boots and a skimpy black dress made of the same material.

“How dare you!” The woman gasped, taking a step forward. She looked as though she’d like to hit Sherry, but obviously thought better of it because she stopped and tossed her head. “I’ll have you know that I’m one of the top models in France.”

Sherry raised her brows. “I’m sure that every prostitute in Paris comes out to watch your runway shows, then. You have really bad taste in women,” she told Roberto, shooting an arch look over her shoulder at him. “I’ll definitely be giving that dress back to you before Friday.”

She turned and leaned up to plant a big wet one on Roberto’s lips for the woman’s benefit, and was rewarded with a look of murderous rage from her. “I’ll see you on Friday,” she purred at him before sauntering past the redhead and headed back to her office.

A feminine shriek of rage echoed behind her, and Sherry smiled. Maybe she and Roberto weren’t exclusive, but damn it felt good to give that bitch a piece of her mind.

Chapter 10

They ended up leaving Friday morning rather than evening, catching an 11:30 A.M. flight to Milan. Roberto claimed that it was to avoid potential jetlag so that they could make the most of their time in Italy, but Sherry suspected that he’d decided he couldn’t wait any longer—he’d practically danced into her office on Thursday when he came to tell her the news.

The flight in itself was uneventful, although much more comfortable than the one she’d taken to France since they’d flown first class. They’d sipped wine, played with the television channels, and chatted about casual topics. Roberto remained the perfect gentleman the entire time, keeping physical contact to chaste kisses and touches; though it was obvious from the gleam in his eye and the bulge in his pants—discreetly kept out of the passengers’ eye—that if they hadn’t been on the plane he would’ve liked to do more. Sherry wasn’t immune to his physical reaction either, but she managed to refrain from plastering him to the cabin wall and rubbing her body against his.

Even so, she enjoyed the time spent—there was something to be said for sexual tension, after all, and it was nice to be able to have a conversation with him that wasn’t interrupted by their constant need for sex. This was, she reflected, the first time they’d managed to be in close proximity with each other, relatively alone, without jumping one another’s bones. It was a novel experience.

They arrived in Milan at a quarter till two that afternoon, and after grabbing their bags and stopping by the car rental agency they were on the road to Tuscany.

“Are we going to go straight there?” Sherry asked.

Roberto blinked. “Was there some place in mind you wanted to stop at? It’s a three hour drive to Tuscany, so we cannot spend too much time. My family is expecting us for dinner.”

Sherry shrugged. “We just spent several hours sitting on the plane—plus I’ve never been to Italy before. I would be nice to see some places on the way.”

Despite the time constraint, he was more than willing to indulge her. They stopped in Parma where they indulged in a light lunch of bread and soup, then stretched their legs for a bit as they explored the Duomo di Parma, a beautiful twelfth-century Roman cathedral that, according to Roberto, was well-known for its collection of Renaissance art. She’d gotten out her camera to snap a few photos—this was an opportunity not to be missed, and she especially had to capture the fresco painted on the ceiling—and Roberto had ended up dragging her, half-laughing, back to the car. Later they stopped in Modena so that she could visit its Duomo, and by the time she was done Sherry had a new-found awe and respect for cathedrals.

“I’ve never really been much of a church-goer,” she admitted to Roberto once they were back on the road again, “but if I lived in Italy, I would go everyday just to be able to sit in the cathedrals. They are works of art.”

Roberto smiled and squeezed her hand. “I would agree with you, but I don’t exactly have holy thoughts when I’m around you.” He stroked the sensitive area between her thumb and forefinger, and his lust for her intensified as she shivered. She’d been alive and vibrant in the cathedrals, flitting from painting to sculpture and back again, the color high in her cheeks and her eyes sparkling, and all he could think about was pressing her down into one of the pews so he could have his wicked way with her.

Sherry took his hand in both of hers and brought it to her lips, nibbling gently on his knuckles. “Neither do I.” She took his forefinger into her mouth, gently nibbling and sucking.

Roberto groaned, fighting to keep his hand from jerking at the wheel. “Bella, you’re killing me.”

Smiling, she scraped her teeth against the inside of his wrist. “Oh, is this distracting?”

Cursing, he pulled over to the shoulder of the highway, stopped the car and yanked off his seatbelt.

“You’ll pay for that,” he rumbled, leaning over and capturing Sherry’s lips in a hot, demanding kiss. His hands cupped her face, holding her still so that he could ravage her mouth, and she moaned, her body melting against him. Her hands slid up to grip him tightly by the shoulders, and he pressed her further into her seat, trying to get closer.

“Touch me,” she groaned, tearing her lips away from his. She ripped one of his hands away from her face and guided it beneath her dress, between the opening of her thighs. His questing fingers pushed aside the flimsy material of the thong she wore, then delved into the wet, slick folds that waited for him.

“Oooh,” Sherry moaned, her hips jerking involuntarily. “Yeah, baby, that’s it.” Her back arched, breasts straining against the top of her dress, and he yanked the material away so that he could feast on her chocolaty nipples as he finger fucked her.

“God that’s good!” she pumped her hips faster as he worked his fingers inside her pussy, stretching and filling her, satisfying and yet causing her to ache even more. “Oh, Roberto!”

Roberto watched those lovely hazel eyes go blind as her hot, sweet juices flowed all over his fingers in orgasm. He pulled them out so he could lick them clean, then replaced them with his tongue to catch the rest of it, not wanting a single drop to go to waste.

“Now it’s my turn.”

Before her eyes had a chance to fully clear, he pushed his seat back, unzipped his pants, and pulled her astride him. He hissed as his cock sank into her hot, wet pussy, his head flopping back against the seat so he could gaze up at her. She looked like a wanton, with her hair spilling around her shoulders in disarray, her dress rucked up past her hips and pushed down to her waist, baring all her juicy curves to him.

She rode him hard and fast, without mercy, giving him no opportunity to do anything but take the waves of pleasure she was giving him. Soon enough he was shouting her name and jetting his hot seed into her. Had anything ever felt so good? he thought dimly as his mind floated. Would anything ever feel better than the sensation of sliding his cock inside this woman?

“Well, that was… different.” Sherry was the first to speak. “I don’t think I’ve ever had sex in a rental car before.” She’d never had sex in the car period, but she didn’t want to appear naïve in front of Roberto so she didn’t say that. A truck passed them on the road, and she hastily yanked her dress back into position. “Do you think anyone saw us?”

Roberto laughed at the look of utter mortification on her face. “I’m not sure, bella,” he admitted, sitting up. “But we should probably be on our way before we get a ticket for ‘indecent exposure’.”

He laughed again as Sherry scrambled off his lap. “It’s not funny,” she muttered, shooting a fulminating glare at him from underneath her brows while buckling herself in. He only laughed harder, and so she gave up, leaning back into her seat and staring out the window.

They drove the rest of the way to Tuscany in silence, Roberto grinning ear-to-ear.

****

“Ciao, Roberto!” a cheerful, rotund woman came bustling out of the large manor house as they got out of the car, her face wreathed in smiles. She was at least two heads shorter than Roberto, but somehow she managed to reach his face to kiss him, leaving bright-red lipstick marks on both cheeks. “Mi bambino! Come stai?”

“Bene, mama, bene,” Roberto returned her kisses and greeting, a great smile on his face—he might very well be a playboy, Sherry thought, but he very obviously loved his mother. It warmed her heart to see that, even as she felt a pang in her chest at the reminder that her own mother was gone.

As Roberto was pulling away, several men and women burst out of the house and rushed over, shrieking in Italian as they converged upon Roberto. He disappeared for a few moments as he laughed, returning kisses and backslaps, and Sherry stood by, feeling slightly awkward. She didn’t want to intrude on the moment, but she was feeling a little awkward, even left out.

Finally, Roberto managed to separate himself and return to Sherry’s side. “Everyone,” he grinned at her. “This is Sherry, the woman I told you all about. Sherry, meet my family.”

He stepped back, and Sherry got the distinct feeling he was leaving her to the wolves—which intensified as they all came forward to greet her with the same enthusiasm. Roberto’s mother was the first, and she threw her arms around Sherry, planting lipstick marks on both her cheeks as well. Following close behind was Carmine, Roberto’s father, who pinched her cheeks and told her how beautiful she was—she couldn’t get over the father-son resemblance, and imagined that in twenty years, if Roberto didn’t dye his hair and decided to grow a mustache, he’d look exactly like this. Next were Sal and Vinnie, Roberto’s gorgeous younger twin brothers, who shared the same green eyes but sported short brown hair instead of black. They both grinned and ignored her offer of a handshake, instead sweeping her up and twirling her around so that she laughed.

“Roberto, you devil!” Sal yelled as he put her down. “We never thought you’d bring one home!”

“There’s a reason for that,” Roberto called back, laughing. “Until recently if I’d brought a woman back home with me you two would have tried to charm her away from me!”

“That’s true,” Vinnie agreed. “If we hadn’t both found wives by now, you would be in big trouble!”

The three siblings moved off, laughing and talking. Their wives were more polite, but no less friendly—Veronica, a slim, sultry brunette, was married to Sal, and Arianna, a sweet, somewhat shy blonde, was Vinnie’s wife. Sherry felt instantly at ease around them, and allowed the two women to lead her into the stone and stucco manor house to show her around.

It was a gorgeous place, with soaring ceilings and marble pillars. The furnishings were all warm, earthy tones; welcoming, but still managing to convey that aura of old wealth she’d felt stepping inside Roberto’s house in France. The great room, where family and friends gathered to socialize and have fun, featured stuffed sofas and chairs, a hearth large enough to stand in, and a renaissance-style mural of Heaven painted on the coffered ceiling.

A bell rang, signifying that dinner was ready. Veronica and Arianna led her to the dining room. A long table, covered with a white linen cloth and fully set, dominated the room. The men were already seated, and Luciana was bustling in from the outdoor kitchen, a large pan of lasagna in her hands.

“Sherry,” Roberto called, smiling as he spotted her in the entrance. “Come sit with me.” He patted the empty cushion of the high-backed chair next to him, and waited while she walked around the table and sat. “Are you doing alright, bellisima?” he leaned down to murmur in her ear.