Italian Stallions (22 page)

“Umm, the ones that do amazing things for your ass.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“I wish I could be there now. Damn, the things I would do to you…”

“Tell me,” she said, running her fingers idly along the lace trimmed edge of her bra, down the soft skin of her stomach. She closed her eyes, imagining how she felt to him.

“First I’d have to kiss you for awhile, because you know how much I love your mouth.”

She licked her lips, his taste imprinted on them from hours of his deep, hungry kisses.

“Then I’d slide your bra straps down your smooth shoulders until your breasts were bare so I could lick your nipples like they were covered in cream.”

A soft little whimper escaped her throat, and her hand trailed over her own breast to cover her nipple. It was as hard as though he’d sucked it, pressing insistently against her palm. The images he was evoking were so intense, so real, she could almost feel his hot skin sliding against hers as he came down over her. Which reminded her…“Are you naked yet?”

“For real? Or in this particular scenario?”

“Both,” she laughed. “The way I see it, if I’m hanging out half naked by myself, you should be too.”

“Fair enough.” She heard the faint rustle of clothing being dropped before he got back on the line. “Now where was I,” he said. “Right. I was sucking on your nipples, rubbing them with my tongue, sucking hard like I know you like.”

She shifted restlessly against the sheets and pinched her nipples, trying to recreate the sensations with her own hands.

“By now you’re so wet you’ve soaked your panties,” he said, and she could hear his breath hitch over the phone line.

Proof that he was as aroused as she sent a pulse of heat between her thighs. “And you’re hard, aren’t you? Rock hard and dying to get inside me.”

“Baby, you have no idea. But I’m going to wait a little while first, make sure you’re really ready.”

“I’m ready now,” she said.

“Yeah? Do me a favor. Slip your hand inside your panties and tell me how you feel. Are you as wet as I think you are?”

Blushing to the roots of her hair, Theresa did as he asked. “Wetter.” Her embarrassment melted into satisfaction at his deep groan.

“I want to go down on you so bad, lick up every drop of your sweet juice. Then I’d slide inside you, give it to you hard and deep.”

She moaned and slid her fingers down and around her clit.

“If I close my eyes I can almost feel your sweet, tight pussy around me.”

She slid her fingers inside herself, moaning at the penetration even though it was a pale imitation of what she really wanted. They slipped back up, dancing around the slippery bud of her clit. “I’m so close, Vince. Thinking about you inside me.”

He let out a shaky groan. “Jesus, Theresa. I wish I was there right now. Tell me when you’re coming, baby. I want to go with you.”

She could hear his breath increase, and her own came in sharp pants. “I’m so close,” her strokes grew firmer, faster as every sinew tensed. Her control snapped. “Now,” she breathed, moaning, sighing, wanting him to feel her pleasure even from thousands of miles away.

He cursed softly and groaned her name as he found his own release.

She curled onto her side, into herself, feeling oddly empty. Even though the phone sex had been hot, and yes, satisfying, it wasn’t the same when Vince wasn’t here to pull her close. Right now she wanted to curl into his big, muscular body, breathe in his scent. Wanted it so much her eyes burned with tears. “I miss you so much,” she whispered, unable to keep the emotion from her voice.

He sighed heavily. “I miss you too, Theresa, more than I ever thought possible.”

Something bloomed in her chest, deep and intense. Something that felt an awful lot like love.

V
ince’s mind and body were spinning out of control. Phone sex. He was in the middle of one of the biggest deals of his career, and he’d nearly missed an important investor meeting because he was busy having phone sex with Theresa in his hotel room.

Even without Theresa actually there, it was still a sexually satisfying experience. Yet it left him unfulfilled and on edge, like giving a starving man a tiny taste of an appetizer when what he really needed was an all-you-can-eat buffet.

He was crazy about her. He’d realized his feelings were intensifying well past the point of merely sleeping together, but he hadn’t realized how far gone he was until he was forced to be away from her for a week. Not even. Jesus, he was out of his mind after only five days away from her.

He thought about her nonstop, wondering what she was doing. Wondering if she missed him, embarrassed that he missed her as much as he did. He told her he hadn’t had time to call, which was a lie. He’d forced himself not to call, trying to prove he could survive several days without talking to her, hearing her voice.

Because hey, their relationship was not about talk, not by a long shot. It was all sex, pure and simple. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

In a moment of weakness, he’d broken down and called her, and then she’d surprised the hell out of him by suggesting phone sex.

God, he couldn’t wait to see her. His body was humming by the time his plane touched down on the runway. On the cab ride home he reminded himself that Theresa would be at work by the time he got home, so he’d have to wait several hours to see her. Touch her. Taste her. He needed to be patient.

Yeah, tell that to his cock.

He let himself in the front gate and did a double take when he saw the lights on in Theresa’s cottage. Something that felt like butterflies erupted in his stomach at the prospect of seeing her.
Calm down
, he told himself sternly.
She probably just left a light on for the damn dog.
God, she had him as excited as a fifteen-year-old about to lose his virginity.

Then her door opened and she was calling his name. She stood in her doorway, smiling, wearing a short, satiny robe, her dark hair spilling thick and wavy over her shoulders. Vince swore he heard angels sing as he rushed across the yard.

He wasn’t sure who moved first, but the next thing he knew his mouth was on hers and her arms wound around his neck as she stood up on tiptoe to press herself as close as possible. His suitcase and briefcase landed with a thump on her floor as he pushed her back inside. Somehow he shrugged out of his suit coat as he picked her up by the waist and maneuvered her to the closest flat surface he could find.

His hip bumped the small kitchen table. Good enough for what he was after, and that was getting inside her as fast as humanly possible. His mouth never left hers, sucking on her tongue, nipping at her lips as he yanked the silky lapels of her robe apart. He was vaguely aware of something pale and silky underneath, but he didn’t take the time to appreciate it as her hands flicked open his belt buckle and unfastened his pants. She tugged his pants and boxers down over his hips and his cock sprang out like a beast, hard and aching and raring to go.

She produced a condom out of thin air and rolled it on. She knew exactly what he wanted, needed, because she shimmied out of her underwear and spread her legs wide, tilting her hips up as he plowed into her with a complete lack of restraint or finesse.

“Theresa,” he said, but inside his brain he was screaming,
mine!
Then all he could manage was a strangled moan as her body tightened around him, surrounding him like a hot, wet fist as he pumped inside her.

Two strokes and he was already coming, unable to hold back his orgasm if his life depended on it.
Fuck.
He would make it up to her later…

But, sweet Christ, she was right there with him, moaning and squirming under him as her body convulsed around his, clenching and releasing in concert with his own release.

Afterward he felt like he’d been hit by a truck, unable to muster the energy to do anything but land the occasional kiss on her cheek.

She shifted underneath him, and he realized that this wasn’t the most comfortable position for either of them: Theresa on her back on the hard table, her satin robe and ivory satin and lace bra twisted around her torso, and him still fully clothed and bent over her with his face resting on the table’s faux wood finish.

Mustering the last of his energy, he scooped her up and staggered the few steps to the couch. Chester, who’d apparently been asleep curled in a corner, jumped up in surprise.

“Down boy,” Vince muttered, settling on the couch with Theresa on his lap. “I thought you would be at work,” he said, smoothing her sex-tangled hair.

“I told Gia I ate some bad fish and she found someone to cover for me,” she said with a guilty smile. “I wanted to be here when you got home. I hope that’s okay.”

He laughed. “More than okay,” he said, pulling her even closer. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it until you got home from the restaurant, I was so excited to see you.”

She lifted her head from his shoulder and cocked a dark, arched brow at him. “Yeah?”

He traced a finger down her cheek and grinned. “Are you kidding? I had to keep my briefcase on my lap the entire ride home so the cab driver wouldn’t think I was some kind of pervert.”

She laughed at that, and the soft sound rippled through him. He buried his nose in her hair, drinking in the soft, warm feel of her in his arms, the sweet, girly scent of her filling his head. In his life, in his work, he was rarely at rest, physically or mentally. He was always in motion, whether on a long run or running to his next big meeting. His mind was always thinking two, three steps ahead, chasing the next deal, cooking up a strategy for his next big move.

One of his ex-girlfriends had been really into meditation therapy and had tried to get him to try it. He’d refused, saying he had too much to do to waste any time sitting around with his eyes closed thinking about nothing. Needless to say, the relationship hadn’t lasted long.

But one thing she’d talked about sprang to mind right now as he sat on the couch with Theresa curled in his arms. Being present in the moment. Right now he wasn’t thinking about anything but Theresa, the way she felt, the way she sounded, the way she smelled.

The way she made him feel.

He’d been having a lot of these moments lately. Since he met her, in fact. She made the rest of the world fall away. It was kind of amazing.

And really fucking unnerving, especially for a guy like him, who had pretty much managed to convince himself that nothing—especially not a woman—would ever distract him from his drive to succeed. Yet here he was, on the couch with his twenty-four-year-old maybe girlfriend, distracted.

Sometime later he carried her to the bedroom and made love to her again. This time nice and slow, paying special attention to all the parts he’d missed.

Afterward she lay back against the pillows, stretching and yawning with a look of complete satisfaction on her face. His gaze roamed over her body, over the lush curves of breasts and hips, the sweet little patch of dark curls between her legs.

Again that possessive urge swelled inside him.
Mine.

Her hand reached for his face and she ran a thumb between his brows. He didn’t even realize he was frowning until he felt his forehead relax.

“How can you possibly be in a bad mood after that?” she said, her words ending in a sleepy yawn.

“I’m not. I was just thinking about something.” He held his breath, waiting for her, like every other woman in the world, to ask what. But Theresa, being Theresa, wasn’t inclined to pry inside his head. He caught her hand in his and kissed her fingertips. “I got you something.”

“Really?” she said, a hint of wariness in her voice. “You don’t have to get me presents.”

He shook his head and went to retrieve the box from his suitcase. He climbed back in bed and held out the flat velvet case as an uncharacteristic wave of nervousness washed over him. He hadn’t bought a piece of jewelry for a woman in years, after realizing that they assigned way more meaning to gifts like that than he ever intended.

But when he’d seen the pendant in the Cartier window, he’d known he had to buy it for her. The rich red ruby would glow against her creamy skin. The stone was on the smaller side, in a setting that was faintly exotic, just like her. Luxurious, but not so flashy she couldn’t wear it every day. That really got him off, the idea of her wearing it every day, the pendant nestled against the warmth of her breast.

Jesus, he was sounding like a lovesick chick even in his own head.

He knew what the gesture meant, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it out loud, and the idea made his gut twist in apprehension. And the way Theresa was staring at the box, as though he were holding a snake in his hand, didn’t help matters.

“Vince.” she said warily. “I don’t think—”

“Just open it,” he snapped.

Eyes wide, she took the case from him and opened the lid, exhaling on a sharp gasp when she saw the pendant hanging on the delicate gold chain. “It’s gorgeous,” she breathed.

He started to grin.

She snapped the lid shut and shoved the case back in his hand. “It’s too much. I can’t accept it.”

Patience, never his strong suit, fled in the face of fatigue, jet lag, and irritation. “Why the fuck not?” he said in a tone that had made many a CEO cower across a boardroom table.

She flinched almost imperceptibly. “It’s too expensive. You buying me jewelry is not part of our deal—”

“C’mon, Theresa, I saw something and wanted you to have it, simple as that.” Actually, it was more complicated than he wanted to explain, but he was too fucking tired to try logic to get through her resistance. “I don’t see why you have to make such a big deal out of it.”

“We already covered this before you left. I don’t want you to give me money, or buy me jewelry like I’m your mistress—”

“Theresa, I offered to pay for school because I want to spend more time with you. And I bought you the necklace because I wanted to buy my
girlfriend
something beautiful.” He got up from the bed and yanked his pants on. The jewelry case lay on the bed. He picked it up and tossed it at her. “Take it or don’t. Right now I’m too tired to give a shit.”

Theresa’s chest constricted as she watched Vince’s retreating form. Through his anger and frustration, she could read his hurt. Big, tough, arrogant Vince’s feelings were hurt. The realization cut her to the quick.

God, how had her foray into no-strings-attached sex become such a convoluted mess? She wasn’t supposed to care so much.

And neither was he. But he did, and that realization sent such pure delight through her she thought she might burst through her skin.

She’d resigned herself to her own feelings, prepared herself to deal with the inevitable end of their affair. Not once had she allowed herself to consider he might return her feelings. She was a college dropout with skeletons in her closet she didn’t expect him to get past. He was a high-powered, high-profile businessman who wore his wealth and success as easily as he wore his own skin.

But at this moment none of that seemed to matter, and for the first time since her life had spun completely out of control, Theresa allowed herself to hope for something so completely out of reach.

“Vince, wait,” she said, shrugging into her short satin robe and grabbing the jewelry case as she hurried after him.

He turned to face her, his face a mask of impatience.

She held out the case to him. “Will you put it on me?”

He took the case warily and opened it. The thin gold chain and filigree of the pendant were even more delicate in his big, long-fingered hand. She lifted her hair and turned away from him so he could loop the chain around her neck and fasten it with deft fingers. He kissed her neck and turned her to face the mirror that hung over the couch.

The ruby’s deep red was set off perfectly against her faintly olive skin and dark hair. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

“You’re beautiful.”

She turned to him and buried her face in his chest. “I’m sorry I was such an idiot,” she said. “But this is moving really fast for me. I didn’t expect—” She cut herself off before she admitted too much.

“This is way more than rebound sex, isn’t it?” She could hear the hint of laughter in his question. She nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist.

After that, everything was different. Though they didn’t spell it out in so many words, the energy between Vince and Theresa had changed, and they both knew it. Before, Theresa had tried to maintain a certain amount of distance. Sure, they’d slept together every night, but it had been more furtive, like she was sneaking over to his place after work only to have sex.

Now they spent every spare moment together, which admittedly wasn’t much. Vince’s work schedule was as jampacked as ever and Theresa’s working nights didn’t help any. But on weekends before she had to go to work, they spent long, lazy mornings in bed before taking Chester for meandering walks around the city.

When she had an evening off, he took her out to dinner, or even better, let her play around with all of his fancy kitchen equipment, often with mixed results.

“It’s good,” he insisted one night as he chewed doggedly at a piece of roast chicken so dry and tough it was like eating string.

She shot him a look and ate a bite of salad. “I didn’t realize it would cook so much faster in a convection oven.” She tried another bite of the chicken, just to be sure. Yep, it sucked. “This is worse than my mom’s Thanksgiving turkey.”

He blotted his lips and took a sip of wine. “Will you be spending the holiday with your folks?” he said, his voice carefully neutral.

She’d been trying not to think about the holiday coming up soon. “I have to work,” she said. But that didn’t leave her completely off the hook. Gia had reminded her several times about the Ciprianis’ longstanding tradition of closing the restaurant on the Friday after the holiday to host a big dinner for the family and restaurant staff. Theresa would have tried to beg off, come up with some sort of excuse not to go, but she knew that this, the first major holiday after Uncle Alberto’s death, would be especially hard on Gia. And after all her cousin had done for her, Theresa couldn’t bail simply because she didn’t want to face the family.