My Italian Billionaire: A BWWM Italian Billionaire Romance (5 page)

"Fine, fine!" He held up his hands in surrender.

"Do you snore?"

"Not that I know of."

Her eyes narrowed, but she seemed to accept that. "And do you have cold feet?"

"Cold feet?"

"If you do, you'll have to wear socks. My bed is too small for you to not end up having your feet on my leg at one point during the night, and I won't have you waking me up with freezing toes."

She was too much. He started to laugh.

"I'm not joking." Megan pushed her nose into the air.

He kissed the tip of it. "I don't think my feet are cold, but I'll wear socks for you just in case."

Her eyes widened. "You will?"

"Anything for you."

The words slipped out easily, and he wondered if that was the case. In bed, yes, but outside of the bedroom? Only time would tell.

Chapter Six: Cooking for One

Her bed was far too small for two people. Living in New York on her tight salary meant she couldn't afford a queen or king, not that she needed one. And actually, she didn't mind it too much. It meant Lucca had to hold her all night long.

It was strange, sleeping with someone else. It had been a long while, but she might be willing to become accustomed to it.

Oh hell. What was she thinking? She needed to worry about her job, not whether or not to start a relationship with a hot Italian guy she barely knew. Just thinking about him made her grow wet, and she struggled to rub her legs together to satisfy her itch without waking Lucca.

Gradually, listening to his steady breathing—no snoring, she was relieved to hear—she managed to fall asleep too. She woke, suddenly cold. Not only was the blanket gone but Lucca wasn't there. Between her legs was still damp, probably from the porn-like dream she'd had last night starring the two of them, and she sat up with a groan. Stretching highlighted each sore muscle. So Lucca had left. Could she be that surprised? Her attempt to learn more about the mysterious man had turned around so she ended up sharing more about her life than he had.

Maybe he's read those stupid magazines that say women like to talk about themselves.
She snorted, even though there might be a little bit of truth to the statement.

After a quick detour in the bathroom to wash up, she started back to her room to change but the sound of banging in the kitchen combined with the smell of eggs had her sneaking toward the kitchen. There was the blanket, draped on the floor at the entryway to the kitchen. At the stove was Lucca. Naked except for her chef's hat. Fiddling with the dial on her stove. Fooling with the eggs too much for them to cook.

She leaned against the entryway and crossed her arms over her bare breasts.

He glanced up and smiled then frowned before smiling again. "I was hoping to bring you breakfast in bed."

"I was hoping you'd still be in bed when I woke."

His dark eyes darkened. "There might be time for that after breakfast."

Megan glanced at the clock. She did have some time before her shift started.

"Don't you have a job to go to?" she asked.

Now his eyes darkened even more, but not from lust. "I haven't gone back since my father…"

"Oh!" He had said recently, but she hadn't realized just how recent. She really had a way of opening her mouth and inserting her foot.

"I probably should, but I don't have to. Not today at least." He opened several cabinets until he found the plates and unevenly apportioned the eggs. After dumping too much salt and not enough pepper on them, he brought the plates over to the table.

Not knowing how to save her blunder, she grabbed some napkins, forks, two glasses, and the orange juice from the fridge. She tried to wait for him to take the first bite, noting he gave her the plate with the large helping of eggs, but he seemed to be waiting on her. Giving him a wide smile and trying to be optimistic, she shoved in a decent-sized bite. Well… at least he hadn't burned them.

She smiled as she chewed and chewed and chewed before swallowing.

"How are they?" he asked eagerly. He shoveled in some and spat it out. "Oh. Wow. That's just…"

Megan lifted another forkful. "I can't remember the last time someone cooked for me."

He lowered her hand. "Please, don't force yourself to eat it."

Her stomach churned. While she didn't want to eat the food, but she also didn't want to waste it. Eggs were expensive. Hell, the price of milk was crazy now. Every time she went to the grocery store, she winced at the bill. Cooking for one didn't help to lower that expense.

Lucca's sigh cut through her thoughts. "I never made eggs before. I thought it would be easy enough but…" He shrugged.

She maneuvered her arm so his hand fell into hers. "You should've left it to the professional."

Her joke had him relaxing. "I just wanted to—"

"The thought's been noted." She gathered their plates and brought them to the counter. "Why don't you clean those while I whip up a fresh batch?"

Megan grabbed the carton of eggs, spinach, milk, and cheese from the fridge. She turned the heat on low and used a fresh pan since the one he'd been using was beyond dirty with clumps of overcooked eggs mixed with undercooked chunks still in it.

As she started to scramble the eggs with a fork, careful not to overscramble and to capture air so they'd be light and fluffy, she realized she had an audience.

"Go away." She swatted him with the spatula.

"Can't I watch you make your magic?"

"And sell my secrets? No. Go." She waited until he walked over to the table to resume her work.

He eyed her still, and she tried not to be embarrassed. She wasn't used to having someone hover over her shoulder. It kinda reminded her of her mama, who always harped at her to make things the "right" way without adding any flair or substitutions. She had always been experimenting with food, ever since middle school. Her mama thought that it was unnatural. "Guys like their girls thick but not too thick. Curves but not rolls. You keep eating all the time and you'll blow up to a balloon and who will want you then? No one, that's who."

It made her so mad to think about that now. She'd almost started down the road to an eating disorder because of her mama's spiteful words. Yes, she enjoyed her food, but why shouldn't she enjoy the fruits of her labor? Besides, she was at a healthy weight.

It took her longer to cook their omelets than Lucca had spent on his, and her stomach was rumbling by the time they were done. She brought them over, and Lucca didn't even wait for her to sit down before he dug in.

His eyes widened and then closed as he swallowed. "Now that is good." His grin died, and his lower lip protruded.

"What is it?" She hesitated to take her first bite, waiting for his answer.

"I guess you won't be willing to teach me how to make them because of your secrets." He ate with a good appetite, but he also was taking his time. Like he did with her last night.

She crossed her legs, moisture pooling between them. "I might be willing to teach you a few things," she offered. Her gaze ever so slightly shifted toward her bedroom.

His crooked grin had her heart rate racing. "I'm a quick learner."

"Good."

They rushed their meal, eager to get back to it. Who was this Lucca? To try to make her breakfast even if he had failed was so sweet and tender, but he had been controlling and dominating and wild in the bedroom. She enjoyed both sides thoroughly.

Then again, her thief boyfriend had seemed sweet too. When it came to men, she had a losing record. The guy before that, the first guy she had slept with ever and her high school boyfriend, had lied to her. If there was anything worse than stealing, it was lying. Betraying trust wasn't something she could forgive.

Which was why she had wanted to learn more about this Lucca. Already she was growing close to him, and since she knew next to nothing about him, that really scared her.

But for right now, she was willing to be the teacher in the bedroom. She could show him a few tricks, she was sure. Later on, there would be time to get to know the real Lucca.

As soon as they scraped the last of their omelets onto their forks and swallowed the final bite, she held out her hand and led him back to her bedroom.

Chapter Seven: The Student

It wasn't often that Lucca gave up control. Even with his father's business, he was so high up the ladder that most everyone had to obey him. In the bedroom, the women he invited fell over themselves to do whatever he wanted.
For my money,
he thought bitterly.

Giving over control to Megan, though, that he didn't seem to mind so much. Maybe it was because she was still a mystery, a puzzle he had to solve, an unknown he found intriguing. Regardless, he found himself growing very hard as she led him to her bed.

She popped in a CD—no iPod for her, he noticed—and Janet Jackson started to croon about any time, any place. Swaying her hips, Megan made her way over to him as he sat on the edge of her bed. Along the way, she grabbed his shirt from the floor. Her right knee she placed by his left leg on the bed, and she stretched her body down over his, forcing him to lie back. With his shirt still in her grasp, she coaxed his arms above his head, and using his shirt as rope, she tied his wrists together. Nice and tight. He tested it immediately.

"Now, now." Megan wagged a finger at him. "Don't try that again."

"Or?" he asked with a grin, his arm muscles tightening. He wanted to defy her just to see what she would do.

"Sh." Her finger touched his lips.

He couldn't help himself. He parted his lips and licked her finger.

The slap was sharp and unexpected, on the side of his ass. A jolt flew straight to his cock.

Her eyebrows arched. "Liked that, did you?" Her smile grew positively wicked.

His cock was throbbing by now, but she didn't seem to care. In time to the sensual beat of the song, she licked, twisted, kissed, bit, and sucked his nipples. Each touch, with either her tongue, fingers, lips, or teeth, only made him want her all the more. He couldn't stop himself from gyrating slightly.

Another slap. His balls tightened in response, and a moan was ripped from his lips.

"You're a bad boy, I can tell." She spread his legs and sat on his cock, not with him in her, oh no, but she rolled her hips, grinding him, giving him a lap dance except he was lying flat on his back instead of sitting up.

Megan lifted her hair from her neck, bouncing up and down, and her breasts shook and jiggled, and he was growing near the edge. Already. Without even being in her. Astonishing. She looked like a model. So perfect. So devastating. So crazy.

He loved what she was doing and hoped she wouldn't ever stop.

The song ended, and the second one started, this one much faster pace. Without missing a beat, Megan picked up speed. Her wet folds slicked and slid along his cock, her black curls tickling him, and drops of precum squirted out. Her grin was devious as she fingered his tip, spreading the wetness around. When she put that finger wet with his precum in her mouth, he lost control. Hot cum spewed out from his cock onto his belly. She continued to grind against him, forcing his cock to continue pulsing and twitching and emptying every last drop from him.

"How…" He moved to sit up. He never came that quickly. Never. He was almost disappointed in himself.

Her hand slapped his upper torso, driving him back down. "I'm not done."

His cock had started to grow limp, but when she leaned down and licked up the mess she created, he began to harden again. She twisted around so her fine ass was in his face, her tongue still licking, her one hand stroking his growing length, the other toying with his balls.

No way would he be able to come again, but it still felt incredible. Lying back like this, being the recipient of so much pleasure… That should be every guy's dream come true, but all he wanted was to give back, to hear her moan, make her shout his name, have her feel as good as she was making him feel.

But he didn't want to be slapped again. It had felt strange to take pleasure from pain, so instead of just doing what he wanted to do to her, he felt compelled to say, "I'm still hungry."

In answer, she shoved her pussy toward his face, and he proceeded to eat her out. The taste of her drove him wild, but when her lips and tongue moved from his stomach to his cock, he was in a near frenzy. They were both moaning around the other's sex, fighting to get the other off first. Being bound forced him to only use his lips and tongue, and he alternated between giving attention to her clit and to her pussy. With every second, she grew wetter and wetter until she screamed out, "Lucca!" and he knew she was his.

Before he could even feel the cold air from her mouth leaving his cock from when she shouted his name, she was right back to sucking. His hips jerked up and down, and unbelievably, he knew he was on the brink, as impossible as that was. Her teeth ever so slightly grazed his tip, and he orgasmed again. No ejaculation this time, or only very little, but he still felt waves of pleasure.

She rolled off of him, her head by his knees, and her ankles by his face. It was impossible to tell who was breathing more heavily.