He places a finger under my chin and forces me to look into his eyes. “That was a lie. I’ve been walking in a state of semi-arousal since you rescued me. God, you must know how sexy you are, Chiara.”
I can’t help the elation that spreads through my chest, but at the same time, I’m scared that the feeling isn’t real, that it’s only a reaction to the shitty day I’ve had.
“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings before,” he continues. "This is all a bit unusual for me. I’m not a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy. This trip to Italy was my attempt to loosen up a bit.”
“You may find it hard to believe, but I also don’t do things like this.”
“Like what? Taking advantage of stranded guys you find on the side of the road?”
I hit him on the chest, getting a deep chuckle from him in return. “No, hooking up with a man I barely know, even though my cousin Paola will say differently.”
Alistair’s expression turns serious, right before he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I want you to promise me something.”
“What?”
“Promise you won’t think about your cousin, your mother, or anyone else who made you sad today. For the next couple of days, I want you to be one-hundred-percent happy.”
“Next couple of days?” I raise an eyebrow at him while my heart jams against the confines of my chest and the butterflies in my stomach turn into ninja insects.
He rewards me with a crooked smile before capturing my mouth for a long, toe-curling kiss. When he finally lets go of my lips with a pop, I’m a little light-headed.
“Yes,” he answers. “I have two days here in Siena before I head back to Florence to catch my flight to the States. I’d love to spend them with you. I do need someone who speaks the language, after all.”
“Oh, so you just want me around for my oral skills?”
His heated gaze drops to my lips. “Yes, among other things.”
6
Alistair
I’m going to hell for this, but I couldn’t resist Chiara, not when her delicious mouth covered mine, bringing forth a deep-rooted desire I didn’t know I was still able to feel. I’ve slept with other women since Nadine, but all those encounters were meaningless, hollow. With Chiara, it’s different; it isn’t about taking care of a physiological need. I don’t even know why that is. Maybe it’s the place or the circumstance of how we met. In the end, it doesn’t matter.
I never tasted anything sweeter than her tongue, and as I walk side by side with her, I have to fight the urge to stop every few minutes to attack her mouth again. My cock is straining against the seams of my borrowed pants, and I know I won’t find proper release until I’m buried deep inside her.
Our hands are fused together as we roam the streets of this medieval town. Chiara points at things she finds interesting or offers a little bit of historical information whenever she can. I said before that I wanted her to be truly happy in these two days we spend together, but what I didn’t factor into the equation was being happy myself as well. And I am. I haven’t felt this way since I caught Nadine fucking Wade in our own bed.
With a silent groan, I quickly banish the image from my head before it sours my mood.
I focus on Chiara instead. The shadow that dimmed her eyes earlier is gone. She pulls me toward a particular store with several trinkets and shiny objects on display. Pointing at a twisted wire silver bracelet with an opal stone as the focal point, she explains something about it. I’m only half listening because I’m too distracted—staring at her instead. Finally giving in to my urges, I turn her around and capture her face between my hands to claim her mouth. She makes a small sound in the back of her throat while her body melts into mine. I can’t help but think she fits perfectly into my arms. I pull back after a while, fearing getting carried away and doing something completely inappropriate in public.
“Wow! What was that for?” she says, a little out of breath.
“Nothing. I was hit by sudden withdrawals. What were you saying about the bracelet?”
She looks at my mouth with flushed cheeks and hooded eyes for a few seconds before she replies, “Oh, that my great-grandmother used to have one just like this. She’d let me play with it and promised I could have it once I was older. When she passed away and the women in the family got together to go through her stuff, Paola said Bisnonna had promised the bracelet to her instead, which was a bold lie. My mother obviously didn’t believe me, so Paola got what she wanted.”
“Your cousin sounds lovely.”
Chiara snorts. “She’s awful, but she’s not the worst in the family.”
I eye the bracelet and commit it to memory. The store is already closed, but I’ll try to sneak back here tomorrow and get it for Chiara. I know she didn’t tell me this story to get me to buy it for her, but I want her to have it just the same.
“Come on, I’m hungry. Let’s find a place to eat.” She yanks my arm, and I let her drag me away.
I’m not exactly hungry for food, but I don’t voice that out loud. I’ll need sustenance to do what I have planned. Chiara finds a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, or charcuteria, as she calls it, a place specializing in cold cuts, cheese, and wine. After a fast exchange in Italian between Chiara and the manager, we’re ushered all the way to the back of the already busy restaurant to the last table available. The waiter removes the Reserved sign from it and helps Chiara to her seat.
After he leaves to grab our menus, I turn to her. “Did you just convince them to give their reserved table to us?”
Chiara laughs and shakes her head. “No. They usually keep one or two tables available for last-minute VIP patrons.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “Oh?”
“Well, I’m not exactly VIP, but the Moretti name carries weight in the area. I just used it. If I have to suffer being related to them, I might as well take advantage of the perks.”
Even though she tries to sound nonchalant, I hear a slight catch in her voice. Who are those people, and why do I get the impression Chiara is the anathema in the family?
The waiter returns with menus and a jug of cold water. He doesn’t speak any English, but Chiara is happy to play the interpreter for me. I sit back and let her choose the wine and the appetizers. Watching her talk with confidence and make decisions without hesitation is a hell of a turn-on. Well, not that I’m not walking at half-mast already.
I lean closer and stroke her cheek, pausing at her lips. “So, what did you get for us?”
Chiara’s tongue darts out, right before she sucks my finger into her mouth. Jesus fucking Christ. She’s going to be the death of me.
Finally letting go of my finger, she says through a wicked smile, “It’s a surprise. I hope you’re a meat lover.”
Staring at her lips, I say, “You have no idea.”
Our server comes back once more with wine, but there are no glasses in sight. Chiara smiles at me when she catches my confused look.
She flips the ceramic bowl that was already on the table—that I honestly thought was meant for soup—and lets the waiter fill it up.
“We drink wine in these like in the good old days.”
The waiter fills my bowl with an amused twist of his lips. He must get this confused reaction a lot from tourists.
Chiara raises her bowl after the guy walks away. “What shall we toast to?”
“How about an unforgettable weekend?”
She smiles, and her entire face lights up. I feel a sharp pang in my chest, and suddenly I understand why I’m having such a visceral reaction to her. She reminds me of Jamie, the best friend I lost when I was a teen. Only Jamie was a guy, and I wasn’t remotely attracted to him. He and Chiara share the same vulnerability masked by a happy-go-lucky personality though. I grin at her in return, trying not to show how much this revelation is doing my head in.
“Cheers to that.”
Chiara places the bowl back on the table, laces her hands together, and rests her chin on top of them. “So, shall we establish some ground rules for this epic weekend?”
I lean back and cross my arms. “Okay. Rule number one, we won’t speak about your family.”
Her eyes flash with an emotion I can’t discern before she says, “Deal. My turn. We won’t trade specific details about our life, like jobs, where we live, etcetera.”
