by T L Swan
I giggle, imagining being on the wrong side of Enrico. What a nightmare that would be.
“What about you? Where do you live?” he asks.
“I live in Sydney.”
“Who with?”
“Alone.”
His face falls. “You live alone?”
“Yes.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven. How old are you?”
“I’m thirty-two.”
“Old,” I say.
He chuckles and his eyes linger on my face again. “So, you…” He stops himself.
“Go ahead. Ask whatever you wanted to.”
“You have just come out of a relationship?”
I shrug. “Yes and no.”
“What does that mean?”
“I broke up with my childhood sweetheart when I was twenty-four, and then…” I pause, embarrassed. “Then I met my next boyfriend and I was with him for a couple of years. We broke up over a year ago.”
Our breakfast arrives. It looks amazing as the waiter puts it down in front of us. “Grazie.” I smile before we are left alone again.
Rico looks back up at me. “Why did you break up with the last boyfriend?”
“He wasn’t the one.”
“Who broke it off?”
“I did.”
He picks up his coffee and sips it, seemingly mollified.
“Why are you still single, Rico?”
“I haven’t had a serious girlfriend in years.”
“Why not?”
“I guess I wasn’t ready to settle down.” He pauses and then shrugs. “I don’t know.”
Alarm bells start to go off. Player.
Feeling brave, I blurt out, “Do you sleep around?”
He holds his cutlery mid-air, clearly surprised by my question. “Would it matter if I did?”
“Not really, but it would give me an indication as to who you are.”
“Do you think that the number of people you sleep with determines what kind of person you are?”
“Maybe.”
“In that case, how many men have you had sex with?”
“Two.”
He stares at me, and then blinks. Whether that’s in shock, horror, or awe, I can’t work out.
“Two?” he gasps.
I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing. “Does that scare you?”
He picks up his coffee and takes a huge gulp before he finally responds. “Should it?’
“Not at all. I’m just super fussy. I have impossibly high ideals when it comes to men.” I bat my eyelashes to try and be cute.
He smirks as if pleased with my answer.
“You didn’t answer my question, Rico,” I tease as I cut into my toast.
“That’s because I’m choosing to avoid it.”
I giggle. “You just answered it anyway.”
He smiles broadly and gives me a cheeky wink.
The energy between us suddenly becomes playful and light. He’s a player. I’m a good girl. The boundaries are set. No false pretenses.
“So, where are you taking me on the back of your bike today, Mr. Ferrara?”
He gives me the best come fuck me look I’ve ever seen. “Somewhere you’ve never been before.”
The air crackles between us, and I get the feeling my good girl image just became his ultimate challenge. Nervous butterflies dance in my stomach.
He takes a spoonful of granola. “When in Rome, Olivia.”
“Do as the Romans do?”
“Or.” He shrugs casually. “Just do the Romans.”
“Oh, that’s witty.” I giggle.
He chuckles. “You like that?”
“You’re such a romantic.”
“It comes naturally.” He raises his coffee cup to me, and I laugh out loud.
“Lucky me.”
We’ve been to the Ostia Antica ruins, The Coliseum, and around the eclectic streets of Rome. The roar of the engine echoes as Rico’s motorbike pulls to a slow stop at the parking lot of the beach. It’s around 3:00 p.m. in the afternoon and the sun is high in the sky. I cling to his broad back. My legs are tucked around him, and the day has been dreamy.
We’ve laughed, talked, and I have to admit that Enrico Ferrara is one hell of a tour guide. Although, half of the time as he spoke about the attractions, I was just staring at his lips, imagining them on me. Imagining being the key word because, well, he hasn’t fucking touched me all day. Not once.
He hasn’t held my hand, grazed my arm with his, or anything. I’ve clung to his back on this motorbike like the groupie that I am, sure, but other than that… nothing. There has been no kissing at all. Not even a peck.
What the hell is going on?
Last night we kissed all night, he was all over me. Couldn’t get enough, today…. nothing. Maybe he doesn’t like me anymore.
Maybe I blurted out too much information about myself this morning. Damn it, why did I tell him my pathetic number of lovers? He probably thinks I’m a dud.
And he would be right. Who has two fucking lovers? Losers, that’s who.
I am getting sick of being the good girl all the damn time. What I wouldn’t give to be wild and free for once.
Rico pulls the motorbike to a stop, and I slowly climb off the back and step onto the road. He turns to me and takes my helmet off. I hold my breath, and he smiles down at me. Does he know what I’m thinking?
“The bathrooms are over there if you want to get changed.” He gestures to the restroom.
“Okay, thanks.” I make my way to the bathroom and into the cubicle to put on my white string bikini. My hands shake nervously. I try and stretch the fabric over my behind, but this bikini feels so freaking small now that I have to go out there in it. I put my face into my hands. I’m a ball of nervous energy. He has me tied in knots.
I take out my phone and text my best friend Natalie. She’ll probably be at work but this is the first time I’ve had a moment alone to text her about last night… and today. Holy crap, there’s a lot to tell her.
Hi, I’m at the beach in a bikini.
Been on the back of a god’s motorbike all day, sight-seeing.
I’m totally loving Rome xoxoxox
I hit send.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I whisper out loud to myself. I exhale heavily and fake confidence before I walk out to the beach.
Rico is waiting for me, wearing black shorts… only shorts. He’s super tall and has a broad chest with a scattering of black hair covering it. His tanned, olive skin is rippled with muscle. I count his six pack of abs. I stop still on the spot as my breath catches.
Holy fuckballs.
Rico’s eyes drop down my nearly naked body and he bites his bottom lip to hide his smile. “Hello,” he purrs.
“Hi,” I breathe as the air leaves my lungs.
“Nice swimsuit.” He raises a brow.
I adjust the top to try and cover more of my boob. “Thanks. It felt bigger in the store.”
He drops his head, as if stopping himself from saying something he shouldn’t. “Shall we go over here?”
“Uh-huh.”
He gestures for me to walk in front of him, and I die a little. Oh, God, he wants to watch my behind as I walk. It’s going to be jiggling to hell.
“No, after you, I insist,” I say.
He smirks, and we walk side-by-side over to the beach. “Do you want to get a deck chair?”
“I’m happy to lie on the sand.”
He stares at me for a beat. “On your back on the sand it is.”
That statement sounded so sexual that it’s just ridiculous.
We find a spot, and he lays out the two towels before he lies down on one. I sit beside him. He closes his eyes and puts his face up to the sun. “Sol has been good to us.”
I slide down beside him. “Who?”
“Sol, the god of the sun.”
I smile dreamily as I close my eyes. “How do you know so much about your country’s his
tory? You’ve rattled off everything today like a professional tour guide.”
“It interests me.”
“Thank you for today. It’s been amazing. I appreciate you taking the time to show me around.”
“The day is not over yet, bella,” he murmurs with his eyes closed.
I stare at him for a moment. Why hasn’t he touched me?
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Is there something wrong?”
“No, why?”
“You haven’t touched me today,” I whisper.
His eyes come over to me, and he rolls on his side to face me. “Why do you think I’m lying here with my eyes closed?” He picks up my hand and kisses my fingertips. “I haven’t touched you today because I know that if I did, I may not be able to stop. My attraction to you, Olivia, is stronger than I am.”
I smile softly.
“I dragged myself from your side last night, and then when I got home…” His eyes darken and drop to my lips. “I jerked off for two hours trying to get my cock to go down. He wanted you so fucking bad.”
My brows rise. “How did that go?” I whisper.
“My hand definitely wasn’t you, and my cock definitely isn’t satisfied.”
“Jesus, Rico,” I whisper. “Don’t mince your words, will you?”
“Why would I?”
I stare at him as the air swirls between us. I want him. I want every hard inch of this gorgeous man. To hell with being a good girl. I’ve never had a one-night stand, and damn it, I deserve one. This can be a hall pass from my annoying conscience. I know I’m never going to see him again, and that’s okay. I want him, and screw this, I’m having him. He can always be that beautiful man I met in Italy—the one from another world.
I grab my sunscreen and hand Rico the bottle. “Can you put sunscreen on me, please?” I ask.
He licks his lips. “You’re playing with fire.”
Our eyes are locked.
“When in Rome, right?” I raise my brow, and then I roll onto my stomach as excitement begins to tear through my system. I’m really doing this. I can almost hear my lady parts all cheering in a mosh pit somewhere from deep inside. After a beat, I hear the sunscreen bottle being squeezed, and I close my eyes. It’s an oil-based sunscreen. My heart is beating so hard. I hear his hands rub together, and then I feel him straddle my behind. The weight of his body on top of mine pushes me into the sand and wakes up a demon inside of me. He’s heavy, broad, and… oh, fuck…
He unfastens my bikini top, and I scrunch my eyes shut against the towel. Shit!
His hands slide up my back in a strong, slow motion, and my sex clenches with appreciation. His fingers drift up and over my shoulders, and then down my sides, skimming the sides of my breasts. Goosebumps scatter across my skin.
I can’t breathe.
He nudges forward and I feel his erection up against my behind. My heart freefalls from my chest. Oh, fuck yeah. God, he feels good.
Calm down, calm down, calm down, I repeat over and over in my head.
I can’t calm the fuck down, though, because a god has his hands on me and I’m about to have an oily orgasm in public.
It’s been way too long.
I close my eyes as his hands explore every inch of my back and legs.
“Roll over, baby.”
Baby! That sounds good.
I hold my bikini top to my breasts and roll onto my back. His eyes are dark and filled with desire. He reapplies sunscreen to his hand and leans on his elbow beside me before he begins to run more oil into my body. I scrunch my eyes shut.
Filled with nerves, I can’t watch his face as he studies me this way for the first time. He rubs his palms over my stomach, down over my hipbones, and my inner thighs.
I have to concentrate hard on not spreading my legs like every instinct is screaming at me to do.
“Olivia,” he whispers. “Creamy, white, perfect skin.” His voice is almost a purr and it does things to my insides. “These curves.” He hisses in approval, and his hand slides under my bikini top as he cups my breast, momentarily losing focus.
“The sun doesn’t reach there.” I smile.
“Ah.” He pulls his hand out. “That’s right, sorry. I got carried away.”
I giggle, and I hear the oil being poured out again.
“Don’t I have enough on?” I ask.
“No, I’ll probably have to do this all day.” His hand falls back to my stomach, moving in circles.
I laugh and feel myself begin to relax.…. oh, I really like him. I know I could go into this weekend being shy and mousy with a stranger—which is what I would normally do—but it always ends the same way with every guy. We meet, go along happily, but when push comes to shove, I block him out and push him away. I’ve had many opportunities over the years to sleep around. I’ve just never felt the need before. This time feels different, and perhaps I could go into this weekend pretending that I already know Rico better than I really do.
I love sex. I love making love. I love everything about the beautiful male body. Damn, I’ve missed it. I may have only been with two men, but they spoilt me sexually. They were the best teachers a girl could have ever asked for. I was sexually compatible with both of them, and it broke my heart that neither of them could hold me mentally. I loved both for different reasons, but I never felt complete, not even when I was safely in their arms. Something has always been missing in my life; an invisible barrier, holding me back from moving forward. I don’t know if it’s my career, lack of travel or experience. Perhaps it’s what my best friend Natalie thinks, and I really do have a hang up I have from my childhood after living through a divorce.
Maybe I’ll never get over my disappointment from my parents’ divorce. I don’t know. It was a case of it’s me, not you with both of them.
They were perfect… just not perfect for me.
I’m brought back to the moment as Rico’s hand skims my hip bone, and he inhales sharply. I can feel his arousal through his hands, he’s on the edge.
Why does it feel so good driving a man wild with need for my body?
The power is like a drug to my system, and screw it, I’m going to make it my mission to make him insane. I may just be another notch on his Italian bedpost, but I’m going to make sure he remembers me. I’m going to get an axe and chop his fucking bedpost down. I arch my back and spread my legs a little.
“It’s been so long since I’ve been touched,” I whisper.
Rico’s eyes darken and his lips slowly part. I know he’s imagining touching me there. “How long?” he breathes.
“Over twelve months.”
He frowns, as if puzzled by the notion. “How the fuck do you go without sex for twelve months, Olivia?”
I love the way he says my name. With his accent, he says it with four syllables.
Ol-liv-i-a.
I arch my back again. “With great difficulty,” I whisper as I stare up at him. I can feel my sex as it throbs. Aching…
“You’re making it very hard for me to behave,” he mutters as his hand slides underneath my bikini top once more. My nipple peaks with excitement, and he rolls it between his fingertips.
“Maybe I don’t want you to,” I whisper.
“Maybe I need to take you home.”
“Maybe you do.”
He leans down and his lips take mine. His tongue slowly slides through my mouth with just the right amount of pressure.
Fuck.
I could come. Just from his kiss, I could come.
We kiss again, this time with more urgency, and he leans over so I can feel his erection against my hip.
I want to drive him wild. I want to drive him wild in public.
Game on.
“Let’s go swimming,” I breathe. I stand and pull him to his feet with one hand. The tip of his cock is peeking over the top of his shorts. It’s pink, broad, and holy fucking shit, I’ve never seen anything so perfect. Unable to help it,
I smile and kiss him as I tuck him back in. My libido hits fever pitch. She begins to warm up, knowing that a marathon is on its way.
Enrico and I walk down to the water. The beach is nearly empty with only a few people swimming down the other end. We wade in up to our necks. The water is fresh and salty, and Rico takes me into his arms and wraps my legs around his waist. My hands roam up and over his broad shoulders as we float. I can feel every muscle on his cut body. We kiss softly, enjoying the feel of each other’s bodies.
I’m like a feather in his arms.
Our kiss turns desperate as he grinds my sex onto his swollen cock.
I can’t hear, I can’t see. I can only feel him and his magical body beneath my hands.
Unable to help it, I reach down and slide the front of his shorts down. I want to feel him. I want to feel what I’m about to have.
He’s large. My hand hardly fits around him, and I can feel every vein on his engorged length. My insides clench, and I whimper in appreciation.
He falls still, and we stare at each other as I slowly stroke him.
“Don’t come until I say so,” I breathe.
He smiles darkly as if amused by my request. “You trying to top from the bottom, baby.”
I pull him hard, and his eyes close as he almost loses his footing. “From where I’m standing Rico, it’s you that’s trying to top from the bottom.”
He chuckles and pumps my hand hard. His eyes flicker with a level of arousal that I’ve never seen in a man before. “I’ll come when I’m fucking ready,” he growls.
My insides begin to liquefy. Holy fucking fuck. He’s off-the-hook hot.
We get into a rhythm; I pull, he pumps. Our lips are locked, and I don’t know if anyone is watching us or what we look like from land, but I don’t care.
I want this. I want to blow Rico Ferrara’s mind in the Mediterranean Sea.
His eyes are closed, and his hands fall limp on my hips. I know he’s close. He can’t function. His breathing is ragged, and he keeps pumping in an orgasm-induced stupor. I smile against his lips, proud of myself. Who knew I was capable of being this wild and spontaneous? I reach down with my other hand to cups his balls. I bring them up as I tighten my grip on his cock.
He shudders with a moan. I stroke him hard again, and his eyes flicker.
I put my mouth to his ear. “You can come now, Rici,” I whisper. “You have my permission.”