She stroked the smooth plane of his cheek. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet, Mr. Sloan.”
He grinned. “Had I known what a hard-ass you are about every thing, I would have revised my efforts to soften you up.”
“Oh, yeah?” Erica huffed. “I do have my standards, and you threw me off kilter with your crazy antics. So, how could I react any differently? But tell me something… If in our wedded bliss, I do get mad at Gianni, will you bring out Nico to appease me?”
He thought for a moment. “Hum, what a concept. Two different men in one incredible body.”
“You do know that’s about every woman’s fantasy. Although, who says you have an incredible body?”
“You do. If I recall, you screamed as much in the throes of passion.” He took his voice up a notch. “‘Ooh, ooh darling, you’re incredible!’“
“I wasn’t referring to your body as a whole.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” For emphasis, Erica reached down and grasped the object in question. His incredible cock rose instantly in her hand.
He bent to nuzzle her ear and murmur, “Are you ready for another round?”
“Hmm,” she purred as she continued to stroke him.
“Only if you give me your answer, a very simple yes or no.”
Erica drew her cheek away from his lips. “Hah, you’re still a pig!”
Looking up, he smiled. “And you’re still a tease!”
“Well, you’re a liar and a deceitful ass!”
“And you’re a gorgeous hussy!” He threw up his hand. “But from now on, I promise to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth! May God strike me down if I lie to you one more time!”
His sudden confession threw her off stride, and now Erica could only submit when Gianni quickly covered her lips. This time she dived rather than sank into his heat. Just the feel of him—whether an urgent kiss or a slow caress—would not only invoke such wonderful familiarity but dazzle her senses every time they touched. At last, she could consider what they had as the real deal, based on nothing but the marvelous, miraculous truth!
As his mouth seduced and caressed her flesh, his hands possessed all of her. Quickly, her mouth took over to give back what he gave her. His skin, salty and sweet, rippled with each flick of her tongue. Her lips continued in a soft, gentle line down his torso until her fingers and mouth took his cock with a wild, stunning hunger. She continued on her feeding frenzy, and his member grew even larger as she sucked and coddled. While her mouth took him all, her tongue tickled his ridge, and her fingers worked beneath to stroke his tight scrotum. Gianni’s sigh became a gasp that segued into a great moan of both shock and pleasure. At first, his fingers brushed the swell of her breasts and gently pinched her nipples, but soon came to caress her hair and temples. Erica felt a sudden surge of lusty desire as she reveled in his electric touch.
When she let go and moved to impale herself on his shaft, he lifted her and eagerly brought his cock tip to her opening, and then allowed her to swallow him whole. Her craving only grew more intense when she leaned over and crushed her mouth on his. Then, gripping her hips, Gianni thrust as she rocked and caught the friction of her clit against him. Soon, they worked marvelously together, stroke after wild stroke.
Erica allowed the first orgasm to burst through her, leaving her dizzy, drunk, and craving more. When her need quickly built again, she felt him swell inside of her. She knew he wanted her to wait for him this time, and she tightened her hold until he tensed in readiness.
“Ven con migo,” she murmured in delight, and he gladly obliged.
Come with me.
They experienced the simultaneous swell of relief, the bright sizzle and flash of climax, until they took the fall together. A peaceful quiet followed. They slipped next to each other, with hot, damp flesh against hot, damp flesh.
“Tell me something,” Erica murmured moments later. “You mentioned once that ‘Nico’ wanted to go into the priesthood. Was that a reflection of your own plans at one time or just something you made up to impress me?”
“Sorry, darling.” With a sated smile, he stretched beside her. “Neither Nico nor Gianni ever considered such an exalted career. Of course, even if I was a committed celibate, I would gladly give up my vows for a lifetime of loving you.”
Despite this new affirmation to tell the truth, Erica still held one last niggling doubt as she leaned over and drank in his handsome face. “If I do say yes, are you willing to forsake all others?”
“What others?” Gianni took a moment to process her words before he flashed a purely innocent smile. “What do you think? That I’d screw around when I finally found the most wonderful, beautiful, exciting, desirable woman on the face of the planet? No, make that the entire universe!”
“I’m sorry, but I’m still reeling from your other pursuits on my behalf. A lot of men say that until the next tight ass and pair of big knockers comes around.”
“On my honor!” he vowed with hand to his heart. “I’ve deleted every woman’s number from my cell phone, every woman’s photo from my laptop, and every woman, period, from my mind! I am blind, blind I tell you, to big pecheras and tight asses, unless they happen to be yours. Erica—Eriqueta—you are now the one and only beautiful word in my repertoire.”
“So, what about your cell phone?” she queried with a raised brow. “Have you changed your voice message since turning over this new leaf?”
“Hear for yourself.” Reaching over for his pants at the side of the bed, Gianni found his cell phone in a side pocket and punched in the appropriate code. Next, he handed it to Erica. As she listened, a smile of satisfaction began to form. Instead of the thoroughly disgusting, “Hey baby, you’ve reached lover boy,” his message now related the most benign of information. “Hello, you’ve reached Gianni Sloan, investment broker. I’m not able to take your call right now, so if you’ll leave your name and number—”
“Well?” His eyes remained bright with expectation.
She gave him an impish grin. “Do you like cats?”
“Sure. I like cats, dogs, and animals in general.”
“Good. You should like Tepeyol, because he comes with me.”
“Tepe…who, what?”
“Tepeyol, or Tepe, as I call him. My big, cuddly tomcat. He’s named after the Aztec god of jaguars.”
He emitted a low, throaty chuckle. “Barring any claws and fangs, I have a feeling Tepe and I will get along just fine, Aztec jaguar or not. He can be your big, cuddly tomcat and I’ll be your big, cuddly oso de juguete.”
“Okay, teddy bear,” she tempered with her own little laugh. “As long as you don’t come with any more claws or fangs, or other women’s phone numbers and nude photos, then I think we’ll get along just fine.”
Despite the fact her head still swam in the clouds with the aftermath of such a miraculous coupling, Erica felt a deep, grounded, abiding pang of reality. Gianni loved and wanted her just as desperately and completely as she loved and wanted him. “So, without further ado, I’ll give you my answer: Sí, mi amor, yo quiero casarte. Yes, I’ll marry you!”
Chapter Sixteen
The Fernandez brothers—Manny, Moe, Juan and Gabe, the mariachi quartet who once serenaded Erica—readily agreed to share the stage with the Cuban marimba and salsa band hired for the reception. For this wedding, the special events staff at Las Palmas Hotel generously decorated the large patio with twinkling lights. papier-mâché parrots, little wooden guitars and lots and lots of bright, tissue-paper flowers.
The mother of the bride wore a pink floral gown while the bridesmaids—Maritza and Tai—looked terrific in amethyst cocktail dresses. Of course, the bride outshone them all in her strapless cream satin, the fabric draped beautifully to highlight her natural curves, her lovely shoulders and the special glow of her skin. Erica had the dress hemmed to her knees so she had plenty of room to kick up her heels as the night progressed, a beautiful sultry night filled with the promise of magic and ro
mance.
When the musicians began a light salsa dance, she went in search of her new husband. Erica found Gianni laughing and talking with both sets of parents, his brother Adrian, and her Aunt Yolanda and brothers Esteban and Gabriel. In his white suit and pale melon shirt, the groom had to be the most attractive and striking man at the party. Only Sacha in his lime-striped pants and raspberry pullover trumped everyone else as the most colorful. As soon as he spotted her, Gianni quickly excused himself and came to her side, his smile both dazzling and enigmatic as if he harbored a tantalizing secret he planned to share with his new bride later.
Now Adrian Sloan stepped up on stage and grabbed the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen! ¡Damas y caballeros!” Like his brother, he wore white linen slacks but had added a pale blue guyabera shirt, its color accentuating his attractive features and dark hair. He flashed the newlyweds a look of pride and joy. “I give you the happy couple, el matrimonio feliz—Señor y Señora Giancarlo Sloan! ¡Salud!”
A round of applause greeted the new couple as they took over the dance floor. The band immediately began a rousing Latin tango.
“Are you having a good time, mi amante?” Gianni asked as he brought his new bride into his arms.
Erica laughed. “What do you think?”
“That you’re having a terrific time.” He placed his cheek along hers, and the feel of his warm, smooth skin caused erotic ripples to course through her body.
She wanted to melt against him, into him, but her eagerness to finally get her husband alone became tempered by their obligation to the guests. First things first, and that meant a dance or two, the cutting of the three-tiered, tres leches wedding cake, and the toss of the bridal bouquet made of lavender, pink and cream Lisianthus blooms. Their second trip to the hotel suite would be legitimate this time; and tomorrow the happy couple planned to fly to Rio de Janeiro, the city of non-stop Brazilian carnival fun.
As if on the same wave length, Gianni slid his hand down his wife’s body and reached under her dress to find her blue garter. He gave it a playful snap.
“You better stop that,” Erica chided lightly, “or I’m liable to ravish you right here on the dance floor.”
“Oh yeah?” He grinned with mischievous intent. “Sounds as kinky as your decorating skills.”
“That is now a moot point,” she emphasized.
Sacha and his friends had been all to eager to take her client’s unwanted carnal treasures, and Erica had worked doubly hard to restore Gianni’s apartment along her original lines, including the beautiful paintings from the real Sloan artist, Adrian. In one of his generous moods, Sacha had given “Penis de Milo” as his wedding present to the couple, but Erica wisely placed it in the back of the bedroom closet, only to allow the sculpture to see the light of day when she and Gianni felt in a nostalgic—or kinky—mood.
For now the newlyweds planned to live at his place, along with Tepeyol, until they found a house. In the meantime, Maritza had moved into her sister’s apartment after Erica made sure to reroute the heating ducts with mutual privacy in mind. Travis had long since fallen out of Mari’s favor, only to be replaced by another hunky blond by the sobriquet of Brock.
As for her job, well, Erica hoped one day to bring Elegante Interiors to fruition, but for now, she remained perfectly content to stay with the Prestige group, especially after Craig had quietly reserved judgment concerning her decorating frenzy with the reformed bachelor’s pad.
The immediate future remained the couple’s own—of laughter, of joy and of celebration—with always the promise of good times ahead. Ready to party, Erica kicked off one and then the other white satin heel. She had limited herself to one glass of champagne earlier, and now felt wonderful, revitalized, and ready to soar. Glancing at the crowd around them, she spotted the elder Sloans, her parents and two youngest sisters Selena and Vianney, as well as Rosina, Sacha, Tai, Craig and his spouse, and Victor and his wife.
“Hum.” She nuzzled her new husband’s cheek and inhaled his wonderful smell of tropical cologne and crisp linen. “I have something to tell you, but I’m saving it for the honeymoon.”
Tilting back his head, Gianni gave her curious look from beneath his dusky eyelids. “Oh, oh! What is it? You’re really a man in disguise? An escaped felon? Or do you actually have a twin sister named Elodia whom you keep locked in the attic because she’s muy cachanda, more so than you are, my darling?” He grinned. “Now remember, we vowed to tell the truth!”
“Elodia?” Erica giggled. “My, what an imagination you have, my dear, although, I think one horny woman in your life is quite enough now! No, it’s nothing as drastic as all that, but I will divulge the truth soon enough…honest!”
She hadn’t told him yet about the anti-love spells, the ridiculous ingredients and those silly incantations that cost her two hundred bucks. Money aside, she remained exceedingly glad that the spells hadn’t worked after all. “But I do want to save it until we share piña coladas naked on the beach.”
“Yum! That sounds just too tempting—our naked bodies that is, not the naked coladas.”
“I’ll take you naked any which way I can,” Erica professed. “Now shall we engage in some down and dirty dancing?” The flush on her face indicated her over-the-top excitement, while her body sizzled in anticipation of the physical delights that awaited them.
He pulled her close and swept his lips along hers for a quick kiss. “Querida, for you, I’m always up to the challenge.”
The End
Author Bio
Deborah Merrell is the author of several erotic romance ebooks, including Miami Spice for Smashwords. Under her pen name of Marva Dale, she has authored her first mystery novel, Death of a Flapper, for her Death by the Decade series, available through Oak Tree Press, Amazon Books and Barnes & Noble. In addition, her historical romance, Far From Eden: New World, is the first in a series of novels about the Traynor Family in Colonial America. For more information, visit her websites at www.marvadale.webnode.com and www.farfromeden.webnode.com.
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