“Starting the party early?” I eye the Chianti in her hand.
Chiara cradles the dark bottle with both hands and stares at it, almost absentmindedly. “Yes. We love our wine.”
She sits on the edge of the bed, curling her smooth legs under her. I swallow hard as my cock twitches inside my boxer shorts. Fuck. I’m so screwed.
She seems oblivious to what she’s doing to me when she raises her lovely blue eyes to mine. They’re a little red. Has she been crying?
“I’m sorry my mother was rude to you. She’s stressed with the wedding.”
I know bullshit when I hear it. I’ve never seen a woman look at her daughter with so much venom in her gaze.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Narrowing my eyes, I notice redness around Chiara’s chin. Fuck. Are those nail marks?
She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, and the movement draws my attention to her forearm. There’s an angry mark there too, as if someone grabbed her by force. Sudden anger unfurls in the pit of my stomach, making me see red.
“Did she do that to you?” I grit out.
Chiara’s face turns ashen before she glances down, curling her fingers tighter around the bottle of wine. “This is nothing.”
I clench my jaw hard as I fight the urge to seek out her mother and give her a piece of my mind. I don’t know where this overwhelming need to protect Chiara is coming from. I just met her, but something about the petite blonde has managed to rekindle a fire in my heart that I thought had gone out forever.
Shit. I must be losing my mind.
Chiara notices I’m still staring and clears her throat. “I should go. You probably want some privacy.”
“You can stay. I don’t mind.” My voice is thick, and I don’t know if it’s because of anger or desire. Probably a mix of both.
Chiara looks down at the bottle in her hand and frowns. “Cazzo! I forgot to bring the bottle opener. What a rookie mistake.”
While she’s distracted, I reach for the pair of slacks Max lent me and put them on quickly. They’re an inch too short, but they fit nicely around my waist. Standing there wearing almost nothing was unnerving me.
“I’m sure there’s one here though,” Chiara says to herself before jumping from the bed to search the room. She opens drawers and cabinets, completely ignoring me.
While she’s on her mission, I finish getting dressed. I’m in the process of fastening the last button of my shirt when she pivots on the spot, brandishing a small object in her hand: a corkscrew.
“Aha!” Victory is etched on her face, and I catch a glimpse of a much happier woman. It mollifies the anger from before.
She proceeds to open the bottle, and I watch her as if I’m in a daze. I’ve met my fair share of beautiful women before—God, I was married to one for four years—but none of them captured me in this foreign way. I can’t make sense of it.
What kind of bullshit am I thinking now? If I’d been drinking, I would attribute my idiotic thoughts to alcohol. But I’m stone-cold sober.
Chiara finally opens the bottle with a pop, throwing the opener with the cork still stuck to the screw onto the bed before bringing the rim to her lips and taking large gulps from it. Before she can drown in red wine, I reach her in a couple of long strides and pull the bottle away from her.
“Whoa, easy there.”
She stares at me wide-eyed before she bursts into giggles.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” She giggles again before she wipes her lips with the back of her hand. It’s such an unappealing move, but she somehow makes it look sexy. My rock-hard cock agrees.
A knock on the door saves me from doing something very stupid, like pushing Chiara against the wall and kissing the hell out of her. No matter how tempting the idea is, I can’t let myself go there. It’s clear that she’s going through some rough shit, and I refuse to be the asshole who takes advantage of that.
“Come in,” I say.
The door opens a fraction, and Max’s head pops through the crack.
“Rea—Chiara, what are you doing here?”
“I didn’t come looking for him, if that’s what you were thinking.” She turns to glare at her cousin.
Max doesn’t seem happy with her answer by the way his eyebrows furrow together. “Sure you didn’t. Hey, I’m all for sticking it to your mom, but don’t you think bringing a complete stranger to her favorite niece’s wedding party was a bit much?” He glances in my direction and adds, “No offense, dude.”
“None taken. For the record, I usually don’t accept random invitations from strangers. I was on my way to the Winery Della Vecchia, and Chiara mentioned the owners would be here.”
“Ah, so you don’t want to sleep with my cousin?”
Max raises an eyebrow at me, putting me in a very tough spot. I wasn’t expecting him to be so fucking blunt. It’s almost like I’m dealing with my lawyer, Enzo. It must be an Italian thing. Most of the people I know would wait until Chiara left the room to ask me that question.
Like an idiot, I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind. “Good Lord, no.”
Chiara winces as if I slapped her, making me regret my careless outburst. It sounded like I’m repulsed by her, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Ouch. That was a solid burn, man,” Max says.
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not that I don’t find you attractive, Chiara. I—”
She raises her hand, speaking over me. “You don’t need to apologize. Enjoy the party.”
Pivoting on the spot, she shoves Max out of the way so she can escape the room.
“You really did put your foot in your mouth, didn’t you?” He smirks.
I run a hand through my hair, frustrated with my inability to salvage the situation before Chiara left.
“How mad is she at me right now?”
Max shrugs. “I don’t think mad is the right word. Her ego is probably bruised purple now. Our cousin Paola is marrying the guy Chiara has been in love with for years and—ah, cazzo. I shouldn’t have told you that. Chiara will kill me if she finds out.”
A spike of jealousy spears my chest, which is completely absurd. I rub my face, feeling worse than I did before.
“It wasn’t my intention to make her feel bad. I’m not blind. Chiara is gorgeous, but I didn’t accept her invitation thinking I would get some in the end.”
Max scoffs. “Right. I’ll pretend I believe you. Chiara is an adult, and I’m her cousin, not her keeper. She could use a distraction today, and if that’s you, I don’t care.”
5
Chiara
I must have done something terrible in my previous life, and the universe has decided to make me pay for all my sins today. I don’t think my poor heart can take another rejection before I become a blubbering mess. The way Alistair answered Max’s out-of-line question left me reeling. He sounded so appalled by the mere idea of sleeping with me that it felt like a punch to my gut.
Tell me how you really feel, why don’t you?
I can’t go back to the party outside, so I head to the second floor, hoping not to bump into anyone. My cousin and her bridesmaids are still enclosed in the main suite, waiting for the signal to head down. I veer in the opposite direction, going to Grandpa’s office instead, the only place in this house where I feel relatively safe. It was my hiding spot when I was younger and my cousins were being extra mean to me. I was the youngest and the easiest target for their wicked games. Maybe if I didn’t take every insult they aimed at me to heart, they wouldn’t pick on me so much. I guess the old saying is right: if you stand for nothing, you fall for everything.
The office is mercifully empty—I can’t believe I didn’t think of coming here before. I let out a sigh of relief as I close the heavy door behind me.
After taking a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm my nerves, I walk to the window and watch the party downstairs for a few minutes. I spot my mother asking gues
ts to take their seats, which means the ceremony is about to start. I have no plans to move from my spot. I’ll stay right here. I don’t care if there will be hell to pay later, or that I’m leaving Alistair alone down there to deal with the wolves by himself. I’m beyond the point of caring.
What a fool I was to indulge in fantasies about the man. I’m not unattractive, but the guy is sex on a stick, an Adonis among men, and way out of my league. He would never go for such a silly girl like me.
What am I doing? I promised myself not to allow those low self-esteem thoughts to enter my head anymore. Maybe Alistair was feeling disarmed and thought it would be disrespectful to tell Max he wanted to bang me.
I’m lost in my thoughts when the door opens. There goes my privacy. Turning around, I find Pietro standing at the entrance. Oh fuck. What now?
“Shouldn’t you be downstairs already, waiting for your blushing bride to walk down the aisle?” I can’t help my sarcastic tone.
Pietro closes the door behind him with a resounding click, making me swallow hard. What is he doing? My heart kicks up a notch, not from excitement, but from apprehension.
“I don’t think I can go on with the ceremony until we finish the conversation we started earlier.”
My heart lodges in my throat. “What?”
“I need to know something, Chiara.” He stalks my way, and I feel like prey all of a sudden. I don’t like the strange look in his gaze.
“We have nothing to talk about, Pietro.” I try to sidestep him, but he blocks my way, grabbing my wrist.
“That’s bullshit, Chiara. Why did you bolt out of that bathroom when I confessed I had a crush on you during high school?” He watches me with a fire in his gaze I’ve never seen before.
“You made me uncomfortable. You’re about to marry my cousin, after all.”
“Is that all?” His voice is strained, as if he’s fighting some inner turmoil. “How come I have the feeling you’re lying?”
“I’m not lying. Why does it matter anyway?”
“I need to know if you felt the same way about me. Otherwise I’ll go insane.” The confession comes out of his mouth as if it pains him to say it.
Too fucking late.
I pull my arm from his grasp. “Are you kidding me right now? You need to know? Why? Is your ego already in need of a boost?”
“No. You don’t understand—”
“It doesn’t matter if I did or not, Pietro,” I cut him off. “Time has passed, and like you said, you’ve moved on, and you’re about to marry my cousin.”
“You’re wrong. So very wrong, Chiara.”
He moves closer again, wrapping his arm around my waist and bringing me flush against his body. I’ve lost count of how many times I dreamed about this moment, but in none of my fantasies was disgust present, and that’s the overwhelming emotion jamming in my heart right now. I don’t melt into his embrace; I feel repulsion instead. He’s about to marry my cousin and he’s coming on to me? But I’m frozen on the spot as he caresses my cheek.
“What are you doing, Pietro?” My voice is feeble; it’s vapor.
“I want to know, Chiara.”
He brings his lips to mine, almost too forcibly. I squirm against his hold, fighting to get him off me.
“Stop!” I finally manage to shove him off, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? You are minutes away from marrying another woman, you asshole!”
“A woman who was a second choice,” he replies weakly, and I want to punch him in the throat.
Sudden fury bursts through my veins. “If you liked me so much when we were younger, you should have made your move. You choked, and now it’s too late. You’ve made your choice. And to answer your question, yes, I did have a crush on you back then, but I would never get involved with you now. Do you seriously believe I would have my cousin’s sloppy seconds?”
Pietro winces as his face turns ashen. I take that opportunity to dash out of the room, only to hit Alistair smack in his chest. He grabs my forearms, stopping me from falling on my ass.
“Whoa, easy there.” He takes a good look at my face, probably noticing I’m about to crumble. “Do you wanna get out of here?” he asks.
With trembling lips, I say, “Yes, please. Take me away.”
I forgo the Vespa this time and borrow Max’s car instead, letting Alistair drive. I can always count on my cousin to leave the spare key inside. I’ve had too much wine, and even if that wasn’t the case, I’m in no condition to drive. My mind keeps going back to the scene in Grandpa’s office. Did Pietro really kiss me? The notion is almost too far fetched to be believable. But I’m not losing my mind. He did assault me after he confessed Paola was his second choice.
I get angry all over again as my hands ball into fists on my lap. Does he think saying he’s marrying my cousin even though I was his first choice makes his decision better? Ugh, I can’t believe I wasted years of my life pining for him. I thought he was different than the other guys. I thought he had honor. I guess I didn’t know him that well, or maybe I was just projecting what I wanted to see.
Alistair hasn’t spoken much since we left the villa, but when he covers my fist with his warm hand, some of my anger dilutes a bit. I stare at our joined hands for a couple of beats before I raise my gaze to his face. He’s still looking straight ahead at the road, but he does glance at me briefly with a smile that says “I’m here for you.”
My heart beats faster. The anger dissipates completely to be replaced by a deep yearning. It’s crazy how at ease I feel in Alistair’s presence, even after his careless words hurt me more than they should have.
He continues to drive in silence through the charming countryside of the Chianti region, a magical landscape of cypress trees, vineyards, and olive groves that fails to impress me today. The picture-perfect scenery pales in comparison to the man sitting next to me.
I’ve gone back to fantasizing about him, to wanting his mouth everywhere on my body. I rub my legs together, trying to get rid of the sudden ache between them. Shit. I shouldn’t have let my mind go there, not after Alistair made it crystal clear he has no intention of sleeping with me.
He takes me to Monteriggioni, a completely walled medieval town sitting on a small natural hill. It was built in the thirteenth century by the overlords of Siena, and it attracts tourists galore in the summer. I’ve been here just once as a young child and remember being enchanted by the medieval castle.
After he parks, I turn to him. “Why did you bring me here?”
“I planned to stop here on my way back from the winery visit. I figured you wouldn’t mind accompanying me.”
“Ah, cazzo. You didn’t have the chance to meet the Della Vecchias, did you?”
“No, but it’s okay. It wasn’t a wasted trip.”
I don’t know what to make of his statement. Is he saying it wasn’t a wasted trip because he met me?
“Thank you for saving me.”
He frowns. “What happened back there? You left that room like you were running away from a ghost.”
I sink against the leather seat and face forward. “I guess I was.”
“Your cousin’s fiancé?”
I whip around to face Alistair. “How did you—Ugh, never mind. Max opened his big mouth, didn’t he?”
“He did mention something by accident.”
I stare ahead again. “I can’t believe I’ve wasted years of my life idolizing Pietro. He’s just like the other guys. A big disappointment.”
“We’re not all bad.”
Glancing at Alistair again, I find him staring at me with the most enigmatic glint in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I haven’t had the best luck with guys. I guess the problem isn’t gender specific. People are just assholes as a rule.”
“I can agree with that.”
He touches my arm and gives me a crooked smile that almost makes me melt like a popsicle under the sun. My heart gallops at a thousand miles an h
our as I prepare to make a complete fool of myself. I unbuckle my seat belt, but instead of opening the door, I launch myself at him, attacking his mouth like a deranged woman. There’s only a moment of hesitation on Alistair’s part before he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me all the way across until I’m straddling his lap.
His tongue darts inside my mouth, taking complete control as he digs his fingers into my hips. In this position, my throbbing core rubs against his slacks, or better yet, his rock-hard erection. I’ve never kissed a guy with scruff before, and at first, it tickles. But soon I get used to it because what he’s doing with his tongue is already short-circuiting my brain.
I grind my pelvis against his, trying to increase the friction down below, and I end up eliciting a grunt from him. I pull away slightly to capture his lower lip between my teeth. He groans before his hands leave my hips to disappear under the skirt of my dress. His deft fingers slowly travel up my legs until they curl around the sides of my panties.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
I close my eyes and hum an affirmation. He kisses me again, slower this time. With a featherlight touch, he traces the edge of my underwear, getting closer and closer to where I so desperately need his fingers to be. He cups my pussy with his palm, and I swear to God, I almost come right then and there. I lock my hands together behind his neck and try to bring my body even closer to his. Alistair rubs my core with his palm first before he pushes my panties aside to brush his thumb against my clit.
“Oh my God. Yes.”
He chuckles against my mouth before he slides one finger down my entrance and teases the spot. “You’re so fucking wet already, Chiara.”
I rotate my hips, trying to impale myself on his finger. I won’t sit quietly here while he tortures me.
He removes his other hand from under my dress to let it travel up my side. When his fingers brush the underside of my breast, I moan against his lips again. He deepens the kiss, cupping my breast with his large hand. Even so, my girl can’t quite fit inside his palm. He squeezes it slightly through the fabric of the dress at the same time as he inserts two fingers inside me. It’s just too much stimulation going on all at once, and I can’t fight the wave of pleasure that rushes over me. If it weren’t for his mouth on mine, I would have screamed at the top of my lungs.
Blurry: A Student Teacher, Age Gap Romance Page 3