“Well, I’ve already seen Siena, so I thought maybe we could head to San Gimignano and then Pisa.”
Chiara smiles at me, her eyes twinkling. “Who can resist the charm of Val d’Orcia, right?”
I laugh. “That tagline was actually in a tour brochure.”
“I bet. Did it go something like this? ‘Who can resist the charm of Val d’Orcia, where locals and tourists stop every day to take a billion photos? The full-day tour will introduce to you not only the towns of X, Y, and Z but also the wine and local flavors,’” she says, going heavy on the Italian accent.
“You’re cute.”
Her delicate eyebrows scrunch together at the same time as she pouts. “I’m not cute.”
“Right. You’re not cute. You’re sexy as hell.”
Her bright blue eyes widen a fraction. “Do you really think so?”
Does she not know the effect she has on me? My cock is at full mast now, straining against my jeans. Fuck me. We need to get out of here fast before I have Chiara on her back again with my cock plunged deep inside her sweet pussy.
“God, yes. I would show you, but we really have to go. Are you ready?” My voice comes out strained.
With a smirk, she drinks the last sips of her coffee before wiping her mouth with the napkin.
“Yup.”
When she stands up, my attention diverts to her party dress. Guilt sneaks up on me. “We could stop by your grandparents’ villa for you to change clothes.”
Chiara’s expression immediately turns dark. “No. It’s out of the way. The dress is fine. I wouldn’t mind buying ballerina flats though. These Gucci shoes aren’t the best for a touristic outing.”
She eyes the high-heeled footwear, and I wince in sympathy. They look like a torture device.
Chiara found more comfortable shoes at a small boutique in the hotel. I paid for them, despite her protests, but I wouldn’t back down on that.
“Doesn’t your cousin need his car back?” I ask her once we’re inside the vehicle.
“Nah. I bet he’ll be nursing a hangover by the pool the whole day. Besides, there are plenty of cars he can borrow if he needs to go somewhere.”
Chiara insists we don’t need the GPS since she knows the area well, so I gladly let her be my guide. Her sexy voice is much better anyway. Instead of leading me toward the most direct path to our first destination, she takes me on a scenic drive through the hills of the Tuscan countryside.
We stop by one of the many Chianti vineyards first, where we take a stroll among grapevines, olive groves, and wine cellars before partaking in a traditional Tuscan lunch, which consists of more cured meats and delicious bread. When asked where we wanted to sit, there was no question about outside, despite the high temperature. How could we deprive ourselves of the breathtaking view of the Sienese hills? I honestly could stay here forever, but not because of the scenery or the food. The company is everything. I’ve caught myself staring at Chiara several times when she was distracted, and every single time, there’s been a sharp twist in my chest.
I’m a grown man. I shouldn’t be feeling whatever the hell I’m feeling, but fuck if I’m not getting drunk on this euphoria.
We head to San Gimignano next, where we roam the maze of cobbled streets and small squares. Chiara insists we grab a gelato before we walk between San Gimignano’s famous fourteen towers.
The final stop is Pisa, and I go full-on tourist mode there, taking several pictures while pretending to be holding the leaning tower.
The day goes by too fast, and when we’re on our way back to Siena, I can’t help but feel a little glum. I turn to Chiara, finding her staring out the window.
“Did you have fun today?” I ask.
She glances at me and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, loads. I’ll remember this day forever.”
“Me too.” I reach for her hand, bringing it to my lips to kiss the back of it. “Spend the evening with me in Florence.”
“What?” Her big doe eyes turn as round as saucers.
“My flight doesn’t leave until the afternoon. I can bring you back in the morning.”
She blinks a couple of times before she shakes her head. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
Chiara’s doubtful tone almost makes me stop the car so I can show her how much I want to spend another evening with her. This has nothing to do with the amazing sex. I don’t want to say goodbye just yet. I’m not ready.
“Yes it is. You don’t want to? You won’t hurt my feelings if you say no.”
Bullshit.
Her breathing seems to stop. She bites her lower lip, really making me want to pull the car over.
“Okay. Why not? I love Florence.”
Fuck yeah. I can’t help the smile that appears on my face. My heart is going a hundred miles an hour. I feel like a fucking teenager who just asked the girl of his dreams out and she said yes.
I wish I was younger and didn’t have this rotten crap fucking up my life. I’m not even officially divorced yet, and at the rate things are going, it will be a long and nasty process. I can’t bring Chiara into that mess. Shit, if it weren’t for that, I would say to hell with rule number two and beg to know everything about her. But that’s not the case, and wishful thinking is just a waste of time.
After returning to the hotel in Siena to collect my stuff, I ask Chiara what we should do about Max’s car.
“He won’t mind if we borrow it for another night. Besides, I need a car to get back to the villa.”
I’m not crazy about this arrangement. I hate taking advantage of anyone, so I ask Chiara to call her cousin regardless. She does so with a roll of her eyes, putting the conversation on speaker so I can hear the answer from the horse’s mouth.
“Yeah, man. It’s cool to keep the car for another day. It gives me the perfect excuse to borrow my uncle’s Ferrari,” Max says.
Chiara gives me a haughty look that says “I told you so” before taking the call off speaker mode and walking away to continue her conversation in private.
I watch her for a few seconds, noticing how tense she becomes. She keeps her voice low, even though I wouldn’t understand what she’s saying anyway. A couple of minutes later, she rejoins me, but the smile on her face is forced.
“Is everything okay?”
“As okay as it can be when my mother is involved. But let’s not talk about her. That would break rule number one, anyway.”
I reach out, pulling her into my arms to kiss the crook of her neck. When she melts against my chest, a sense of protectiveness takes hold of me. I wrap my arms around her body tightly, and I can’t help thinking how right this moment feels.
Chiara pulls away first and stares into my eyes.
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.”
The drive to Florence takes roughly one hour. When I pull in front of the centuries-old Antica Torre di via Tornabuoni hotel, I’m glad I decided to splurge. Besides comfort and a convenient location, it’s as romantic as it gets—not that I was thinking about that when I made the reservation.
“Mamma mia,” Chiara says before looking down at her clothes. “You know, as much as I love this dress, I think I’m ready for a change of outfit.”
“Ah, Goldilocks, we should have stopped by the villa so you could grab your stuff.”
“Are you crazy? That would have meant dealing with my mother sooner than I intended. I’m going to check out the stores nearby.” She gets out of the car.
“Hey, I’ll come with you,” I say, following suit.
“You want to come shopping with me?” The question comes with an eyebrow raise.
“What? Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes.” She laughs, a sound so rich, it’s infectious.
I break the distance between us, looping my arm around her waist and stopping inches from her face to run my thumb over her lips. “Okay, I won’t enjoy it. Maybe I’m just afraid you’ll take off and not come back.”
“You’re afraid I’m going to bail on you?” Her voice comes out as a breathless whisper.
“Yes, I am.” I rub my lips against hers, dying for another taste.
She puts her hands on my chest, pushing me back. There’s a deep V between her eyebrows, marring her lovely face. “The last thing I want to do is run away from you… unless we’re role-playing. I’m Little Red Riding Hood and you’re the Big Bad Wolf chasing me.” Her lips twist into a grin.
“So, first you call me a bear, and now you want me to play the wolf? What’s up with your obsession with wild animals?”
“I’m not obsessed!” She hits me playfully on the chest. “And first of all, I didn’t call you a bear. I said you were a cuddly bear. Very different. But it was a bad a nickname. The Big Bad Wolf fits you better. Or maybe big bear.”
“Gee, thanks?” I laugh. “Let me bring the bags to our room.” I tug her hand, but she plants her feet on the ground.
“Uh-uh. I’m not coming upstairs with you. We might not leave the room, and frankly, I’m starving. I’ll ask the concierge to make us dinner reservations.”
“You’d better be here when I come back.”
She steps away from me with a wicked smile on her lips. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll find another hopeless tourist who needs my assistance.”
I take a step forward while a guttural sound comes from the back of my throat.
“Easy there, big bear. I was just teasing.” She spins around and swishes away into the hotel.
This girl has me ensnared, hook, line, and sinker. I follow her, not liking one bit the way the men in the hotel’s lobby twist their necks to watch her walk by. I increase my steps and throw my arm around her shoulders, kissing her soundly on her cheek, marking my territory even though she’s not mine.
She laughs at my enthusiasm, turning her face to mine and kissing me deeply. Dropping my duffel bag to the floor, I hold her closer and fuck her mouth with my tongue. I don’t know how long we stay glued like two horny teenagers in the middle of the five-star hotel lobby. One thing is certain, I would have kissed Chiara longer if she hadn’t pulled away first. She stares at me with swollen lips and hooded eyes, and I want to throw her over my shoulder and bring her to our room. I’m about to explode in my pants.
Shit, this girl turns me on like no one else.
“Me, dinner reservation. You, get us checked in.” She steps out of my embrace, almost running toward the concierge desk.
I watch her leave like a lovesick puppy, wondering when the hell lust turned into something more.
When I return to the hotel lobby ten minutes later—I had to take care of my raging boner first—I find Chiara waiting for me and wearing a new dress. She stands up as soon as she sees me, and I track the length of her body, taking her in. The simple black dress she’s wearing wraps around her like a glove, accentuating every single edge and curve, leaving me breathless.
“Do you like it?”
“I thought you were going to wait for me to go shopping.”
“I was bored.” She shrugs.
I step into her personal space and kiss her softly, whispering against her mouth, “I love it.” Before I get carried away again, I step back. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
We skip the big tourist restaurants and go to a quaint side street mom-and-pop establishment so small, it only has four tables inside.
“This is the smallest restaurant I’ve ever been to,” I say.
“It’s one of the best restaurants in Florence and almost impossible to get reservations last minute. We got lucky.”
Chiara orders aperitivo for each of us, which consists of a glass of prosecco accompanied by three small snacks. She hasn’t led me astray so far. I trust her choices. Plus, I love seeing the confidence in her. It beguiles me.
“Do you have any plans for the rest of the summer?” I ask casually.
“Uh, yeah. Stay the hell away from my family.” She laughs and shakes her head. “Actually, I’m going to Ibiza with a couple of friends next month.”
“I heard it’s a beautiful island.”
“Yes, but we’re mostly hitting the clubs,” she replies, distracted as she nibbles on her snack while a spike of jealousy pierces my chest. Clubs mean other guys. Meat markets.
I finish drinking the prosecco and signal for the waiter to bring me another one. I would prefer something much stronger, but I don’t think they have whiskey here.
“How about you?” she asks.
“Nothing as exciting.”
Chiara furrows her eyebrows, and I realize my answer came across a bit standoffish.
I reach across the table and curl my fingers around her hand. “This has been one of the best weekends I’ve had in a long time. I’m glad the rental company screwed up.”
She drops her gaze and stares at our joined hands for a couple of beats in silence. When she finally looks up, I notice her eyes are brighter than before while her lips pull into a tight smile.
“This has been a great weekend for me too. I’m sad it’s almost over.”
“We still have tonight.”
Chiara raises her glass. “To tonight.”
10
Chiara
I’ve gone and done it. I have fallen in love with Alistair in less than twenty-four hours. That must be a world record. And the worst part is I don’t know anything about him, so the swirling feeling inside my chest defies logic.
After we dive into a delicious homemade lasagna, we stroll back to our hotel along the river that flows through the heart of Florence, stopping to perch on the wall of one of the bridges along with locals to watch the sun go down. This all feels like a dream, but I know eventually I’ll have to wake up.
The room he got is more opulent than I could have imagined, and it makes me wonder what he does for a living to be able to afford such luxury. It doesn’t really matter to me though. I can testify that money means nothing, and it most certainly can’t buy anyone happiness. You just have to look closely at my miserable family to see that.
I sit on the edge of the bed, and suddenly I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid if he pays attention, he’ll read the yearning in my eyes.
Alistair stops a little away from me, and he seems as unsure as I am. Does he also feel the shift in the air?
Impossible.
The hunger in his gaze is undeniable, and my body reacts accordingly. My heart is drumming so loudly inside my chest, it seems it wants to take flight. Heat pools between my legs just from thinking about what’s to come.
Slowly, Alistair unbuttons his shirt without taking his eyes off me. The jeans go next. I remain frozen. Watching him strip is damn sexy and a little frightening too. I feel so out of my depth.
I swallow hard when he stands in front of me in all his naked glory. He’s Adonis personified. His abs look Photoshopped. I know they aren’t though. I’ve felt the hard ridges of his muscles under my fingers; I’ve tasted their raw power.
Slowly, Alistair crosses the room, dropping to his knees in front of me. Placing his warm hands on my thighs, he makes lazy circles over my skin with his fingertips. I forget how to breathe.
“Chiara,” he says almost reverently before he pushes my dress up my legs, the fabric bunching up around my waist.
When his face gets closer to my pussy and his warm breath fans over the sensitive skin, I almost climax right then and there. Without removing my underwear, he rubs his nose over my clit, the friction too good to describe. I thread my fingers through his hair, grabbing at the strands.
“Alistair….”
“What, Goldilocks?”
“If you keep at it, I’m going to come.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” He darts his tongue out, sweeping over my nub in one languid stroke.
A whimper escapes my lips, and Alistair laughs.
“I love the sounds you make.”
I know he didn’t mean anything by it, but I still tense up upon hearin
g the word “love.” Alistair must have sensed it because he stops to look at me.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
Not wanting him to see the angst in my eyes, I pull the dress over my head, tossing it to the side before getting rid of the bra. My plan works, and his gaze quickly drops to my chest. Like a kid presented with a buffet of candy, he reaches out to the girls with eager hands, kneading them before playing with my tight nipples. He pushes my body gently onto the massive bed and leans over me, bringing one nipple to his hot mouth while his hand plays with the other.
I don’t know how long he spends lavishing my breasts with attention, but when he finally brings his face level to mine, I’m so close to the edge, one simple nudge will be enough to send me spiraling over.
He must have read the raw need in my gaze because he quickly jumps off the bed to retrieve a condom from the box on the nightstand. I’ve never seen a guy put protection on so fast in my life. Before I know it, Alistair is back between my legs. He brings one of them over his shoulder, rubbing the head of his cock against my entrance.
“Just a warning, Goldi. I might not be gentle,” he says gruffly.
“Good. Don’t.”
He enters me with a swift move, and I get lost in oblivion.
Alistair and I have sex three times before he collapses next to me, dead to the world. I, on the other hand, can’t fall asleep at all and decide to get out of bed just before sunrise. I pick up my clothes and put them on as quietly as I can, not wanting to wake him.
Once fully dressed, I take a moment to stare at Alistair’s sleeping form, committing every detail of his body to memory—the wide shoulders corded with muscles and the sexy ass that I made sure to scratch a little last night. But most importantly, I pay close attention to his face, partially hidden in the manner he’s sleeping, on his belly with one arm folded under his pillow. His expression is peaceful and vulnerable at the same time.
It’s hard not to caress his cheek, not to place a farewell kiss on his lips. But I can’t risk waking him up. I refuse to stay to say goodbye because I’m afraid if I do, I’ll beg him for more. It wasn’t part of the agreement. The rules don’t seem that important now, but I can’t get past the fear that he’ll reject me if I break them. So I won’t.
Blurry: A Student Teacher, Age Gap Romance Page 6