“Stupid?” Honey says, perking up. “How could you hate any kind of a party? I mean, the rest of it sounds perfectly odious, but a gala? One where you have to dress up? That should at least make up for it.”
I exhale an ironic laugh. Why am I not surprised she’d find something optimistic in everything I’ve revealed.
To me, the gala is pure torture. Forced smiles and equally forced conversation. The only things worthwhile are the quality food, open bar, and the ambiance. ABC usually holds it someplace high class.
This year it’s at the Plaza Hotel.
My mind races back to Honey’s party, her in that spectacular dress. I’m sure she’d fit in perfectly, working her magic to win over even the most discriminating soul. She’d be perfect.
She is perfect.
“Would you like to go as my date? It’s next Saturday.”
“To make Emily jealous,” she confirms.
“No,” I say instantly, causing her eyes to widen. “I mean, yes, she’ll be there. But…no. I want you to come. As my date. Period.”
A slow, hesitant smile comes to her face. “I’d love to.”
The sense of relief I feel is troubling.
Am I asking because of Emily?
No, I really do want Honey there with me. Just because.
This moonshine is doing a number on me. I frown down into the glass.
Honey misinterprets it.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to paint you in the most perfect light.” She leans in with a sly smile. “I know a thing or two about snobs. They all have their soft underbellies. And I’m just the kind of feather to leave them tickled.”
The way she uses words, parts of me are certainly tickled.
“You really are a doll,” I say in wonder.
“I’ll assume that’s Jersey boy speak for sweetheart,” she says, smiling over her drink as she takes a sip.
I continue to stare at her long enough to make her swallow that sip the hard way.
She lifts her glass to me and levels her gaze, reclaiming her composure. “Here’s to the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Giuseppe.”
That’s when it officially kicks in for my idiot, moonshine influenced head.
“I don’t want to be just friends.”
Chapter Eighteen
Honey
This time I don’t have time to sense the kiss before it happens.
I’m still processing Giuseppe’s words, reading what meaning lies behind the obvious.
‘I don’t want to be just friends.’
That gives him plenty of time to once again set his glass down, and take mine to do the same. Then, he rips off his glasses to join them on the coffee table.
When he leans in this time, his hands cupping my face, I realize he meant exactly what he said. No facade. No subterfuge. No hidden intent.
His lips cement that fact, dancing against mine to that lovey rhythm that is rapidly becoming my favorite tune. His right hand slides around to the back of my neck to bring me in closer.
Giuseppe pulls away once again, less suddenly this time.
The look in his eyes gives no reprieve.
I know what he wants, and I’m more than happy to give it to him. More to the point, I need to.
He’s not the only one who needs release tonight.
His hand on the back of my neck is still firmly in place, claiming me. The other comes around to the front. Gone are the days of him being a gentleman, avoiding looking at the most intimate parts of me.
Now, he demands it all. His hand doesn’t even hesitate before tugging at the tie that holds my robe closed. The silk slithers away to reveal my naked body.
I’m the last person on Earth that anyone would ever call shy.
But now, the way Jesse’s eyes fall on me, wandering over my bare breasts, across my stomach, down to the spot where my thighs come together, it has me feeling like a teenage virgin.
Even Roy Jackson way back in the day, entangled with me in the backseat of his dad’s car underneath the glare of the indoor carlight didn’t make me feel this simultaneously vulnerable yet giddy with anticipation.
“Mannaggia a te,” Giuseppe mutters underneath his breath.
Italian. Sexy.
His eyes flash up to mine, apologetically for some reason. “Sorry, it’s just.” His eyes fall again, drawn by my naked body. It’s all the affirmation I need, but his next words make my cup runneth over. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
“Such naughty words for a Catholic boy,” I say with a smile.
He casts one quick look at me, his eyes inadvertently falling to everything he personally exposed. I see the flash of raw hunger there, but he fights it, angrily shaking his head.
“What is it, Giuseppe?”
Once again, he looks at me, the hunger more fierce than ever.
“I just know that…I think I want you more than—” He pauses, some conflict in his eyes deterring him before he continues. “More than I should. I don’t mean just physically, I mean…in other ways; in every way.”
Good Lord, he’s even more drunk than I thought.
But it’s wonderful.
Pleasure fills my veins, surging through my body enough to make my toes curl, my nipples harden, my body sing.
I grin up at him, my hand coming to his face. “Then have me.”
The way his body twists around, his hands coming back up to claim me again, tells me the encouragement wasn’t needed at all. I might as well have shot him full of testosterone-laced adrenaline.
This time, he has me lying prone on the couch, hovering over me like a prize champion who has bested his foe. His eyes once again wander over me, as though savoring his victory.
The need it builds in me is just as ferocious. Honestly, that bulge in his pants is enough to have me wanting to turn the tables so I can claim a trophy of my own.
Then his lips sink down. He doesn’t kiss me, he savors me. Those lips trace a line across my jaw, down to my neck. I tilt my head back and close my eyes as the heat begins to well inside of me. The sensitive skin on my neck tingles underneath his touch and I bite my bottom lip to keep from giggling with enjoyment.
As he works his way lower, his hand comes in to join. One caresses the curve along my thigh, across my hips, and up around my waist, resting to cup my breast. My already hardened nipple pebbles painfully under his soft grip. The other is claimed by his lips as they travel low enough to surround it, his tongue swirling around the peak.
“Giuseppe,” I sigh, arching my back to meet him.
The hand gripping my waist tightens as though he never wants to let go. Giuseppe groans and pulls his mouth away from my nipple to push face-first into my stomach, nuzzling it.
My hand comes down, sinking into his hair, nails dragging lightly across his scalp.
He shifts his weight, forcing himself between my legs. Even as I accommodate him, he impatiently takes hold of one to throw over his shoulder. The stubble of his jaw scratches my stomach as he burrows deeper and deeper, lowering himself until he’s reached that magical wonderland of delight.
Like a kid at an amusement park getting her first taste of cotton candy, the rush of anticipation sends me over the edge. The first touch of his lips has me falling hard.
Great day in the mornin—
“Giuseppe!” I cry out
His only response is a growl of hunger as he works his tongue, casting some magical spell against my clit, awakening it to pleasures that have only been hinted at before.
Who knew the uptight neighbor that could barely manage to work his mouth into a tight smile could use it to create such a masterpiece.
I rock my hips, wanting more.
He’s happy to accommodate, pursing his lips surrounding the head and drawing it even further out of its hood. The hand not gripping my waist comes down to join his mouth, plunging into me with an ease that is more than understandable considering how wet I am.
Yet another surprise greets me when Giuseppe h
andily finds exactly the right spot inside to have me arching my back even more, my mouth crying out his name.
The hand in his hair grips hard, like I’m clinging to the only life preserver in a sea of ecstasy.
I bite back a smile, which is quickly replaced by a perfect O as another orgasm hits me. At this rate, my body is certainly getting a workout.
Ain’t nothing wrong with that at all.
His stamina is astounding and if my body wasn’t quickly reaching the point of utter exhaustion, I’m sure he could go for hours. Superman, indeed.
“Please,” I whisper.
Giuseppe gradually slows down. The fingers inside of me, make one final stroke, forcing a painfully thrilling shiver out of me. His mouth pulls away from my clit, leaving it raw and exposed.
I slide further back on the couch, bringing my legs up so I can close them once again and recover.
I smile at him, wanting to express just how much I needed this tonight. Not in a rebound way—I’m well beyond the need to recover from Francis’ betrayal. A part of me knew it was over that day at lunch.
But this? This was absolutely—
“I want you, Honey.”
Although I still feel the aftershocks of pleasure working my exhausted body, I slip out of the robe and sit up. My arms come around his neck and tug at his shirt, dragging it up.
Giuseppe eagerly joins me, pulling it off and tossing it aside.
Before I can bother with his pants, he reaches out to grab me, pulling me in closer until I’m straddling him.
He easily lifts us off the couch and my legs go around his waist, clinging to him as he takes us to my bedroom.
He blindly bumps into the bed. The feel of it has me clawing my way off of him to the mattress so we can complete what it is we came to do.
He has eyes only for me, and they blaze with fire as he forces his pants and underwear down, exposing that magnificent cock that, until now, I’ve only had a tease of.
But there is nothing teasing about this dick. It’s demanding and powerful, fully intent on taking what it wants.
And I’m more than happy to give.
Giuseppe falls down on to his hands, hovering over me.
The fire in his gaze flickers with a thought. “Do you have…?”
Shit.
“I have an IUD. But for the past two years I’ve only ever been with—”
He silences the end of that sentence with his mouth. It’s enough to make me forget the name I was almost stupid enough to utter.
The rest of him crashes into me, his hardness painfully pressing into my belly. I buck away and throw my legs up around his waist.
With one powerful stroke, he plunges into me so deep and hard I temporarily forget what it was like not ever having had him inside of me, I’m so thoroughly consumed by the feel of him. Despite his size—something I definitely have to now acquaint myself with—I’m so wet, I accept him easily.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, as slowly as he eases back out of me.
“Yes,” I whisper. He follows it with another quick thrust.
His hips work faster. My nails dig deeper into his back. His breath is heavy. My legs are painfully tight, wrapped around him.
“I don’t want to hear his damn name from your lips ever again,” he growls against my ear.
“No,” I breathe out, lost in the feeling he’s building inside of me.
My fingers rake up his back, and I entangle them in his hair. I tug, pulling him up so I can see his eyes.
“Is it me you want or—?”
“You,” he growls. He works his hips faster as though reinforcing that point.
The violation is sublime, stroking every part of me and sending firecrackers through my body.
They’re nothing compared to the massive wave I feel building inside of me. My insides begin to quiver and pulse in anticipation.
Giuseppe jerks his hips in one quick motion.
“It’s you, Honey.”
Another jerk.
“Always you,” he breathes.
It’s the spark that causes the eruption.
My back arches and I’m lost in the stars that blind my eyes as I come.
I feel Giuseppe shudder against me as he erupts.
Just as I fall past the brink, I hear him say once again.
“Always you.”
I’m still falling as he comes down on top of me, hugging me closer to his hard, firm body.
I smile into his musky warmth, still clinging to him.
It takes several minutes for us both to recover, slowly making our way closer to the headboard.
I don’t even need to ask, Giuseppe just pulls the covers down and guides me underneath to join him.
Because he’s staying.
Chapter Nineteen
Honey
The warm body lying in bed next to me is certainly a nice way to start Valentine’s Day. Being wrapped up in my favorite color just makes it all the better.
Although part of me just wants to snuggle in closer to this hard, firm body, another part of me is curious.
I rise up on one elbow and stare down at Giuseppe as he sleeps.
It’s adorable.
His lips are slightly parted, a nearly silent snore escaping them.
Those hard features, sharp lines and fine edges are softened in sleep, making him look almost angelic.
Though I definitely still prefer the glasses.
His breathing becomes less regular and I feel him stir against me.
“Morning sleepyhead.” I smile down at him waiting for his eyes to open.
They turn into slits, then squint open. “I had the craziest dream.”
“Crazy or not, I better have been in it,” I say, poking him in the chest.
“I prefer the waking version,” he says with a smile as his eyes finally focus on me. A frown comes to his face as he brings one hand up to pinch his forehead. “And next time let’s hold off on Uncle Dickey’s moonshine.”
“I dunno. It brings out the best version of you.”
“Just how much of an ass did I make of myself last night before…?” He smiles at the memory of it.
“It wasn’t your ass that did the talking, and as far as that goes, it was spectacular.”
He laughs and shifts, sliding up so that he’s leaning against the headboard. He reaches out an arm to curl me to his side.
I smile and snuggle into that warm sea of masculinity. It’s such a contrast to the femininity of the room.
“So you don’t regret it?” he asks staring ahead.
I pull away and study him, wondering if he does. “Not at all.”
“Good,” he says, still staring at the wall ahead. His eyes slide to me in consideration. “Neither do I.”
He leans in closer to whisper in my ear. “And I meant every word of it.”
Always you.
I smile and fall back into his side.
As far as I’m concerned, we can spend the entire holiday this way. Certainly better than some fancy restaurant, or luxury hotel, or a trip to Saint-Tropez.
“I take it pink is your favorite color,” Giuseppe says, smiling as he looks around.
“Actually, it’s orange. But they were having a sale on pink so,” I shrug against him.
He laughs and squeezes his arm around me. “It’s all a pink blur to me right now.”
“Do you want me to get your glasses?”
He grins and looks down at me. Maybe he’s not so bad without the glasses after all.
“Nah, I’m near-sighted. There’s only one thing I need to focus on in this room right now.”
“You really do know how to whisk a gal off her feet, don’t you, Superman?”
“Still consider me a superhero then, even after that drunken mess last night?”
“You certainly fit the motto, ‘man of steel,’” I say with a grin I rise up and lean in to kiss him.
I can still taste the peach of the moonshine on his breath. It’s a nice heady experi
ence and I linger in it.
When I finally pull away I sigh and fall against him with a smile on my face.
“It’s not bad, actually. The pink. It suits you. And this headboard is…impressive. Where in the world did you get it?”
“I saw it at a place in the meatpacking district. I had to have it. It was in some gaudy red velvet but I had it reupholstered.” I frown as I consider the new reality of my circumstances. “It’s the one thing I’m taking with me when I move out. This and my bookcase and books of course.”
I feel Giuseppe stiffen against me.
“You’re moving out?”
I sigh and pull away to look up at him.
“All of this,” I say, waving a hand around me. “It was all…well, it was all him. The furniture, most of my clothes, even the rent on this apartment. He paid for all of it.”
A shadow crosses his face, something somber and unreadable.
I choose to ignore it, looking away. “I can’t very well continue to accept anything from him after…after what he’s done. After what we’ve done.”
“Right,” Giuseppe says, staring distantly ahead as though lost in thought.
I don’t like it, the way his face is suddenly back to being unreadable.
“I have friends I can move in with, Jerome has let me stay with him before. And I’ll have to get a job of course, a day job since my nights are obviously taken. But I think it will be good, doing something productive with my days. I’ll just donate the furniture and clothes, though I should probably consider selling them to earn some money.”
I’m rambling, mostly to snap Giuseppe out of whatever is going on inside that damn head of his. The longer it goes, the deeper the dread I feel setting in.
I grab the covers and pull them up to my chest as I draw away. I kneel on the bed to face him.
“What? What is it, Giuseppe?” I ask, exasperated.
He blinks and turns to face me.
“It’s nothing, Honey. I just—” His face clouds again. “I don’t like the idea of you and him…that way.”
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