A Weekend of Misbehaving

by Carmen Falcone

  Chapter Eleven

  Alice wrapped herself in a fluffy robe. She stepped out of the shower and sighed. The powerful jets had washed away all the problems in her life. Almost. She had texted her mother to make sure everything was okay, and it was. For now. She knew every time her sister experienced problems with switching meds, the process was complicated and time consuming.

  A cloud of steam whirled around her, and she glided into Lorenzo’s Gucci slippers. How crazy was this? She was in his home, in his bathroom of all things. He had said, “Go upstairs and make yourself comfortable,” after they had eaten Chinese. There were other rooms, of course, but she had just walked into his. Like it was the most common thing on earth. How was that for denial?

  Technically it was Sunday, so the weekend wasn’t over. She glanced at her watch. A few more minutes and Monday would roll in. She cinched the robe at her waist and returned to the airy master bedroom. Sure, it was austere and minimalistic. Sliding her hand over the nightstand, she contemplated the shape of the modern lamp and bit back a smile. This was his room, his territory. As much as she wasn’t a part of it, for a moment she could pretend that—

  “Alice?”

  She followed the sound of his voice, her gaze darting to the door. He leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed and eyes intently watching her. Oh, God. Please tell me he just got here. That he hasn’t been watching me touch his things like I’m some kind of desperate stalker straight from the Lifetime Channel. “Coming here was a bad idea, wasn’t it?”

  “Coming to my place or to my bedroom?” He closed the distance between them.

  “Both,” she said, finding it impossible to keep from admiring his gorgeous lips.

  She smoothed her hands over the robe, the soft material teasing her clammy palms. This would go away, right? This…thing that tore at her core, that provoked the throbbing in her clit. “Listen, thanks for the support. I know it will be okay. It has to be. Now, I should probably go to sleep in the room next door. Or maybe call a cab. Or better yet, I should visualize a hole under my feet and maybe it will come true. I read The Secret twice, and I’m sure when you want something bad enough—”

  He pulled her into his arms so violently, it was like a giant wave slamming against the shore. He plundered her mouth with his. Thousands of little currents charged within her, and she leaned into him, wanting to give him all she had—even if for the last time. It was still the weekend somewhere in the world, wasn’t it? Time zones had to count for something, for crying out loud.

  She hugged him, excited to feel his strong muscled chest against her—the hard ridges of the body she had come to know so well. His powerful erection poked at her, and she fidgeted against him until they were lost in a perfect mold of an embrace. His breath heaved against her, and she eventually came up for air.

  “I—”

  “Don’t,” he growled.

  They stumbled through the room as he got rid of her robe, and she set him free of his shirt. By the time they fell onto the mattress, with him on top, she gasped. He pulled down his pants and boxers and stared at her with a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

  Her body hummed, and she could feel her clit had swollen. Sensitized. Pulsing. Aching for him. He nipped her neck, and she arched toward him, unwilling to wait. She pushed him away, and the moment he fell on the mattress, she straddled him.

  Yes. She caught his wrists and put them above his head. Keeping him still was a challenge, what with his size. If he wanted, he could switch positions in a blink. To her enjoyment, he didn’t. He raised his brow, and a sexy, lazy smile spread across his face.

  “Tonight, you’re mine.”

  “What have I done to deserve such privilege?” he said.

  “It’s what you’re about to do.”

  “Even better.”

  She silenced him with a kiss. Even though she was the one on top, he worked his tongue in her mouth, a stroke designed to drive any woman crazy. Tightening her grip on his wrists, she squirmed and rubbed her naked body on his. His delicious cock sprung against her, and he groaned. What a heady sensation it was…

  To keep from coming right there, she trailed down to his neck, gliding her tongue over his skin—so warm and salty it reminded her of the Mediterranean Ocean. His glorious manly scent invaded her nostrils, and she sighed, wanting to absorb everything about him. Her hold loosened as she kissed his nipples and let go of his hands.

  He gave her a smack on her ass, quick, her flesh flaring under his heavy hand. A shot of arousal zapped through her.

  “Hey. I’m supposed to be in control here.”

  He grinned. “I don’t think either of us are.”

  Her heart thumped in her ears. He captured her mouth in a soul-searing kiss, and perhaps used it to distract her as he rolled her on the mattress and positioned himself above. Two can play this game. She smacked his firm, awesome butt cheek and chuckled. “Maybe you’re right.”

  In retaliation, he nudged her legs apart with his knee. Desire slicked between her folds, and by the time he thrust a finger into her, she was soaking wet. “Come inside me,” she choked.

  “I already am,” he said, with an evil grin, and slid one more finger into her.

  Oh God. He played with her folds, teased her moist walls, and found her swollen clit. The second he started to play with it, she needed to gather all her strength not to come then and there. It was like his thumb was charged with electricity that sent little shocks through her every time he worked her engorged nub.

  The teasing continued. He cupped her breasts, tugging at her nipple before taking it in his mouth. Having sex with him made her stronger, bolder, and empowered. Yet, at the same time, she felt weaker, vulnerable, like he was a drug she could no longer survive without. She threw her head back against the pillow and focused on getting lost in the world of pleasures. A world she would hate to leave behind.

  Because you love him. The thought stabbed at her, but she shook her head, willing it away. As he traveled south on her body, even breathing was a stretch. Let alone entertain that crazy idea from the heat of the moment.

  He covered her sex with his mouth, and his tongue flicked her intimate ring relentlessly. The cold metal against the heat of his mouth set a path of growing thrills through her. A pattern of spasms began, and she didn’t fight them. Her body shook and undulated in a sexual dance encouraged by his insistent licking and sucking—even when the convulsions lessened, he continued to feast on her like it was the last time. But did it have to be?

  He thrust into her and shredded all coherent thought. She clenched her inner muscles, wanting to trap him inside her and never let him go. Under his breath, he hissed, and she watched the contours of his handsome face tighten. She pushed him on his back and climbed on top once more.

  This time, he didn’t fight it. No, he anchored his grip on her hips, his fingers biting into her skin, egging her on. As if he, too, didn’t want to let her go. Her heart burst like a popped bottle of champagne. Could it be true?

  She moved on top of him and never broke eye contact. How could she? His forest green eyes darkened, yet there was a gleam in his irises. He trailed one hand to her breast and cupped her, his fingers making circles around her painfully hard nipple. She played with his balls, and he clamped his lips.

  “Let’s come together,” she suggested.

  With a swift movement, he sat upright and brought her with him. Still on top of him, her face was close to his, and she could feel his hot breath on her. They were equals. Not boss and nanny. Not weekend arrangement pals. They were making love. Love.

  He pumped into her, the modern frame screeching under the pressure. The sight of his glistening face was too gorgeous to ignore. She kissed him, her tongue delving into his mouth, and he responded by thrusting into her deeper, stronger. Soon, the throbbing sensations that began in her core spread through her, and she trembled.

  She opened her eyes and watched him, and realized he was climaxing, too.

  Then they fel
l on the mattress, their bodies stuck together, warm and sated.

  “Why did you pick my room?” He ran his fingers through her hair.

  “I guess I didn’t think much about it. Then after I showered, I realized this is an enormous penthouse and I should have gone somewhere else.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t.” He planted a kiss on her neck. “This is the first time I brought someone here since my wife died.”

  “Really?” she asked, a tiny light inside her brightening like a lighthouse. That had to mean something, right? He wouldn’t just have sex with her in that room unless she meant something. She wasn’t just the nanny anymore. “Did you, er, date after her passing?”

  He yawned. “Not right away. I just wanted to be there for Cara. I took a few women out, yes, but it felt wrong bringing them into my home.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he kissed the top of her head, and she could sense he was falling asleep. His muscles relaxed, and he closed his eyes. Love. Could this be happening?

  Drumming her fingers on his chest, she peered up at him again. Yep. Lorenzo, Mr. B, cockalicious man certainly wasn’t wasting any time musing over his emotions. He was out like a log.

  Carefully, she disengaged from him. He muttered something and threw his arm to the other side of the bed, as if searching for her, but she just inhaled and swung one leg over the other. A heat rushed through her, awakening all her cells. There was no way she’d sleep. She needed to figure things out.

  She was Alice Sommers, for crying out loud. The woman who was used to solving problems and taking charge. Slipping out of bed, she realized her pulse still raced. Why? She just had sex. In his home.

  Because you love him.

  She silently cursed the inner voice that kept whispering to her. Then why did her body work in tandem with the idea, and she felt like she was about to have a mini panic attack? Water. She needed water. To drink, to splash on her face, or as last resort—a cold shower.

  Ignoring the fact she showered not that long ago, she headed to the bathroom. But not without glancing at the fine male specimen sprawled over the large bed one more time. Lorenzo Baldi.

  He could have stayed behind and secured his deal with Viola. Instead, he came back with her to Austin, and even offered for her to spend the night at his place. He’d taken care of her. When they came together…for once in her life, everything was right where it was supposed to be.

  She tiptoed into the bathroom and closed the door behind her without a sound. His deep, cultured voice rang in her ears. “I took a few women out, yes, but it felt wrong bringing them into my home.”

  That wasn’t the case with her, otherwise he wouldn’t have broken the rules, would he? They had sex in his home—clearly breaking the agreement they made in Capri. She opened the tap and let the cold water slip through her fingers.

  If he did all that because he cared for her…she wasn’t scared. She wasn’t even a tiny bit scared. Her heart leaped to her throat and throbbed in her mouth. Okay, maybe a bit scared.

  When she raised her eyes to meet her reflection in the mirror, she stifled a gasp. Her eyebrows were drawn together, yes, but there was a glow in her wide brown eyes. A red stain spread across her cheeks. She splashed some cool water on her skin, but it didn’t dampen the simmering, newfound truth… She loved Lorenzo Baldi. Oh, shit.

  Lorenzo chugged down the cup of coffee. He stole another glance Alice’s way as she moved on the bed, coming awake from deep sleep. The alarm clock on his nightstand read seven o’clock, and he knew he should wake her up. It was early, and she probably had stuff to do for her sister.

  Damn it. Sleeping with her in Texas, in his home, in his bed had been beyond stupid. How could they go back to their boss and nanny relationship? He had been trying so hard to convince her to go with him to New York he even threw in some help with her stylist career. Why was it so hard to say good-bye to her?

  Last night had been a relapse. From here on, they had to go back to the old dynamics. He walked over and gave her a gentle nudge on her elbow. “Alice, you should wake up. It’s seven o’clock.” His voice came out softer than he had wanted. Well, no need to make it a military wake-up call. When he told her what was on his mind she would catch the drift.

  Truth was, a part of him had wanted her to pick his room last night. He was to blame. If he had been clear about the sleeping arrangements, the best sex of his life wouldn’t have happened.

  She rubbed her eyes and sat upright. One of his shirts covered her all the way down her legs. Better this way. No distractions. “Good morning. Thanks for waking me up.”

  He pulled up a chair. “We need to talk.”

  “Yes,” she said with a gleam in her eyes.

  No. No, no, no. Could she be misreading the situation? He coughed. “It’s about last night.”

  She lifted her hand. “Let me go first. There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you. I guess I was fighting the idea without even meaning to.”

  “Go ahead.” Could this be about New York? His pulse spiked. She had come to her senses—maybe the recent event with her sister opened her eyes to the harsh reality: she needed her own life. He’d see to it that her sister got the best care available, but damn it, she couldn’t be a doormat any longer. “Tell me what’s on your mind. Whatever it is.”

  “I love you.”

  All his muscles tensed. Love? If a UFC champion had punched him in the gut, he doubted he’d experience the same defenselessness. A guy he could hit back. “You love… I didn’t catch that,” he said, just to make sure. Maybe she meant to say she loved his room, or his bed. Maybe she had started a sentence and just didn’t finish it.

  Alice lifted her chin, and her smile broadened. Her gorgeous brown eyes responded to his question before she did. They glowed. His stomach clenched, and he balled his fingers into a fist.

  “I love you. I always had a crush on you, but didn’t think anything would ever come of it. It shouldn’t have. But after last night, I just can’t hold it in anymore. I know you have feelings for me, too. You brought me here, where no one else has been. You said it yourself. And what you said about not having control…”

  He sucked in his breath. There was a hot pulse in his throat, impossible to swallow. What the hell was he supposed to say? There was no way this could work if she loved him. Whenever love was involved…things got messy and often disappointing. The whole reason why he enjoyed Alice was because they had been able to keep it strictly sexual. Well, maybe not completely. But love? No. He shook his head. It couldn’t be. “I don’t know what to say.”

  The bumpy relationship with his father had showed him how emotionally strenuous it was to put yourself in such a vulnerable state. And his marriage had been the cherry on the top during his adult life. If she loved him, he couldn’t take her with him to New York. If she loved him—

  The smile faded from her mouth, and she brought her knees to her chest. “Am I wrong? You don’t feel anything for me?”

  “I care for you.” He shifted in his seat, hating himself for the sad expression washing over her pretty face. “You are an amazing woman, Alice. But I can’t take things further. In fact, I shouldn’t have last night.”

  She folded her arms over her knees. “Why did you come home early from Capri? You could have stayed there.”

  “I thought by coming with you, I could help you see I can be a better employer. That I pay attention to your needs. And that going to New York is the best option for you. It may look like your family needs you more than ever, but just think objectively: when we got here, your mother had already found someone to watch Brenda overnight. She chose to sleep at the hospital. Maybe she freaked out when she called you because she’s not used to doing things all by herself.”

  “You’re using my sister’s disease and near death to make a point?”

  “We can get your sister the treatment she needs. I’ll make sure that happens. Whatever the cost.”

  She got to her feet and scrambled for
her clothes. “I guess you are good at compartmentalizing, Mr. B.”

  “Alice, don’t—”

  “I’ll make things easy for you. There is no chance in hell I’m going to New York. I can help you out for the next week or so, for Cara’s sake. As long as we don’t communicate other than what’s strictly necessary. And I want my money so I can pay the loan shark.”

  “You got it.” He walked to a safe and retrieved the wad of cash he had withdrawn before they left for Italy. “There.”

  “Good.” She yanked it from his hand. “I’ll be off for the rest of the day. Have to help my sister out,” she said, before sauntering out of sight.

  He yelled that he could get Gordon to drive her, but she was already gone. Gone. He slammed his fist on the wall. The pain didn’t bring him the relief he anticipated. Letting her go was the right thing to do. But it didn’t mean it was the easy thing to do.

  He returned to his room and realized that even though she was gone, her scent clung in the air. Her energy, the rumpled sheets somehow still embodied her presence as if she hadn’t completely left. She had, though. Because of him, and that was fine. Terrific.

  Man up. He’d survived a failed marriage and his wife’s death. How different would this be?

  Burying himself in work and parenthood would suffice. He grabbed the phone to call Cara’s camp and warn them he’d be picking her up in a couple hours, when he noticed a missed call from Viola.

  He imagined Paul would call him soon to gloat about his victory. Sliding his fingers on the screen, he called her back. His heart raced. What if Paul looked into the painter’s life and connected the dots? All he fought for, his whole life, would go down a filthy drain. Shit.

  “Ciao.”

  He rubbed his temples. “Ciao. I apologize for leaving in a rush. Alice’s sister had an emergency, and I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

  “I heard about that. I’m glad she’s better.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I texted Alice.”

  “Oh.”