by Tamara Lush
“Why don’t you want me to post about you on social—?”
With his thumb and forefinger, he plucked a strawberry out of the bowl and interrupted her question. “Can I feed you?”
She nodded and opened her mouth. He rested the berry on her tongue. She chewed, a tiny smile on her lips. He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers then fed her another strawberry.
“You’re so sensual when you eat,” he murmured. “I like watching you.”
She didn’t know what to say. Her cheeks flared and she lowered her eyes. She lay back, looking up at the summer night sky. He turned and put the bowl on a nearby table then sprawled on his side, looking at her.
Her eyes traveled to his linen shirt, and she gave in to temptation, tugging at his collar with her thumb and forefinger. “It’s funny, I was under the impression that Italian men wore expensive suits and stuff. You’re always casual.”
“I’m in vacation mode. I do have a suit. And a collared shirt and real pants.” His voice was smooth, like a caress.
“I’d like to see you dressed up someday,” she ventured.
“I’ll make that happen.” He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her cheek, then backed away.
“Great music. I love downtempo stuff,” she murmured. She turned her body so that she faced him, propping her ear on her forearm and mirroring his posture. “Have you heard this album from Thievery Corporation?” she asked. “It’s my new favorite.”
“Which one is this? Is this Saudade? I love the songs on that.”
“Yes. What’s that word mean, anyway? Is it Italian?”
He shook his head. “Portuguese.”
“What does it mean?”
“Hmm, it’s difficult to explain in English…”
Luca inched closer to her. She wasn’t wearing a bra because her dress had built-in support, but when her nipples hardened they still showed through the fabric. The downward flicker of his eyes meant that he noticed.
“Saudade.” He drew the word out. “Saudade is an emotion. It’s kind of the love that remains after someone is gone. How do you say in English, ‘longing’? But it’s more than that. It also refers to the love left behind after someone dies. Or a feeling for a person in your life right now who is going to disappear in the future. It’s a little complicated.”
He blinked slowly as he spoke, and she wondered if he was thinking of someone specific. Skylar was well acquainted with the feelings he described.
Luca’s bare feet found hers, and his toe trailed across her arch. A current shot up her leg, and she grew even more nervous. They stared into each other’s eyes. Skylar thought her heart would burst, it was beating so fast.
A new song played, sung by a woman with a sexy, ethereal voice. Luca studied Sky’s face, his eyes resting on her lips as he spoke. “This one is my favorite. ‘Sola in Citta.’ It’s the only song in Italian on the album. The lyrics are beautiful.”
“Translate for me,” Skylar said.
Luca trailed his fingers up and down her bare arm, and goose bumps spread across her skin. “It’s about a person in a new place looking for someone.”
He spoke in a quiet, velvety tone. Sky closed her eyes, hoping to steady the slight dizzy feeling in her head. Was it the wine or him? She inhaled, taking in the aroma of the ocean and his skin. He smelled so good. Spicy and warm and edible.
Luca’s hand shifted to slide deeply into her hair, his palm caressing her neck and his thumb stroking her jaw. Her entire body ached with desire, but she wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted. A kiss? A touch? Sex? She opened her eyes to look at him as he translated the lyrics.
“The first line goes, ‘Where are you?’”
He spoke in a near-whisper, and she melted.
“Then it goes, ‘I need to meet you.’”
Skylar realized she was holding her breath.
“‘I want to feel you close.’”
She heard her heartbeat in waves inside her ears and shut her eyes.
“‘I want to hold you close to me.’”
The song ended, and Luca’s hand was still in her hair. He said, “Skylar.”
“Luca,” she whispered.
“You know what I’ve thought about all week?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just put his lips to hers, kissing her with force. She pulled back, breathless, and shook her head.
“This,” he said. “I wanted to feel your lips.”
She lay on her back and he was suddenly above her. He stroked the front of her neck with his thumb and her whole body trembled. Sliding her hands onto his arms, Skylar could feel the softness of his linen shirt under her fingertips and his hard muscles underneath the fabric.
“And kiss your face,” he said, grazing her cheek. “And kiss your eyes.”
Luca brushed his mouth against her closed eyelids, one after the other. Skylar was swimming in desire. Never had anyone kissed her so sensually.
“Bellissima,” he whispered.
He kissed her again and grasped a handful of her hair and moved her head so that her ear was next to his mouth. Skylar loved how he moved her around, positioning her exactly the way he wanted. She wanted to let him do whatever he desired, and her willingness to give in scared her.
Too soon. Too soon. And into her lusty fog, James’s unwanted voice intruded. Your skin is too warm, he’d criticized. What’s wrong with you?
Luca pressed his lips behind her earlobe and trailed them down her neck. A bit of perspiration clung to her hairline. She wondered if he liked the way she felt, if she was the right temperature for him, if she was right for him in any meaningful way or if he was just sating a passing urge. Already Skylar could see herself falling hard for him, and she didn’t need that right now. He’d surely been with lots of women. He was too gorgeous. Too worldly. Too confident.
He will break my heart.
But her thoughts dissolved as his tongue collided with hers and she caressed his chest.
He moaned a little as he kissed her and nibbled on her lower lip. One of his hands was on her thigh, inching the fabric of her long skirt upward. His touch was slow and teasing, and by the time he had worked the hem up to her knee Skylar’s skin sparkled underneath his fingertips.
Her skirt slid up and he pressed himself against her as they stretched out. Their bodies were crushed together from chest to hip, and their legs tangled. His erection pressed into her, and she opened her legs wider and wondered if she would be able to resist him.
Luca propped himself up on his forearms and gazed at her. His lips were red and kiss-stung. She opened her mouth to speak.
“Do you have a question for me?” he asked, amused, kissing her nose.
She giggled. “Were you the—?”
With a mock roll of his eyes, he interrupted. “Guy who helped the plane crash victim?”
Their eyes locked, and they both laughed.
“You’re kind of a pest, Skylar Shaw. But you’re a sexy pest.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“You should.”
She ran her hands up the sides of his torso and could feel the wonderful muscles there. Slipping her hands under his shirt would be perilous, and yet, she wanted to touch his bare skin.
“You did help the guy after the crash, didn’t you?” she pressed. “You’re the Good Samaritan.”
“Oh, I am good. Very good.”
With a slow thrust, he pressed his hips harder against hers. She sucked in a breath and said, “I have no doubt about that.”
“But I want you to find out just how good.”
He kissed her, and Skylar tried to will away the throbbing need between her legs. Luca paused and gazed at her breasts. With the lightest brush of his thumb, he stroked a nipple poking through fabric, and her mouth opened in a tiny gasp.
“For argument’s sake, Skylar,” he said, “let’s pretend I am the person who helped the plane crash victim.”
His voice was raspy, and she nodded, trying
not to whimper with desire as his thumb continued stroking. “Okay. And?”
He lowered his head and softly closed his lips around her pointed nipple through the fabric, tugged just enough to send a ripple of fresh heat through her body. Now she was unable to contain herself, and a small noise came from the back of Skylar’s throat. Luca replaced his mouth with his hand, and he stared at her as he cupped her breast.
“Would you be able to write an article about me now that we’ve kissed? Now that I’ve run my hands through your hair? Now that you’ve felt how much I want you? Would that be ethical? Can you write an impartial article under these conditions about someone who can’t stop thinking about you?”
She studied his face and released a breathy laugh. “Why are you giving me an ethics lecture?”
She couldn’t take it anymore. With her hand on the back of his head, she eased him toward her, kissing her way up his neck until she found his ear, and then she put her lips to that soft lobe and nibbled until he groaned.
“Why are you driving me crazy, Skylar?” he said.
She ran her hands under his shirt and over the smooth skin of his lower back. The sensation was divine. Then she panicked a little. Sucking in a breath, she noticed that her skirt was hiked to her upper thighs and her underwear was showing. He was grinding into her. It was time to slow this down—way down—because she didn’t want a repeat of James. She didn’t trust herself to be able to read Luca’s true motivations or character. She didn’t want a one-night stand, no matter how much she lusted after him, and she sure didn’t want to get involved with another man who would just put her down and make her feel like crap. Not that Luca had given her any inkling that he would do such a thing.
Luca’s breath caught, and he gazed again at her breasts. His thumb stroked the edge of her dress as he inched the fabric downward, threatening to expose more skin.
“I want you,” he whispered. “Will you stay tonight? I want you in my bed so I can play with you for hours and hours. Let’s go inside. Please? I can beg if you want me to. It’ll turn me on to beg you.”
Skylar wriggled out from underneath him, sat up, and tucked her legs underneath her. She tugged her skirt down. Her dress was wrinkled and stuck to her hot skin. She tried, and failed, to catch her breath, instead shuddering out a big, sloppy inhale. Being around Luca was overwhelming, and she didn’t want to tease him. It wasn’t as though she was physically afraid of him. Quite the opposite, in fact. There was an underlying kindness, a gentle undercurrent about him, that made her trust him. But…
“I’m sorry. We need to tone this down.” Her voice was firm, but inside she was scattered.
He sat up and smoothed her tangled hair with a gentle hand. “Don’t worry. I have condoms. And I’ve been tested recently. I went to the doctor when I first arrived on Palmira and I haven’t been with anyone in a while.”
She had to admire his honesty, but shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s… I’m not ready to sleep with you. Please don’t be angry.”
“Hey, hey. Mia cara.” He took her face in his hands. “I’m not angry. At all. But can I ask why?” He paused. “Are you a virgin?”
“No,” she said.
He brushed his lips over hers very quickly. “Okay. Are you religious?”
She shook her head.
“So you’re not attracted to me? You seem like you’re attracted to me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I am crazy attracted to you. I think that’s why I’m not ready. You kind of scare me.”
“You’re attracted to me but you’re not ready to be with me? I don’t understand. And I’m not trying to scare you.”
“I know you’re not. But I don’t want just a one-night stand.”
“Okay,” he said with a foxy smile. “How about if you stay all weekend? It’s only Thursday, so we have until…what? Monday morning?”
She swatted him on the thigh. “You know what I mean.”
“I guess.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I’ve found American women were more, I don’t know, open about sex.”
She shot him a skeptical smirk. “Yeah, and?”
“American women are feminists who like casual sex. So…what happened to you?”
Skylar raised her eyebrows. “What happened to me?”
“I assumed you’d be like that.”
“Like what?” Her voice was icy. “Easy?”
He smiled and nodded.
She sighed. Men could be so obtuse. “Being a feminist isn’t about casual sex or no sex. It’s about making the best choices for me and my body. That changes from day to day, situation to situation. Right now, in this moment, I’m bit guarded because of something, someone, in my past. And because I don’t know you. And because you have stupid assumptions about American women.”
“Fair enough, I guess.” He ran his hand up her bare calf, leaving sparks in its wake, and Skylar shivered. Why couldn’t she just be like any other twenty-two year old and have a casual hookup?
“And anyway,” she managed to say, “I get the impression that you’ve had lots of sex—and good for you. That’s totally cool. But you’re a bit judgmental about American women taking control of their bodies and their sex lives.”
He shrugged. She put her hands on the tops of his thighs and rubbed. He sure was sexy, but it seemed he had some caveman-like beliefs. She’d have to prove to him otherwise, if he’d let her.
“If an American woman wants to sleep around,” she asked, “how is that any different than you, an Italian man, sleeping around and never committing to one woman?”
Luca lifted his shoulders again.
“I think that’s probably what you want from me anyway. Just sex.”
“How do you know what I want?” he growled.
She pulled at the hem of her dress. “I don’t even know if you have a girlfriend. Or a wife.”
He laughed. “No girlfriend. No wife. Promise.”
“Good to know,” she said. “But I take it you’re not looking for one, either. And that’s okay, because I don’t want to get married or anything. I just don’t want to be used.”
Luca’s expression grew troubled. “I’ll admit I can’t promise you anything long-term, but not for the reasons you think. I don’t want to use you. I don’t know how long I’ll be on Palmira. I’m hoping for a few months. But…I like being with you. I want to make love to you. Let’s just see where this goes, no?”
“I’d like to take it slow,” Skylar replied. “You’re fun. As far as the sex, you’ll have to wait. I’ll understand if you don’t want to, though.” She glanced at him. Maybe he would be honest enough about wanting no-strings-attached sex, say goodbye, and she could move on with a bit of dignity.
He was silent as he chewed on his bottom lip. She knew this would be their first and last date, because he would never agree to what she was asking.
“You’re not used to waiting, are you?” she said.
He shook his head. She re-buttoned part of his shirt because his chest was distracting.
“Guys like you don’t wait, do they?”
He cocked his head. Then he answered. “But I will. For you.”
She was shocked into speechlessness, and she narrowed her eyes in disbelief. “Really?”
He nodded. “I know you don’t believe me. But I’ll wait. I think you’re worth waiting for. But answer one question. What are you waiting for, Skylar? Why deny yourself pleasure? And weren’t you going to use me to get to a good story?”
“That’s three questions,” she said.
He growled and kissed her.
“My last relationship was pretty toxic,” she said when he pulled back. Her mouth was still tingling. “I want to make sure I’m fucking someone for the right reasons and not because I’m being manipulated or used.”
Luca put his finger to her lips. “Hold on. I’m not going to fuck you. That’s not what I want. I’m going to make love to you. Fare l’amore.”
“Hmm.” She was s
keptical. Wouldn’t this be what he’d say if he was a player?
“Say it in Italian. Fare l’amore.” He kissed her nose.
“Fare l’amore,” she repeated.
“Very nice.”
She shook her head, trying steel herself against his flirtation. “I don’t know. I also want to make sure that you don’t think I’m boring, or fat, or lame in bed. And I want to make sure you’re not…like my ex-boyfriend.”
Luca scowled. “Did your ex tell you that? That you were boring, fat, and lame in bed?”
She nodded.
“He’s not here on this island, right?”
She shook her head.
“Good. Because I’d have to have a word with him, and it probably wouldn’t be a pleasant one. In fact, I’d probably want to kill him. And I hate violence. But hearing that makes me angry.” He leaned over to take her in his arms. “You’re none of those things, you know that, right? You’re the opposite. You’re gorgeous. Your body is perfect. I want to devour you.”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes, but it felt good to hear. “Do you think I’m a tease?”
“Maybe a little. But teasing isn’t a bad thing. It makes me want you more. If you want to tease me, go ahead. I’m looking forward to teasing you, too. This will just make it so much sweeter when we do end up together.” He kissed her deeply, then paused and placed his forehead to hers. “You’re going to be the one to decide when we should have sex. If we should. It’s all up to you. I’ll feel better if you’re comfortable and really want to be with me.”
“So”—she stared deep into his eyes—“if I go home now because I feel like things are getting out of control, you’ll want to see me again?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not going to pressure me to fuck…uh, have sex every time we’re together?”
He smiled. “Nope. No pressure. But don’t mistake that for me not wanting you. Because, when you’re ready, I’ll be ready. I want you very badly.”
She didn’t ask the obvious question, but it loomed in her mind. Would he still be around by the time she was ready for him?