by Tamara Lush
When she returned to the table, Sky’s coworkers were immersed in an absurd conversation and barely noticed as she sat.
“I am not covering a feature story about the nudist trailer park in Fort Myers. I don’t care how much Jill wants me to. I’m not wasting my time on that,” said Megan.
“All of the people you don’t want to see naked are at the nudist resorts,” Kira agreed, her tone matter-of-fact.
“So gross,” Megan said then looked at Sky. “Hey, did you run into Mr. Fuckable on your way to the bathroom? We saw him go down that hall right after you.”
“Oh, no. I didn’t.” Sky shook her head and hoped the red in her cheeks had receded. She picked up the wine list and pretended to read. Touching her chin with her index finger, she wondered if Luca’s stubble had left a mark, because her skin there felt raw. Her lips felt raw, too. In fact, her entire soul felt hypersensitive, rubbed bare.
“Suuure,” said Kira. “It was probably like that scene at the coffee shop in the movie Unfaithful.”
Skylar shot her a confused look over the top of the menu. Kira was always talking about movies. She wrote unpaid film reviews for the paper in hopes of someday becoming a critic.
“Did you see that movie? Diane What’s-her-name and that handsome French actor? He slips into the coffee shop and screws her senseless as her friends are sitting there unaware. It was so hot.”
Skylar shrugged and took a gulp of sangria. Out the corner of her eye she watched Luca toss a few bills on the bar then stride away without giving her a glance.
“Nope. Must have missed that one, Kira.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Annalisa stood before the glass case in the dive shop, carefully considering her choices. Should she pick the Survival Series Ultimate Knife or the one called the Halcyon, which was a fine name for a blade? The knives lined the case, each with their own special charms. She almost wanted the camouflage-handled one. It seemed so American.
“That one.” She pointed to the corner of the shelf. “That’s the one I’d like to get my boyfriend for his birthday. He dives a lot and needs a new scuba knife. He mentioned this to me the other week.”
The clerk extracted a shiny silver knife and droned on about the features. Scalloped edges that made it easier to hold. Something called a skeletonized handle, which meant it had five holes in case she wanted to slip her fingers into them for a firmer grip. A stainless-steel blade, a spear-point, a serrated edge and a plain edge.
Turning it over in her hands, Annalisa smiled as she wondered what it would feel like to cut skin with the gleaming weapon.
“I’ll take it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
He was used to risk. Traveling alone, he took plenty of calculated risks. Since his parents were killed, Luca hadn’t taken a risk for a woman. Hell, he hadn’t risked anything for a woman before the mess with the book. Hadn’t ever wanted to. The decision had been simple. Black-and-white. Relationships weren’t worth the trouble.
Until here, on Palmira. Skylar was a living, breathing gray area. A sexy risk. Spending time in her presence was a risk. Going to the Bacchus bar to see her was a risk. And now he was at a yoga class, bending and twisting his body so he could be near her. His gun was in the glove box of the car. Another risk.
Palmira seemed so safe, though. Maybe none of this was risky. Maybe all of it was. Maybe the biggest risk was to his heart, because he was willing to go out of his comfort zone for Skylar. For the first time in forever, he was allowing himself to feel something for another person.
He’d been edgy since kissing and touching Skylar at the bar the previous night. God, he’d wanted to ravish her in the bathroom. But he didn’t want to risk being in public for longer than necessary. He’d only gone to the bar to see who Skylar was with, and his stomach finally settled when he realized she was there with female coworkers and not a date—or with someone even more sinister. It was almost shameful to admit, but he’d needed to see with his own eyes that she wasn’t betraying him to the Mafia—or betraying him with another man.
Something about finding out that his uncle was really his father had made him even more paranoid about the people in his life. Who could he trust? His own mother had lied to him, and that was the most troubling fact of all.
The more one knows, the less one believes. His tattoo was truly his personal, ironic motto, mocking him every time he looked in the mirror.
After spending two emotional days talking to his uncle in Miami, he’d concluded that he might never have any real answers about his mother, about why she’d never revealed who his real father was.
“Just remember that she loved you,” Federico said several times.
Now that he was back on Palmira, Luca was still troubled. He looked over at Skylar, who had lifted her hands above her head. Her eyes were closed, her mouth was turned up in a smile, and she looked blissful. She always looked blissful, and that soothed some of his angst. He felt guilty for being so distrustful of her, yet discovering her truthfulness had endeared her even more to him. Add to that her sharp mind, her sexy laugh, her sweet lips, and he was totally distracted.
So here he was. At yoga. Trying to forget about everything in his life except Skylar.
Their mats were side by side in the crowded class and they stole glances at each other. Grinned like fools. The teacher lit sandalwood incense and candles flickered in the dark. The class was called Zen Flow, and the poses were languid, sensual. Slow chant music played, and he tried to concentrate upon being mindful and not on Skylar’s body. To stay in the moment, to not think about his problems. Or his imminent hard-on.
Luca hadn’t told Skylar that he’d spent three months at a yoga ashram in India. That was the first place he went after leaving Italy. He was pondering how to explain his yoga knowledge when he caught a glimpse of her in a pose. She was on her back and holding her feet with her hands, knees bent deep toward her armpits in what the teacher called happy baby pose. It was more like happy Luca pose. Maybe she would recreate that contortion for him naked.
“Okay, class, partner up,” the teacher said.
Luca turned to Skylar, grinning.
He felt the eyes of several women, but he grabbed Skylar’s wrist and pulled her toward him. “You’re my partner, no?” he asked.
She giggled softly.
The teacher had them stand close, back-to-chest. Luca was in back of Skylar, and following the teacher’s instruction he placed his hand in the middle of her spine to feel her breath. He slightly tilted his hips toward her ass so she could feel the stirrings of his erection. It was a good thing his shorts were super baggy.
“I can feel you breathing. Can you feel me?” he whispered in her ear.
He watched her in the mirror as she grew wide-eyed. They switched positions so Skylar was behind him, and she scratched his back softly through his shirt. He entertained a brief fantasy of leaving class and making love to her in the car. If only she would let him. It both surprised and mystified him that they still hadn’t had sex, and that he was even more interested in her now than when he first met her.
The teacher had them sit on the floor cross-legged and facing each other.
“Now, raise your hands to shoulder level, palms facing your partners, and press your hands into your partner’s hands. Look each other in the eyes and breathe. Try to coordinate your breath with your partner. In Sanskrit, yoga means yoke, or union. The most important thing we can do is be in a union, be one with someone else. We’re all in this life together. Let’s be together and live in the present.”
A twinge of anxiety rose in Luca’s chest. This was too intimate—more intimate than sex. Skylar’s bottom lip trembled, so maybe she was nervous, too. And yet, he didn’t separate from her gaze or her hands. She didn’t break from his, either. Her mouth parted and softened in the candlelight.
The teacher spoke again in a quiet voice. “I’m going to read some lines by the thirteenth-century Sufi poet, Rumi, then we’ll gaze at each other
’s auras in silence.”
Luca tried to breathe as he listened to the words. As he stared into Skylar’s blue eyes, for long quiet seconds his heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest it was pounding so hard.
Mercifully, the teacher asked them to lie down in final relaxation on their mats. Luca and Sky sprawled next to each other, and he reached for her hand. The teacher told them to empty their minds of thoughts, but Luca was filled with them. He tried to breathe his way through the anxiety and remind himself to focus on the moment. Not the past. Or the future.
When class ended, Skylar was in a bubbly mood. She was so tempting in her ponytail, little black shorts and matching tank top. With a breathy voice, she leaned in close to his ear.
“Want to come back to my place?”
Of course he did.
* * *
From the parking lot of her building, Skylar ran up the stairs to her condo. At the top, Luca grabbed her around the waist and pressed her into the wall.
“I don’t think I can go to yoga with you again. You were too sexy. You don’t know what it’s like to do a downward dog with a hard-on,” he groaned.
They were near the door of her elderly neighbor, and Skylar laughed, hoping no one would poke a head out and see Luca biting her neck. “That’s not very mindful,” she laughed.
And yet, she felt the same way. It had been difficult to concentrate during class because he looked so masculine and strong when in a handstand, his triceps hard and sculpted. But she was trying to approach tonight with a cool, even head and not through the prism of lust. It had been so intense practicing with him, but she reined in her emotions now that they were at her condo.
They kissed as they walked down the interior corridor, tumbling inside her apartment. She flicked on a light.
“Where did you learn yoga? You were really good,” she said while locking the door. Her question stopped him from nibbling on her neck.
“I’ve traveled a lot. I…I spent three months in India at an ashram about nine months ago.”
Interesting. So, he’d done that after his parents died? When was he going to tell her? Sky wondered if now was the time to ask him about the tragedy of his family. She opened her mouth, but he spoke first.
“I’m kind of sweaty. Let’s shower together.”
He pressed her against the door and gave her a long, sensual kiss. He undid her ponytail and threaded his fingers through her hair.
“Wait—,” she said, wriggling her head from his lips. “I want to ask you something else.”
He mmm-hmmed in response and kissed the palm of her hand, then dotted her arm with kisses, which tickled.
“I thought you didn’t like bars. Didn’t feel comfortable in them. Why did you show up at Bacchus last night?”
Flashing a sly smile, Luca shrugged. “To kiss you.”
“You wanted to kiss me, or you wanted to see who I was with?” Sky asked.
He backed up and held his hand out, pushing the air with his palm. “Relax, Skylar. Maybe a little of both.”
She wasn’t sure what to make of his answer. She also wasn’t sure if she liked his possessiveness. Or maybe she did, and that didn’t sit well with her, either.
“Why would you care who I was with if you made it clear that you weren’t interested in a relationship?” Sky asked.
Luca stepped back about a foot, biting his lip. “Skylar, I do care who you’re with. You wanted me to be with just you, right? I just don’t want to talk about our situation, about us. It’s easier this way.”
“Easier for you, maybe.”
“It’s not easy for me,” Luca said, his eyes downcast.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“Doing what?” Luca asked, shaking his head.
“This…these…sexy things. Like last night at the bar. No one’s ever treated me that way,” Skylar said. She wasn’t sure if she was complaining.
They stared at each other. She couldn’t read his expression.
“A physical relationship is all I’m capable of, Sky. I can’t give you anything more right now because it’s so complicated. I can’t give you a future.”
Well, that hurts. Even if he’d said as much before, a lump of sadness welled up in her chest. She didn’t like it underlined. Though, she supposed she was pushing. But she couldn’t help herself. Pushing, questioning, was second nature.
“Complicated how? You seem pretty perfect to me.”
Luca shook his head and looked at her with anguish. “Skylar, please. No questions. Please.”
“What if I want a future? What if I need one?”
Luca reached out with his hand, and his index finger slowly brushed a wisp of hair out of her face. His previous words and that one tender move broke her resolve to demand more answers. Hadn’t she already agreed to his terms?
She pulled him into the bathroom and shut the door, reminding herself for the millionth time that this was a casual fling and it would lead to nothing, no matter how much she wanted it to. And, hadn’t she said yes to that? Wasn’t she mature enough to take this for what it was, assuming they were both straightforward with each other? Maybe she was only good for sex and nothing else. At least James was wrong and she was good for that.
Turning on the shower and testing the water for warmth, her mood was melancholy. When was she going to take control of her own pleasure? When would she stop allowing a man to dictate when, where and how she enjoyed herself sexually? Maybe now was that time. Maybe Emily was right. Maybe Luca did have a purpose in her life: to show her that she could enjoy sex without strings, without emotions. That’s what he wanted, so why couldn’t she as well?
She roughly pulled his shirt over his head and yanked his shorts and briefs down. Pure carnal contact and nothing more—that’s what she wanted. The encounter in the bar the previous night and his sensual yoga moves had left her craving his body. Enough with feelings.
No. She couldn’t convince herself. She wouldn’t have sex tonight. That was still out of her comfort zone. She felt weak and powerless, almost as much as when she’d been with James. That was silly, perhaps, because Luca had been nothing but respectful, so maybe she should allow herself to go a little further with him, explore other things that she had been afraid of doing. Just to see if she could without an explosion of emotion.
Luca tried to kiss her, but Skylar shook her head and led him into the shower. He tried kissing her again, but she shifted away.
“No. Let me do what I want with you,” she said, pouring jasmine-scented bath soap into her hand. She ran sudsy hands over Luca’s chest, caressing his arms, the ridges of his stomach and finally his stunning erection.
He tilted his head back and let the water run over his forehead and dark hair while she knelt down. Her eyes turned upward, and the look of surprise and sheer pleasure on Luca’s face was so satisfying that she vowed to enjoy him and his body as long as she could.
She licked and teased and sucked. Luca gasped and steadied himself with one hand on the tiled wall and the other on the shower door. It made Skylar feel powerful to turn him on so much. James had always been lukewarm when she tried to take charge in this way, and he’d said she had bad technique when she went down on him. From the sound of Luca’s moans, he obviously didn’t think her technique was bad.
Gently touching her wet head, Luca looked down at her. “My God, you’re amazing.”
She opened her throat wide to take him in, and squeezed his thighs with her hands. She wanted to give him an orgasm that sliced into his heart the way her own had the other night in his apartment. He let out a long, exhaled groan, cupping the back of her head with his hand. Then he came in long pulses, and Skylar swallowed everything.
She slid up his body and kissed him, hard. He leaned against the tile of the shower and reached for her, his hands shaking before they touched her face.
“You’re going to destroy me, amore mio.”
* * *
Skylar woke up looking like a sleepy
kitten, and Luca turned to brush her messy hair from her face so he could kiss her skin.
“Mmm, how long have you been up?” she asked, burrowing into the covers and pillow. Her voice sounded gravelly and tired. They had been up late talking about everything from the new Dr. Who series to debating whether Wikileaks or Woodward and Bernstein had more of an impact on American history. He had also given her two orgasms with his fingers, but she’d stopped him from tasting her, which drove him wild with pent-up need.
“For about an hour. Since the sun came up.”
It was seven in the morning. He was sitting in Skylar’s bed reading one of her books. In Cold Blood by Truman Capote. Something he’d always wanted to read.
She peeled back the sheet and duvet and made her way to the bathroom. “Great book. Wanna borrow it?”
“I’d love to, thanks,” Luca said, calling after her, captivated by her naked ass.
When she came back into the bedroom they kissed. She tasted like mint and smelled like the orange blossom perfume that he loved. Luca shut the book, setting it on the nightstand, then kissed her more. He was hard again. What he really wanted was to make love to her, but he didn’t want to pressure her. She was close, so close, to letting her guard down. He wondered if he would be in love with her by the time she did.
The thought stunned him. Could he be falling in love? Did love happen just like that—when one least expected it, at the worst possible moment?
“Hey,” he whispered. “You didn’t let me reciprocate last night.”
She smiled. “You did. I love when you touch me.”
“But I want to taste you. Please?”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Wait. Let me take this off,” she said, wriggling out of her tank top. He practically dove for her breasts, sucking on one nipple until it tightened in his mouth then turning his attention to the other as she made little moaning noises.
“My panties. Off.”