Prosecco and Peonies

by SJ McCoy

  He stepped closer. The way the air seemed to crackle between them told her in no uncertain terms that, no matter what he was about to say, his body, like hers, wanted to go somewhere with a bed.

  “The way I see it, we have three options. I could take you back to your cabin. You could come and see my place, or we could go for a walk.”

  She nodded slowly. “How about you take me back to the cabin, and we can walk on the beach?” It seemed the best option for now. If she agreed to go to his place, they both knew what it meant. She liked the idea of a walk with him. And going back to the cabin delayed the question of whether they’d spend the night together. He could still go home.

  He nodded back at her and leaned the weight of his body against her. It felt so good. He had her pressed up against the car, and she slid her arms up around his neck, afraid she might melt to the ground if she didn’t hang on.

  He lowered his head and nibbled her neck, making her moan and press her hips against him.

  He straightened up and looked down into her eyes. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

  Her breath was coming slow and shallow. “It’s okay.”

  He smiled. “It is?”

  She nodded as a smile spread across her face. “It is. Part of me wants to drag you into the back seat right now.”

  He chuckled and looked around the quiet street. “I could be persuaded.”

  “Me too, but I think we should stick with the rules.”

  “What rules?”

  “We’re two people who are just getting to know each other, right? I would never jump in the back seat of a car with a guy on a first date.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. Would you invite a guy back to your place?”

  She gave him a sassy smile. “Maybe. If I really liked him and I felt safe with him.”

  “You’re safe with me.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  He ran his finger down her cheek. “So, are you saying you might be open to persuasion?”

  She bit her bottom lip as he trailed his finger on down over her throat and between her breasts.

  She nodded again. “I am, but only if we go now. Otherwise, the back seat is calling.”

  He laughed and stood back, gesturing for her to get in the car.

  When they got back to the cabin, she took him by the hand and led him around to the front deck. He followed with a puzzled look.

  “If we go inside, we both know what’s going to happen, and I want that walk first.”

  He smiled and slid his arm around her shoulders. “Okay, then, let’s walk.”

  The lake was as beautiful in the moonlight as it was in the sunshine, perhaps more so. Moonbeams sparkled on the rippling waves, and everything else was still.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “A month now.”

  She nodded. “And I probably shouldn’t ask, but how long do you think you’ll stay?”

  He stopped walking and turned to face her. “That’s entirely up to you.”

  She looked up into his eyes. “How?”

  “Because I plan to say here until you ask me if I want to move back to Napa.”

  She sucked in a deep breath. “Wow. That’s a lot of responsibility to put on me.”

  He shook his head rapidly. “No. Not at all. It’s not responsibility; it’s freedom of choice. If you don’t want me to move back there, then I won’t. If you do, I will. It’s not like I want to be there but would stay away if you told me to. The reason I want to be there is because I want to be with you.”

  She rested her head against his chest, and she could feel his heart thundering through his shirt.

  “I don’t like that.”

  He tucked his thumb under her chin and made her look up at him. “Why? I was trying to do right by you.”

  “I know. I get what you’re trying to do, but I don’t like it.”

  “Why not?” He looked so worried, she smiled.

  “Don’t look like that. What I mean is that I can’t ask you to come back there for me when we don’t know how things might turn out between us. I think you should come back anyway, and we can figure it out there.”

  His smile lit up his face. “You do?”

  “I do. I know you said earlier that if I met a guy and things worked out between us, he might move to Napa to be with me, but I don’t want to wait until we know if it’s going to work out. I want you to come.”

  “Okay. Then I’ll come. I’ll come back next weekend.”

  “Are you sure? What about your house here and your friends?”

  He smiled. “I bought the house. It’s not like I have a lease to get out of or anything.”

  “Wow. I guess the cryptocurrency thing is doing well for you.”

  “It is. Very well.”

  “And what will you do in Napa?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll find a place.”

  Molly frowned. “Won’t you live on the estate?”

  “No. Mom and Dad gave it to Antonio when he and Mary Ellen got married.”

  “Oh! Wow! How do you feel about that?” She couldn’t imagine he was happy about it. The Di Giovanni estate was surely part of the family legacy he talked about. She knew he loved the place—but then he’d left it when he left her.

  “I think it’s perfect. And don’t worry, you don’t need to feel bad for me. It was my idea. I suggested it.”

  “Why? It doesn’t fit with you—or at least not with the you I knew.”

  He smiled. “I told you. I’m not the same stupid boy I was. Antonio has made the place, the label, the wines what they are today. He’s built it all. It’s his. I’ve had no part in it, and I don’t want to lay claim to something I didn’t build.”

  That made sense; she could understand that.

  He looked deep into her eyes. “I hope that I’ll be able to come back there and build something that we can share.”

  Molly nodded. She didn’t know what to say. That was what she’d believed would happen twelve years ago.

  He nodded sadly. “I know you don’t trust me yet. I can’t blame you. That’s why I wanted to stay away until you do. I want to come back there to build a life for us, not just come back and build a life. You’re my reason to be there.”

  She shook he head. “No. That’s not my responsibility. You can’t put it all on me. If you want to come back, do it because you want to be there.”

  He smiled. “Okay. I will. But you’re the reason I want to be there, and if you decide you don’t want me, then you tell me to go, and I will.”

  She cupped his face between her hands and pulled him down to kiss her. She didn’t want to think about it all or talk about it all. She wanted to get back to enjoying being together again. They needed to have some fun and spend time just being before they could know if there was any reason for them to get into discussing where he should live and why.

  It started out as a distraction; kissing was better than talking. But it soon became more than that. His kiss became more passionate, more demanding, and she matched him. She pressed her body against him, and his arms tightened around her, crushing her to his chest. His mouth claimed hers. She opened up to him and kissed him back, exploring him, relearning the way their lips fit together, and their tongues mated as if they’d never been apart.

  He slid one hand down over her ass and pressed his hips against her. His erection pressed into her belly, making her wish she were taller. She broke away from the kiss. “I want you, Marcos.”

  His eyes were dark with lust, but he shook his head slowly. “Are you sure? Is it too soon?”

  She let out a short laugh. “Probably, but I don’t care. I want you. I’ve dreamed about making love to you again for years.”

  He took hold of her hand and started walking back up the beach to the cabin. “I’ve dreamed about it, too, Molly. But I can wait if that’s better.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, right! That’s why y
ou’re marching me back up there.”

  He hung his head and gave her a shame-faced smile—and didn’t break his pace to do so. “If you want to wait, I can wait. But I don’t want to.”

  “Good, because neither do I.”

  When they reached the cabin, she unlocked the door with shaking hands, and Marcos pushed it open. As soon as they were inside, he backed her against the wall and reclaimed her mouth in a kiss even more passionate than before. He was making love to her mouth with his tongue. The thought turned her on. She grasped his ass and started moving him against her, loving the feel of him pressing into her.

  He pulled back and took her hand again. “The bed.” He nodded and blew out a big sigh. “After all these years, I think we should wait the few extra minutes it will take to get to the bed and get undressed.”

  Molly nodded and closed the bedroom door behind them before she started pulling his T-shirt up and over his head. “I agree. As long as it doesn’t take more than two minutes.”

  He chuckled and eyed her T-shirt. “Don’t worry, it won’t.” He pulled her shirt up and off, and shivers ran down her spine as he fixed his gaze on her breasts.

  “Hold on.” She managed to get his jeans unfastened and started to push them down before he unfastened her bra. She knew time would pause for a while once he did that. He’d always been a breasts guy, and hers had grown since he’d last seen them.

  He stood back and let out a long, low whistle as he closed his hands around them. “Hello, ladies. Have I missed you?! And I hope it’s not rude of me to say, but you look like you’ve gained some weight.”

  Electric shocks went zapping through her from the place where his big, warm hands closed around her heavy breasts, straight to the warm place between her legs that was hoping it, too, would get some of his attention soon.

  ~ ~ ~

  Marcos closed his eyes and savored the feel of her breasts in his hands. He wasn’t joking when he’d said he’d dreamed about this moment—and the answer to his question was yes, he had thought about her breasts, about every naked inch of her in the years since they’d been together. Now she was here. Not only was she here, but she was almost naked, and she was pushing at his boxers trying to get him naked too. In a matter of moments, their clothes were gone, and he managed to lay her down gently on the bed. It was tough, but he resisted the need to throw her down and take her the way he wanted to. This was the first time—hopefully, their last first time. He wanted to make it special.

  He chuckled to himself as she rolled on top of him. Her dark hair fanned out over his chest as she kissed him, working her way down his stomach to … no! He hooked his hands under her arms and pulled her back up. “You know I can’t, Molly. You first. It’s always you first.”

  She smiled and sat up. She was so damned beautiful it took his breath away. Her eyes were shining, her hair all mussed up, her breasts leaning toward him as she leaned in to kiss him again—on the mouth this time. “You’d better hurry up about it then.” She knelt and reached down between her legs, closing her fingers around him and guiding him toward her. He closed his eyes. If she wanted to ride him, who was he to argue?

  She stroked herself with the tip of him, making them both sigh. He closed his hands around her hips and lifted her to receive him. Then, with one thrust of his hips, he was inside her, back inside the tight, velvety wetness that haunted so many of his dreams. She gasped and began to ride him wildy. There was no question that this would be slow, leisurely love-making. This wasn’t about getting to know each other again in the most intimate way. No. It was frantic, almost desperate melding of two bodies and souls who had been away from each other for far too long—who had starved and almost died without the other.

  He hung on to her hips and thrust up to meet her over and over again, reaching deeper inside her each time she closed around him. He was mesmerized watching her heavy breasts bounce just above his face. He wanted to touch them, to lick, to suck, but all he could do was go along on the wild ride that was hurtling both too quickly toward its inevitable conclusion.

  “Marcos!” she gasped as he felt her tighten around him. “Marcos. I … I … Oh, yes! Yes!”

  He felt her orgasm take her and drove deeper, determined to give her all she could take. He closed his eyes as she clenched him tight until he surrendered and wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him. Their bodies melded into one as they reached their crescendo and then finally she slumped down on his shoulder, breathing hard.

  “Wow,” she muttered next to his ear.

  “Wow,” he agreed, closing his arms around her. “You haven’t lost your touch.” As he said it, it made him wish he hadn’t. It made him wonder how she’d stayed so good—who she might have stayed in practice with over the years.

  She lifted her head and looked down into his eyes. “It must be muscle memory. I haven’t done this in a long time.”

  That reassured him a little—even though he had no right to feel the way he did. How could he feel possessive or jealous of her past when he was the one who’d left her—and married someone else?

  She was still looking at him, and he could tell she was feeling the same way he was. He wanted to reassure her somehow. “Me neither, it’s been years.”

  She scowled and rolled off him, getting up and disappearing into the bathroom before he had a chance to say anything else. Damn!

  When she came out, she smiled, but he could tell the closeness he’d hoped they’d share after their lovemaking wasn’t going to be possible. He smiled back and went into the bathroom himself. He wasn’t sure if it was to give her a few moments, or him.

  When he came back out, she wasn’t in the bedroom. He pulled on his boxers and went out to the great room. She wasn’t there either, but he could see her sitting out on the deck, wrapped in a blanket. He went to the fridge and was pleased to see a fresh bottle of prosecco sitting there. He took it and two glasses out to the deck and smiled at her. “Mind if I join you?”

  She shook her head but didn’t speak.

  He poured two glasses and handed one to her.

  She took it and took a sip and then looked up at him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted like that, but Marcos, please don’t lie to me.”

  He sat back as if she’d slapped him. “Lie? I would never lie to you.”

  She blew out an angry sigh. “I’m not stupid. You’ve only been divorced for six months, and you just said you hadn’t had sex for years. I don’t like thinking about you with your wife, but don’t insult me by lying.”

  He pursed his lips and waited a moment. He supposed it was a fair assumption. He guessed it was normal to assume that married people had sex with their spouse. “I can see why you’d think it, but I didn’t lie to you. Yes, up until six months ago, I was still married. But I hadn’t had a marriage for at least two years before that. I didn’t have sex with Caterina in that time because she was too busy having sex with my former friend, Lorenzo.” It didn’t feel good to admit that. It made him feel like less of a man. But that wasn’t the important issue here. What was important was that he should be totally transparent with Molly.

  She was transparent with him. She looked so sad. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  He smiled. “How could you? It’s not something I talked about to anyone. Caterina isn’t something I feel we want to talk about too much, but if you have any questions, go ahead and ask them. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  She shook her head. “I really don’t want to know. Its none of my business.”

  “That’s how I thought you felt, but do me a favor? If there’s anything you want to know or anything you assume about her and me, just ask. There’s nothing to hide and nothing that would make you feel bad to know.”

  She nodded and stared out at the lake for a few moments before taking a sip of her prosecco. “Were you unhappy?”

  He nodded. “Miserable. It was a mistake, and we both knew it from very early on.
But she married me for the same reasons I married her—we were a good match in terms of social standing. We were suitable.” He shook his head. “But she wasn’t you.”

  “What changed your mind about building the family legacy and all that?”

  “I realized just how empty it was—it is. None of that means anything. What’s important is being with the person you love and making each other happy. When you die, all the other stuff means nothing. This life isn’t about building an empire or amassing a fortune or continuing a family name. It’s about living well, being happy and making the people you care about happy. Caterina and I were well suited in everything that doesn’t matter—and not suited at all for anything that does.”

  Chapter Seven

  Molly opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. It wasn’t her ceiling. It was tongue and groove, knotty pine. She frowned and closed her eyes again. She figured out where she was when she felt warm breath on the back of her neck and an arm around her waist.

  “Good morning.”

  She smiled and let the warm feeling wash over her. Marcos was here. It wasn’t a dream. She was at Summer Lake—and so was he, right here in bed with her. She turned over and landed a kiss on his lips. He rewarded her with a surprised, happy smile.

  “It is a good morning,” she said. “A very good morning. In fact, it’s the best morning I’ve had in twelve years.”

  He brushed her hair away from her face. “It is for me, too. I’ve hardly slept.”

  “Oh, no! Why? I don’t snore, do I?”

  He laughed. “No, you don’t. You do make these cute little noises when you turn over, but you don’t snore.”

  “That’s a relief, but why—”

  He landed a kiss on her lips. “I couldn’t sleep because I’m so damned happy. I couldn’t believe you were lying right here next to me. I didn’t want to miss a minute of it.”

  “You’re too sweet.”

  “I’m not sweet. It’s true. I didn’t want to close my eyes. I wanted to make up for all the nights I didn’t get to spend with you.”