by Lynsay Sands
“Food poisoning,” Parker insisted firmly. “And the time before that, she made chocolate chip and bacon cookies.”
“No, I didn’t,” she said quickly, knowing her cheeks were probably red as apples now. “There was no bacon in them.”
“No, there wasn’t,” Parker agreed. “But you made them with bacon grease. They were disgusting.”
“It was the only fat I had,” Pet said defensively, but could feel herself heating up even more. If her face wasn’t cherry red now, she’d be surprised.
When Parker turned his head and arched one of his little supercilious eyebrows at her, she grimaced and glanced to Santo as she explained, “My sister, Quinn, is always on some diet or other. All she ever has in the house is green stuff. I wanted to make Parker cookies, but of course there was no butter. Not even margarine or shortening. The only fat in the house was the bacon I’d brought with me for Sunday breakfast, so . . .” She left the sentence unfinished and shrugged helplessly.
“So you fried the bacon and used the leftover grease to make cookies?” Santo guessed.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Pet said defensively and then wrinkled her nose and added, “Mind you that was on a Saturday night after two or three glasses of wine.”
“It wasn’t a good idea,” Parker assured her.
“No, it wasn’t,” she agreed and then glanced to Santo and admitted, “They really were disgusting. But in my defense, that’s around the time they started that campaign claiming everything is better with bacon so I thought it was worth a try.”
“Everything doesn’t include chocolate chip cookies,” Parker said dryly, backing out of the refrigerator with the Caesar salad dressing in hand.
“Yeah, well, they put bacon on donuts now,” Pet pointed out, and then bit her lip and tried to think when she’d bought the dressing he was now scanning in search of an expiry date. Surely it hadn’t been that long ago? she thought, but sighed with resignation when he turned to her with his aha look. “What’s the expiry date?”
“June.”
“There,” she began with relief. “This is June. It’s fi—”
“Of last year,” he interrupted dryly.
“Right.” Pet sighed the word and then moved to the phone. “So . . . pizza? Again?”
“Yes, please.” Parker threw the salad dressing in the garbage under the sink and hopped out of the kitchen, headed for his room and Mrs. Wiggles.
Pet scowled at his disappearing back, and then glanced to Santo as a low chuckle rumbled from his throat. He’d been grinning since Parker had started blabbing about the chocolate chip and bacon cookies. A mistake her nephew was never going to let her forget, she was sure. Still, her humiliation was almost worth it to hear that deep rich sound, Pet decided as something inside her vibrated in response. Giving herself a shake as her call was answered, she raised her eyebrows. “So? What do you like on your pizza?”
“Whatever you normally get,” he said easily.
Pet nodded and began to speak to the waiting worker on the phone, doubling her usual order and then tripling it as her gaze slid over the huge man. It wasn’t until she hung up that Pet remembered him saying that he didn’t normally eat except for raw eggs and meat. Frowning, she started putting away her groceries, considering what she had as she did. She’d bought steaks and could cook them to feed him, she supposed.
“You look troubled,” Santo commented, moving up beside her to help put the groceries away. “What are you thinking?”
“I just remembered that you don’t eat except for meat and raw eggs,” Pet admitted as she stretched up on her tiptoes to place a can of soup on an upper shelf. “I could grill up a steak if you’d rather, or—” The offer died in her throat when his hand closed around her fingers, and then he took the can from her and set it on the shelf for her before urging her around to face him.
Pet stared at the middle of his chest until he cupped her face and lifted it so that she had to meet his gaze.
“It is very sweet of you to offer to cook for me,” Santo murmured, brushing his thumb lightly over her lower lip.
The small caress sent tingles rushing through her again, and Pet’s lips parted slightly on a small sigh. The moment they did, he slid his thumb farther forward to run between both lips, once and then twice.
“But I would rather not suffer food poisoning.”
The words were so unexpected that it took Pet’s mind a moment to register them, and then her eyes shot to his and she caught the wicked teasing grin on his face. She didn’t even think, she simply bit down on the tip of his thumb. It had been meant to punish him for teasing her, but instead the action made him burst out laughing. He also withdrew his thumb, but then he pulled her close, pressing her face to his chest as he chuckled.
Pet scowled at his amusement and drew in a breath to lambast him for his bad behavior, but then paused as his scent assailed her senses. Damn, he smelled good. She didn’t think it was a cologne or body wash. It just smelled too . . . organic. That was the only word she could think to describe it. There was nothing chemical to it, no floral undertones. He smelled clean and masculine, cool and spicy at the same time, like a walk in the woods or standing on a mountaintop with the sun beating down and a cool breeze brushing your skin at the same time. Pet inhaled deeply, unconsciously sliding her hands around his waist and pressing closer.
Pet was so distracted by her attempt to fill herself with his smell that she didn’t notice when Santo’s laughter faded and he went still. She gasped with surprise, though, when he suddenly caught her by the waist and lifted her off the floor. He turned at the same time so that he could set her down on the island counter next to the sink.
Cheeks pinkening, Pet started to open her eyes but stopped with them half open when his mouth covered hers. She then let them drift closed again. Her lips parted slightly at the gentle caress. She slid her arms around his neck and then moaned, her back arching as his tongue swept through the opening to explore what she offered.
Pet hadn’t forgotten the shattering passion she’d experienced during their first kiss in the Caprellis’ kitchen, and still she was shocked when it exploded between them again so quickly. Overwhelmed by the force of it, she tightened her arms around his neck and basically held on for dear life as his mouth devoured hers, his lips and tongue feasting on the passion they were stirring to life.
When his hand suddenly closed over one breast, kneading her through her bra and shirt, Pet groaned and arched into the caress, her bottom rising slightly off the counter. Santo immediately slid his other hand under her behind and urged her farther forward on the countertop until their lower bodies rubbed forcefully together.
Moaning at the pleasure now bouncing through her, Pet wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him tighter still, and then began to tug at his T-shirt, trying to pull it out of his jeans and drag it upward so that she could reach beneath and touch his beautiful chest. But Santo caught her hands and stopped her.
When she broke their kiss to protest, Santo growled, “Parker.”
“Oh,” Pet breathed, understanding managing to push through her passion-soaked brain. Parker. Of course. Just kisses, no clothing removal or touching. Parker could come out. She’d barely reasoned that out when Santo’s mouth found hers again. This time, though, his kiss was a gentle grazing of his lips over hers, as if he were trying to cool them both down. But when Pet’s breath slid out on a sigh in response, his mouth opened slightly as if to catch it and then moved over hers again, applying more pressure before his tongue slid out to lightly trace where her own lips barely met. Pet opened at once, inviting a return to the passionate kiss he’d first given her, and Santo gave into the request with a groan. His tongue filled her, sweeping away any common sense Pet had managed to grab ahold of.
Groaning, she pressed up and forward, the edge of the counter pressing into her upper thighs as her bottom lifted slightly so that she could get closer to him. Santo groaned again when her breasts rubbed a
gainst his chest, the sound vibrating through her mouth and then her body so that her response became almost frantic with the need it sent resonating through her. She hardly noticed when Santo shifted her hands behind her back and caught them in one of his large ones. She did notice when his now free hand then covered her breast again and squeezed before he found the nipple through the material covering it and began to rub his thumb back and forth over it.
Pet broke their kiss and threw her head back on a gasp at the fiery charges that sent through her, and Santo immediately began to lick and kiss and suck at a spot under her ear before following a path down the base of her throat, urging her to lean farther back as he went. He paused briefly when he reached the open collar of her polo shirt and then stopped toying with her nipple and reached down to drag the hem of her shirt up. Once he had the red material up above her breasts, though, he pulled back from her throat to look at what he’d revealed.
Santo’s eyes burned over the pale pink cups of her bra, the silver in his eyes growing, and Pet swallowed, feeling suddenly self-conscious. She was about to remind him that Parker could come out, when he suddenly tugged one frail cup down and lowered his head to latch onto the revealed nipple.
“Oh, God!” Pet gasped, digging her nails into the hand holding both of hers as he sucked and laved the sensitive tip by turn. She could feel his hard erection pressing against her core, the heat of it burning through the cloth of his jeans and her capris, and she couldn’t resist tightening her legs and shifting her hips to rub herself against him. The excitement that action stirred up had them both gasping and stiffening against each other, and then Santo let her nipple slip from his mouth and raised his head to claim her lips again, his tongue thrusting almost violently now, demanding a response Pet was happy to give.
When Santo suddenly released her hands to fumble blindly with the snap of her capris, Pet quickly undid it for him. She even lowered the zipper a little before he brushed her hand aside so that he could slide his fingers inside the lacy pink material of her panties and touch her. Pet gasped into his mouth at the first grazing and then cried out when one finger slid between her moist folds to explore what they hid.
“Aunt Pet! How long until the pizza comes? And can I bring Mrs. Wiggles out now?”
Ten
All Pet could think was that it was a darned good thing that immortals were fast, because while they’d heard Parker before he’d reached the kitchen, they’d only had a couple of seconds to break apart and straighten their clothes. Santo did all the straightening. In the blink of an eye, he’d removed his hand from her panties, closed the snap of her capris, though not the zipper, and tugged her top down to cover her exposed breast. He’d even moved to the side of her to turn the tap on, leaving her legs to help hide the raging erection presently trying to disprove the well-known fact that true jean material did not, in fact, stretch.
It was giving it a good try, though, Pet noted, staring down and to the side with fascination at the huge bulge in the front of his jeans. Dear God, he must be as huge there as everywhere else, she thought faintly. And he was going to have zipper prints embedded on his—
“Well?”
Blinking, Pet turned to see that her nephew had reached the kitchen. She stared at him with a mind that was completely blank of anything but Santo’s zipper print cock. “What?”
Parker heaved out a most put-upon sigh. “I asked how long until the pizza comes,” he said with exasperation. “And can I bring Mrs. Wiggles out now?”
Pet stared at him, trying to gather the remains of her scattered good sense, and then scowled. “First of all, we don’t yell in an apartment. We come out and ask in polite tones so we don’t disturb our neighbors,” she began and immediately heard some apparently much wiser voice in her head say, Oh, that’s good, Petronella. Make sure you don’t get any warning next time so that Parker gets an eyeful of you and Santo playing kiss and grope in the kitchen and is scarred for life.
Ignoring that wiser voice, Pet continued, “Second, the pizza should be here in—” She glanced at the clock on the stove, did a quick calculation, and said, “Fifteen minutes.”
“Ahhhh,” Parker groaned. “I’m hungry now.”
“And,” she continued firmly, “no, you can’t bring Mrs. Wiggles out until after the pizza delivery. I don’t want her slipping out the door when it comes.”
“Fine,” Parker huffed, turning back up the hall. “Call me when the pizza is here then.”
“Fine,” Pet huffed right back, watching until he was out of sight, and she heard his bedroom door close.
She was starting to turn back to Santo when he was suddenly in front of her, tugging her shirt back up. Eyes widening, she glanced down, but he merely pulled the cup of her bra back up to cover her breast and then tugged the hem back down again. He didn’t release it, though, she noticed. Glancing up uncertainly, she noted the struggle taking place on his face.
“I want to look at you,” Santo admitted.
Pet blinked at the confession, and then she straightened slightly and cleared her throat and simply whispered, “Okay.”
Some of the tension eased from him then, and Santo slowly lifted the hem he still held, revealing her stomach and then her breasts encased in pink lace.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, reaching out with his other hand to run his fingers lightly over the tops of the lace cups.
Pet shivered and bit her lip as goose bumps rose in the trail of his fingers, and then he suddenly grasped the top with both hands and began to tug it up. But Pet caught his hands to stop him.
“Parker,” was all she said, but it was enough.
Santo stopped, but he also frowned and then glanced around until his eyes settled on the door to her home office. “Can we go into your study?”
Pet hesitated, somewhat torn. She was still wet and aching, and she wanted him to kiss and touch her again, but—slamming the but door closed, she slid off the counter, took his hand, and led him into her office, her erect nipples pointing the way.
Santo released her hand the moment they entered the office and moved to turn on the light. He then closed the office door and turned to lean against it rather than approach her.
Pet peered at him uncertainly. “I thought you wanted to . . .” She shrugged.
“I am afraid if I touch you, I will start something we do not have time to finish,” he admitted, a small wry smile twisting his lips.
“Oh.” She shifted her feet uncertainly and then asked, “Do you want to go back out to the kitchen then?”
“No. I want to look at you,” Santo assured her, and then his deep voice dropping another octave, he said, “Take off your top for me.”
Pet bit her lip and shifted again. It was one thing for him to tug her clothes off in the midst of passion, or even for her to help him take her clothes off in the midst of passion. But it was an entirely different thing for her to give him a peep show.
Although, a bra doesn’t show any more than a bathing suit does, really, that voice that had seemed so wise just moments ago pointed out. So what’s the harm?
“Right,” Pet muttered aloud, and then rolled her eyes when she realized she had. Wasn’t talking to yourself the first sign of insanity?
Shaking her head, Pet decided to handle it like removing a bandage and rather than a slow strip tease, simply grasped the bottom of her shirt, tugged it up and then over her head and off.
“Ta-da.” It was meant to be a joke, that ta-da, but Pet’s voice caught on the words and neither of them were laughing. Santo certainly wasn’t. His eyes were filling with silver, as if liquid mercury was pouring in to cover the black. That was disconcerting enough, but not nearly as disconcerting as when he suddenly moved toward her using that immortal speed of his. One minute he was lounging lazily against the door, and the next he was just inches in front of her, and she was forced to tip her head back to meet his gaze. Pet loved his height, but seriously, sometimes it could be a pain, like now when she was sure she was going
to get a crick in her neck if she had to keep looking up at him like this, she thought, and then glanced down when he took the shirt from her limp hand.
She watched him lean past her to set it on the desk, and then turned back to face him as he suddenly dropped to his knees in front of her. This was actually nicer, Pet decided, relaxing a little. At least she wouldn’t get the crick in her neck she was worried about, she thought, and watched him look her over, his eyes traveling over every inch of exposed flesh. She could almost feel his gaze like a physical touch as it slid over her skin, and her body was responding as if he had. Her nipples hardened further, extending more, her stomach muscles rippled, and small shivers started rippling down her back. Pet bore that until she just couldn’t take it anymore, and then she reached for him.
Santo caught her hands at once, preventing her from touching him. He clasped her hands lightly, but firmly, licked his lips, and then growled, “Take off your bra.”
Pet might have balked if he hadn’t sounded so tortured, but he sounded as affected as her. So, when he released her hands, she slid them behind her back and unsnapped the bra. She hesitated then briefly, catching the ends of the bra to hold it in place, but finally made herself release them and let the flimsy cloth slide down her arms to drop on the floor between them. Pet then stood silently before him. Waiting.
Santo closed his eyes briefly as if the sight of her burned his corneas. When he opened them again, they were blazing brilliant silver with not a drop of black left. His voice was a rough growl when he said, “I want to taste you.”
Pet reached for him with relief, but again he caught her hands to stop her. Holding them out to the sides, he then leaned forward and caught one nipple between his lips. She watched it disappear into his mouth and then closed her eyes and moaned as he began to lave and suckle it. When he gave an answering moan in response, the soft hum against her sensitive nipple made her knees buckle, and she would have fallen if Santo hadn’t released her hands to quickly catch her behind the thighs. Pet clasped his head then and let her own head fall forward, her long black hair a curtain stretching down to shelter them both as he held her up and continued to devour one breast before releasing it to turn to the other. He was just about to close his lips over the tip of that excited nipple when the phone rang on the desk behind her.