Dangerous Kiss

by Michelle Love

  The receptionist hesitated, and Luca shook his head at her. “It’s okay, thanks.”

  He took Emory back to the car and drove toward the airport, his hand covering hers. He looked over. She seemed to have collected herself, but her beautiful face was red and puffy from crying. “Are you okay, baby?”

  She smiled at him. “I am now. Look, Luca, I should have known he’d try something. His track record, the fact he seemed ‘okay’ with the divorce. It was dumb of me. Can we forget it and just go and enjoy our vacation?”

  Luca touched the back of his fingers to her cheek. “You bet, sweetheart.”

  Back in the city, Ray Grace hurriedly packed a bag. He had no doubt that Luca Saffran would seek revenge for what he had done to Emory. Damn it; he’d been so close, so very close to her throat being crushed under his hands. All he’d thought about since she’d served him with those divorce papers was making sure she wouldn’t leave him.

  Now he would have to go into hiding and formulate a new plan. Now that he knew she was fucking Luca Saffran; he was even more determined.

  Emory would not see another birthday …

  Part #2: Zea

  Zea pounded the toasted spices in the mortar until she was sweating. Cardamom, fennel, coriander seeds with black pepper and allspice; she tossed the mixture with the onions and garlic she’d sweated off already.

  “Oh, dear God, that smells so good.” Teresa, one of the diner’s wait staff, came and inhaled the mixture. Zea grinned at her.

  “You never had a curry before?”

  Teresa shook her head. “I was brought up on meat and potatoes. It took until the new century for my mom to think salt and pepper weren’t a dirty bomb.”

  Zea chuckled. In the month since she’d worked here, she’d been able to persuade the owner, Amos, a kindly man in his seventies, to let her add some more exotic dishes to the diner’s menu—and to her great surprise and delight, the clientele had lapped it up. Her food was eclectic, drawn from all over the world, but always flavorful and mouth-watering.

  Teresa went back out to her customers, and Zea once again lost herself in her cooking. It had been her salvation after David’s death.

  She could remember clearly the day it happened. She’d run her catering business from home and was preparing a three-course taster menu for a client in her large kitchen. The television had been on but with the sound muted, and it was only chance that she’d glanced up at the moment when they’d shown Auburn College. Her heart had skipped as she saw SWAT trying to storm the building. Her phone had rung as she’d grabbed the remote and unmuted the sound.

  … an active shooter is still in the school and as we speak … Wait … Folks, a large group of students has just escaped from the school and run towards the edge of the grounds where we are … Wow, the scenes here are intense as terrified parents, and their kids are reunited … Excuse me, excuse, I won’t keep you a moment, sir … Are you okay? Did everybody get out?

  The reporter had grabbed a teenage boy who looked shell-shocked and utterly destroyed. Zea’s heart started banging against her ribs as she looked into the teen’s wild eyes.

  … he just started shooting, and screaming at us and telling us he was sick of all our bullshit and that he would kill every student and teacher in the place because they were all after him and …

  The reporter interrupted him … Who? .... Who is it? ....

  Zea knew. She would never understand why she knew, but her eyes followed the shape of the boy’s lips as they formed the name of her husband. David. David Azano … sweet, kind David Azano … the love of her life …

  She hadn’t realized that she was screaming until her neighbor broke down her door and came to help her.

  Zea shivered now and tried to put it to the back of her mind. Don’t dwell. She’d left Auburn a few nights later, under police protection, and had come down to Portland where she knew no one and no one knew her. The police helped arrange for her to revert quickly to her maiden name; she refused a totally new identity.

  I haven’t done anything wrong. But every day she was scared someone would recognize her, that the whispering would begin. She must have known something. But she hadn’t. David had gone to work that morning before she got up and the only thing different was that she hadn’t seen him the night before; he’d been at school late, and she had been catering and had lost track of time before falling into bed. The last thing he’d said to her was that he loved her. So corny, but it was true. A quick kiss goodbye and a “Love ya, sweetie.”

  And I love you still, she thought now. I miss you every day. That no one could give her answers was driving her mad. There were plenty of questions. Any out of character behavior? Why would he do this? How did you not notice the gun was missing?

  Easy, she thought now. The gun they kept for security was in the safe in David’s study and it hadn’t been taken out since they day they got it. Neither one of them was comfortable with it.

  The night before the shooting, when she’d gone to bed exhausted, she’d woken in the night and heard him banging around downstairs, but hadn’t thought anything of it. When they told her they thought he might have been having some drug-induced psychopathy, she had nearly laughed. David? My kind-hearted, salt-of-the-earth David, on drugs? No way.

  Zea finished the curry and left it to simmer on the stove. Teresa poked her head around the kitchen door. “They can all smell that out here and are like a pack of salivating dogs. I’ve got seven orders for it already.”

  Zea nodded. “Five minutes. Do you need a hand out there?”

  “You’re a sweetheart.”

  Zea followed Teresa back out to the diner’s main restaurant. Most of the booths were full of regulars, but in the corner sat one man she didn’t recognize. Vintage T-shirt, jeans, and a shock of dark hair. Tattoos snaked down one arm. Zea realized she was staring. “Who’s that? I don’t recognize him.”

  Teresa glanced over. “Lord, it’s Flynt Newlan. Haven’t seen him in town for years.” She frowned at Zea. “Trouble.”

  Zea rolled her eyes. “Aren’t they all?”

  She went back to check on the curry and seeing it was ready, helped Teresa serve it to the regulars. Soon, she was flushing with compliments. “Just enjoy it.” She waved her hand, laughing away her embarrassment.

  “Hey.”

  Zea stopped as she passed by Flynt Newlan’s booth and he called to her. “Yes?”

  “What is that? Smells good.”

  She studied him as she told him about the dish. He was maybe a couple of years older than her, hard-bodied, his eyes blue and piercing, hypnotic. A scruffy beard was growing in, his dark hair a mess of waves. Yeah, Zea thought, you’re beautiful, but Teresa’s right. Trouble.

  “Would you like to have a taste?” she said, then regretted it immediately as he grinned widely, the double meaning in his smile clear. Zea cursed the fact that a pulse beat excitedly between her legs. Flynt Newlan nodded slowly, and his eyes traveled over her body in a way that should have made her feel sleazy, but somehow just electrified every nerve ending in her body.

  “Like you wouldn’t believe,” he said slowly, and Zea swallowed hard. She turned on her heel and stalked back to the kitchen, and when Teresa came back, she sent her out with Flynt’s order. The last thing she needed was some cocky pretty-boy in her life.

  It was midnight before she finished cleaning the kitchen, having sent the others home early. She loved being here alone, the peace and methodical cleaning process soothed her mind. In the small apartment she went back to, the memories would crowd in, and she would end up crying herself into an uneasy sleep.

  She locked the diner’s back door and turned to walk down the small alley to the well-lit main street. Tonight, though, she turned and nearly screamed. Flynt Newlan was leaning against the opposite building, grinning at her.

  Zea stared back, trying to regulate her breathing. Neither of them said a word. Then Flynt pushed himself away from the wall and strode casually over to her.
He was so tall, she had to look up into his face … and then his lips were on hers.

  Stop.

  But her arms snaked around his neck as his tongue sought hers and a rush of desire flooded through her. His hands were on her waist, then her breasts. Zea gasped as he slid his hands under her skirt and hitched it up.

  This isn’t right …

  But as she heard him unzip his jeans, she couldn’t help but reach for his cock, finding it already rock-hard and huge for her. His fingers were pulling at her panties, and as he lifted her up, she guided him into her. God, he was enormous and as they began to move together, her gaze locked onto his steel blue stare,

  I cannot believe I’m doing this ...

  But her body was reacting like it never had before, out of need, out of desire. Who cared if ‘society’ would frown on it; Zea needed this, this blissful, hard, no-strings fuck …

  She came, moaning and shivering, biting his shoulder. Flynt gave a groan as he shot into her and his kiss was rougher then. As he extracted himself from her, he took her face in his palms and stared into her eyes. Zea couldn’t catch her breath. Then he smiled again, kissed her, and walked away without a word.

  Zea opened the door to her apartment still in a daze. Had that actually happened? The ache in her thighs, the dampness of her panties, said yes, yes, it had. She stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot spray hit her fevered body. She stroked her hand down her belly and between her legs. Her clit was still hard and ultra-sensitive and quivered as she stroked her way to another, more mellow orgasm. Maybe that’s what she needed now; meaningless but animal sex with handsome strangers. It couldn’t hurt.

  Could it?

  In a Caribbean idyll, a very naked, very turned-on Emory straddled her boyfriend of fewer than two months and grinned down at him as she guided him inside of her, moaning softly and closing her eyes as his cock sank deep into her. Luca Saffran gazed up at her as she rode him. Would he ever get enough of this beautiful, curvy woman? He didn’t think so.

  They’d spent the last two weeks loving and laughing, exploring the island, enjoying the sun and the distance from all the turmoil of the last few weeks.

  After Emory’s ex-husband Ray had attacked her shortly before they’d flown to the Caribbean, they had slowly gotten to a point where they could focus on their new relationship.

  “When we get home,” Luca had said at lunch, “I’m telling Bree about us. I know she’ll be supportive.”

  Emory had nodded. “I hope so … I hope she won’t see us together and freak out.”

  Luca chuckled. “She was the one pushing me into asking you out, so I doubt it. And anyway, she must have seen the chemistry between us.”

  Emory smiled. “It was pretty obvious.”

  “I think your doctor was a little envious. He had a bit of a crush.”

  Emory grinned. “Well, you are very handsome.”

  Luca rolled his eyes. “Not me, doofus.”

  Emory leaned over to kiss him. “Well, I’ll keep him for a spare,” and shrieked with laughter when Luca pulled her onto his lap and began to tickle her. Her bikini didn’t stay on long, and when he’d kissed every inch of her honey skin, he took her into the bedroom.

  Luca slid his hands up her thighs, stroked her belly, and cupped her generous breasts in his hands. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said now as she moved up and down his cock. She smiled down at him, her dark hair falling softly over one shoulder.

  He watched as his cock slid in and out of her delicious cunt, the long shaft of him thick and pulsating. The feel of her velvety sex, the muscles of her clenching his length, her hips moving quicker now as they grew more heated and excited. Luca felt himself peak and his muscles clenched as he came, his hands gripping the soft flesh of her hips, keeping her impaled as he pumped thick, creamy cum deep inside her. Emory was trembling through her own orgasm, and he loved to watch the scarlet flush spread across her skin as she came.

  She finally collapsed beside him, laughing softly as she caught her breath. “Luca Saffran, you are my undoing.”

  He laughed. “Right back at ya. Listen …” He propped himself up on his elbow and look down at her. “Not that I want to burst our Caribbean bubble, but we need to talk about when we get back to Seattle.”

  Emory nodded. “I know … I think telling Bree is probably the priority.”

  Luca hesitated. “Well, actually, I meant our living arrangements.”

  Emory looked taken aback. She pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Luca … Your generosity has been boundless, but I think it’s too soon for that. And I need to start to look for my own place.”

  Luca was silent, and she touched his cheek. “We are both newly divorced, honey, and God help me, I don’t want to rush into something and ruin this. You mean too much to me.”

  Luca took her face in his palms. “Emory, what I feel for you, I don’t know if I can express it. I’ve never felt this way, not even with Clem.”

  Emory had tears in her eyes, but she smiled. “Probably best not to tell Bree that; she might object.”

  Luca pulled her back into his arms, and they began again where they had left off.

  Outside their villa, the photographer got another few shots of the couple as they made love, totally unaware of his scrutiny. They’d given him quite the show, he thought with a grin, and the girl was stunning. He didn’t recognize her, but the guy—no one could mistake the rugged features and firm jaw of Luca Saffran. These pictures would make him rich, even after Ray Grace had taken what he needed.

  Zea went to work the next day, both excited and nauseous. Excited at the prospect of another hookup with Flynt Newlan, but also sick at the thought of seeing him again. What had she been thinking, fucking a stranger in a dark alley? That wasn’t like her at all; she had even made David wait three weeks when they had started dating. But David, God rest his soul, had been the polar opposite of Flynt. The comparison almost made her laugh out loud as she went into the kitchen and hung up her coat.

  Felicity, another waitress who she liked very much, stuck her head in the kitchen door. “Oh, good, you’re here. Some guy is asking for you.”

  Flynt. Zea’s heart began thump uncomfortably in her chest as she followed Felicity out into the diner but slowed in disappointment. No Flynt. Felicity nodded to a man sitting in the far booth. Zea didn’t recognize him—at least, she didn’t recognize the back of his head as she approached. God, she hoped it wasn’t a reporter; she liked her life here.

  “Excuse me?”

  The man turned, and for a moment Zea’s entire body went cold. David. He looked so much like her dead husband; she couldn’t breathe. He smiled at her.

  “Hello there, Zea? I’m Jared Podesta.” He held out his hand, and she shook it.

  “Zea Azano.” She completely forgot to use her maiden name; such was her shock.

  His eyes opened wider for a second. Zea frowned at him. “Is there something wrong?”

  Jared shook his head. “No … I’m sorry, it’s just … I came to Portland to see you about David Azano, but I was told you went by a different name now. It’s a shock to hear his name is all.”

  Hearing David’s name on the lips of this lookalike stranger was like a sledgehammer to the chest, and she could feel the blood drain out of her face.

  “Hey.” Jared was holding her elbow now, his face a mask of concern. “Are you okay?”

  Zea suddenly couldn’t breathe and for the second time in twenty-four hours; she found herself in a stranger’s arms as he swept her into a chair.

  “Put your head down. Take deep breaths.” His hands were on her shoulders. Zea did as he asked, but after a few moments, she looked up.

  “If you’re a reporter, I don’t know how you found me, but there’s no way I’m talking to you.”

  Jared rocked back a little. “What? Reporter? No, that’s … I’m not a reporter, Zea.”

  Zea sighed. “What do you want, Mr. Podesta?”

 
He stood, pulled up a chair next to her, and sat, his body slumping. “I came to find out about David, Zea. I haven’t been in the country, but I heard about what happened at his school. I had to come see if you were okay.” He dropped his head into his hands.

  Zea was even more confused. “Who are you? How do you know David?”

  He looked up, eyes red and stricken. “He’s my brother, Zea. I came here to find out about my brother.”

  Zea closed the door to her home. Jared stood in her hallway. He’d driven her back to her apartment so they could talk privately and now he was here. David’s brother. His brother. She knew the shock she felt was still visible on her face. Jared cocked his head to one side and smiled ruefully.

  “I’m sorry to have blurted it out like that, but honestly, I couldn’t think of a way to dress it up.”

  “Please, come through.” She started to move towards the kitchen. “Can I get you some coffee?”

  Jared smiled. “That’d be great.” He stopped at the occasional table. He picked up a heavy stone picture frame. Zea and David’s wedding day. Zea swallowed, feeling her chest constricting. Jared looked up from the photo and smiled at her.

  “You were a beautiful bride.”

  “Thank you.” Zea’s voice was scratchy. She went into the kitchen to make coffee. She heard him put the picture frame down and follow her. She saw him look around the kitchen, taking in the few pieces of furniture she’d brought with her. The bookshelves overstuffed with cookbooks and folders of recipes. The large, heavy oak table, pitted and ringed from years of use. The huge refrigerator covered with photos, letters, magnets.

  Jared picked up a couple of paperbacks she’d left on the table and flicked through them, a crime novel Teresa had loaned to her, and a self-help book that an overly familiar customer had given her. Zea flushed at Jared’s raised eyebrows at that one.