Red Hot Lovers: 18 Contemporary Romance Books of Love, Passion, and Sexy Heroes by Your Favorite Top-Selling Authors

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Red Hot Lovers: 18 Contemporary Romance Books of Love, Passion, and Sexy Heroes by Your Favorite Top-Selling Authors Page 276

by Milly Taiden


  “Poseidon, Athena, Hades—“ Giovanni spun her to face him, crossing his legs Indian-style beneath her bottom. She wrapped her legs loosely around his hips, crossing her ankles behind his back. Tracy could not contain her giggles while discretely arranging the hem of her dress as he continued in a sinfully rich melodious voice that made her toes curl, “Cronus, Hera, Aphrodite…”

  “Oh my God, I’m doomed. Stop! It’s like foreplay,” she gasped through another round of laughter. Tracy reached for her glass, using it to cover her face, which burned from embarrassment. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

  Giovanni intervened, removing the wine from her hands. “You should allow the wine to rest for a moment.”

  “You’re right. That stuff is like…like truth serum or something.”

  Their conversation continued as the night grew darker, illuminating the heavens above. Giovanni pointed out every visible constellation. They shared details of fabled myths, Gods and creatures. Each listened intently, sucked into the other’s stories. He didn’t need to make an effort to be appealing. His voice lured her closer and she hung on every drawn out Italian syllable.

  Tracy found his natural expressions and sarcastic humor captivatingly sexy. Giovanni played mindlessly with her fingers. The tips of his fingers keyed along the delicate pale skin near her wrists, each whisper of a stroke made her breath quicken.

  Their words fell silent.

  Feeling a slight buzz from the wine, she swayed to the distant music. Tracy took a deep cleansing breath and let her lids drift shut. Absorbed in the stillness of their surroundings, she tilting her head, listening to sounds of his husky exhales. Giovanni raised their hands to the space between their chests, palm to palm. Energy and heat simmered at the connections of their skin. Her chest tightened around the unusual feeling of warmth.

  Giovanni reached behind her nape, searching through the long layers of dark hair. She felt a gentle tug on the ribbon of her mask. Tracy’s eyes popped open and she drew in a hissing breath. “Wait.”

  “No?” he questioned.

  “Do you mind if we…can we take them off…later?” As the words slipped from her lips, she wondered what she meant by later. If she’d been thinking rationally, she would’ve phrased it differently, but the wine seemed to be clouding her common sense.

  “Si`, if that is what you would like?” He said slowly, choosing his words carefully.

  Did I just offer to have sex with him? Her gaze dropped to her lap, blinking repeatedly replaying her exact wording.

  Catching the underside of her chin with the crook of his finger, he assured in a quiet tone as if he were reading her thoughts, “We can take them off later…if that is what you would like. Or we don’t have to take them off at all. That is up to you.”

  Dear God, I did just offer to have sex with him. Her morals started to unravel as her gaze traveled down his shirt front one button at a time. Wild images of what lay beneath the fine fabric of his dress shirt sent a jolt of heat to her—

  He made a quiet sound of amusement. “Or we could simply leave them on later. They are very…mysterious.” He rolled the r with the most sensual undertone she’d ever heard in her life.

  Spasms scattered, reaching deep inside to a tender vulnerable place. Tracy trembled all over. She was unsure if they were from nerves, desire, trepidation or all of the above.

  Unfortunately, the tremors rolling though her limbs were not transparent. Giovanni took note of her discomfiture, rubbing the length of her arms for warmth. “You’re shaking, Amore Mio.”

  “It’s just…I’m not…I don’t—“ Tracy rolled her eyes in frustration at her silly stammering. Reaching for the glass of wine, she slid the stem between two fingers and took a swallow. “I’ve never taken my mask off on a first date.”

  The rubbing came to a halt.

  Their gaze met and held. His eyes opened wide with understanding, turning his brilliant grey irises silver in the moonlight. Tracy squirmed a little under the long sizzling stare.

  Giovanni lifted her with ease. He eased back, guiding them toward the ground. Tracy lurched forward a little, remaining rigid and sitting upright. Her heart pounded violently, unsure of what he was suggesting. His hand moved up and down her spine, relaxing the tension, one vertebra at a time.

  “Mask on,” he assured. A smile colored his voice. “I only wanted to gaze at the stars.”

  “Oh, of course.” Regret simmered in her voice, drowning out the thrashing of her heart. The words of her sister registered in her thoughts. Just go for it.

  The idea of being spontaneous was foreign to Tracy. She could easily make a list of reasons why she should stumble to her feet and head back to the reception, but the spicy flavor of his mouth made her want more.

  Tracy eased back on her side, resting her head in the crook of his arm. His bicep formed the perfect pillow beneath her cheek. It felt odd to feel so content snuggled next to a man she barely knew, yet she sensed such a strong bond with him. She’d never felt this calm around a man in all her life. The only time she’d ever been this comfortable was with her family…or in a classroom.

  They finished off the bottle of wine between intellectual conversations and several slow, heat-filled kisses. The music stopped and sounds of the reception began to fade. She had no idea how long they’d been gone, but one thing she knew for certain, Tracy didn’t want the night to end.

  “It’s empty?” She stated in astonishment draining the last drop of the dark red liquid from her glass.

  “And?” Giovanni elongated the word hunting for a compliment.

  “And it’s the best wine I’ve ever tasted.”

  He extended his hand assisting her to her feet. “That is because it is the best wine in Italy. My—“.

  Tracy staggered and Giovanni latched onto her. His fingers spread wide around her waist and ribs, securing her against his chest. She let out a shaky giggle. “I don’t know anything about the best wines in Italy, but this definitely qualifies as one of my best dates. Okay…maybe the best date ever,” she slurred.

  The wine hitting on all points, she let out a small giddy squeak as he encircled his arms around her. He stared at her steadily, a smile wedging at the corner of his mouth. His hand swept over her hair, delving through the loose tresses. Tracy tucked her arms between them, laying her cheek on his chest. They swayed to the melody of the sea, soaking up the bliss and tranquility of the moment. God he smells delicious.

  Giovanni pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We should go, so your sister doesn’t worry.”

  Tracy nodded begrudgingly. She held to him for balance as they tottered toward the boulders. He ditched the empty bottle and glasses in a trashcan next to a bench at the base. Giovanni helped her scramble up the boulders. The powerful grip of his hand on her bare arm as he pointed out footholds stirred thoughts of desire deep within her. Every placement of his hand sparked arousal, marking her flesh with his warmth, stirring intense thoughts of desire.

  Halfway up the hill, she turned to face him. She dragged her hands over the soft spikes of his buzz cut hair, fingering through the short layers on the top. Tracy gripped his skull and planted a kiss firmly on his lips.

  His smile broadened beneath the kiss and a throaty laugh escaped his lungs. “Maybe we should wait till we get over the boulders.”

  She flushed all over, shaking her head in complaint. This only provoked another smothered chuckle from Giovanni. He pointed onward, remaining behind her as they trudged their way to the top.

  “You’re right. We really shouldn’t be drinking and climbing,” she chortled playfully.

  Reaching the end of the trail, Giovanni leapt from the last ledge and stretched out his arms, offering assistance. Tracy swirled her finger, gesturing for him to spin around. He turned, gladly offering her his back for a piggyback ride. She hopped on, draping her arms over his shoulders and molding her breasts to his back.

  Giovanni hinged at the waist, careful so not to drop her, and gathered thei
r belongings from the ground. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she hooked the band of her heels through her fingers. Her feet dangled wantonly, touching against his legs. She remained quiet on the trail, distracted by the feel of his obliques contracting beneath her thighs with every step.

  Giovanni stopped near the wall and Tracy dumped her heels and bag to the sandy ground. Squirming sideways, she finessed her way to his hip and pressed a long kiss to his neck.

  Unwrapping herself from the hard confines of his body, she pointed her toes toward the ground and lowered herself from his waist. The eyelet hem at the back of her dress snagged on his pants, catching between her legs. As she continued to slide down his body, the fabric of her dress cinched between her thighs. It tugged on her top between the blades of her shoulders, exposing her back and threatening to take her strapless bra with it.

  “Shoot.” She squealed grasping hold of the cotton material covering her breasts before it slipped to her midriff. “I’m stuck…my dress is caught on something.”

  In a stealth-like manner, his arm swung behind her, curling his strong hand beneath her for support. Giovanni inadvertently grasped her bare ass, slipping his fingertips beyond the edge of her no-show skimpy panties.

  Tracy gasped in surprise.

  “Scusi,” his apology broke in a sharp inhale.

  Giovanni lifted and maneuvered her to the top of his thigh, fingers gripping close to her erogenous zone. Her body reacted with a quick contracting twitch to the maidenly divine pressure. Clinging to his neck with one hand, Tracy’s breath turned ragged. She could barely speak, working to unlatch her dress from his pants. Each small movement unlocked a new craving, an electrifying ping of raw pleasure. If she moved another inch, his fingers—

  “I think I’m caught on a button,” she croaked.

  “Si`,” he managed in a strained tone.

  Unable to see the exact problem, her fingers moved blindly, fumbling with the material. Clutching to his shoulder, she cinched her knees around his hips and folded her feet beneath her bottom. Tracy struggled, pressing downward on his thighs with the tops of her feet, trying to get a visual as she yanked at the dress.

  “I can’t get it. The eyelet of the material is twisted around a button on your waistband.”

  She heard Giovanni murmur, swearing in Italian, his face hidden in the shadows.

  “I’m trying to be careful.” Tracy assumed his swearing was due to the idea that she might rip his slacks, until the rising pressure beneath her thigh seized her attention. Oh! Her pulse spurred into a rhythm of erratic beats.

  Giovanni’s head hovered beside hers. The scorch of his heavy breath fanned across her neck. “Let me…let me get it.”

  He reached down between her thighs, working at the twisted fabric. His touch burned through the cotton of her dress. A fiery sensation rushed through her and the skin beneath her dress coated in a thin layer of dampness. His grasp on her bottom became slick from the rising heat and her muscles strained making the effort not to move. The thickness of his erection made her writhe, shamefully, molding herself closer to the terrain of his aroused body.

  “Damn it.” He cursed again tugging at the dress. The back of his knuckles skated over her panties, brushing against her delicate pleasure spot.

  A shock went through her and she arched slightly. A whimper filtered through her exhale.

  Giovanni yanked again, coasting over the same spot, sending tremors of delight swirling through her. Her hands fisted into the folds of his shirt. A low unruly moan climbed from her throat, capturing his full attention.

  He blinked repeatedly, eyes heavily lidded and full of apology.

  Giovanni pulled his hand away. She squirmed and pushed the top of her foot firmly against dense muscle of his thigh. Her hips hitched upward, following the warmth of his hand. He held perfectly still, hesitating.

  Their eyes locked. Tracy’s body throbbed with need, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words aloud. Rolling her hips, she nudged gently, urging him to touch her.

  The back of his hand skimmed over the thin strip of wet silk acting as a ghost of a barrier between them. She purred the word, “Yes.” The grip he held on her bottom tightened, allowing her to rock against the heel of his palm. Giovanni slipped his thumb inside the edge of her panties. He moved with purpose, circling over the throbbing flesh. Her eyes rolled back reveling in his accuracy.

  Somewhere deep inside, she acknowledged that when this moment of passion ended she was going to lecture herself for many reasons. First and foremost being humiliation. But for the first time in her life, Tracy tucked away her inhibitions. Consumed by raw need, she went for it.

  Opening her eyes, she peered into his heat-filled gaze. Her fingers curled around the nape of his neck for leverage, urging his mouth to hers. She took his mouth with deep ravenous kisses. Giovanni licked her mouth in a full exploration. The surging heat and intimate taste consumed her, making her want more.

  Her hips pulsed against his hand in short upward swivels. The momentum built as he massaged her clit with excruciating delicacy. She wanted his mouth, she wanted his fingers, she wanted every part of him. She couldn’t get enough. The sensation was so forceful she wanted to scream, but the sounds caught in the tightness of her throat. “Touch me, yes, yes.”

  She could only make out parts of the endearments he made in Italian. He spoke into the hair near her temple, telling her words of sweet reassurance, “Just relax. I’ll get you there. Let go.”

  Giovanni twisted, hunting for her mouth. His silken kisses were delicious and erotic, permeated with bold flavors from the wine. Sharp shadows of the outline of his mask cast upon his sculpted jawline.

  He rubbed her swollen cleft with infinite precision. Her soft whimpers became louder turning to low moans. A twinge of embarrassment colored over her. She twisted, searching for his mouth to throttle the sound. Giovanni’s jaw strained taut, pulling back, out of reach from her probing lips. The moonlight exposed the gleaming determination in his eyes.

  Giovanni parted her flesh, slipping a long finger inside, penetrating the slick wetness. His strokes became deep and rhythmic. She clung to him, carving her nails into the flexing muscles of his upper arm, trying to control her moans as spasms began to gather force.

  “Let go, bella.” He commanded in a low guttural voice, working in another finger. His knuckles rubbed a sacred elusive place inside with infinite sureness. His hot breath come in hard pants against her shoulder. “Sei cosi` bella. I want to hear you scream.”

  She didn’t think she could, but another rush of pleasure claimed her reluctance and without hesitation her body submitted. Using her foot for leverage, Tracy winched up higher, grinding and rolling her hips. Giovanni ate at the sensitive skin on her throat, licking and nibbling, driving her to utter madness.

  The sound of his rough groans and scorch of his tongue so utterly mind-blowing, she would try anything he asked. Damp strands of hair fell to the center of her back as she raised her chin to the heavens. Tracy lifted and lowered, taking his hand as if it were a lover. The strain of his biceps beneath her fingers drove her wild as he penetrated further, sinking deeper.

  He locked his lips to hers, taking her to the edge and beyond. She began to tip, coming undone beneath his touch. Tracy let go, shattering in rich convulsions. “Oh my God, Giovanni,” she cried out as luscious spasms tumbled violently through her.

  White noise overtook the hammering of her beating heart, but she heard him demand, “Si`, again.” Giovanni pumped steadily in the syrupy heat, forcing her climax higher. She arched back, riding the wave of inexorable pleasure. The sounds of her uncontrolled moans filled the air. She clenched at his fingers, calling out his name repeatedly as he masterfully drew another orgasm.

  Completely breathless, she went limp and sagged against him. His thumb coasted over her throbbing sex working out the last few twitches. Their heavy panting mingled with the hammering of her heartbeat in her ears.

  Giovanni ripped the b
utton from his waistband, freeing her from the snag.

  He gathered her in his arms, holding her securely to his chest. Her limbs felt heavy, drunk with pleasure and she clung to him as if her life depended on his support. Tracy shook all over, uncertain if she wanted to throw her fist in the air triumphantly or crawl under a rock in shame.

  This was the most stunningly erotic experience of her life, but humiliation began to creep in, crushing the feeling of liberation she was swimming in. Giovanni remained mercifully quiet waiting for her to catch her breath. He stroked her back, placing tender kisses to the sensitive slope between her neck and shoulder.

  Her legs, feeble and weak, unhinged themselves from his waist. The galvanizing pressure of his erection nudged against her navel, and she wobbled on the tips of her toes. If the guilt wasn’t embarrassing enough, she ached all over and wanted more. In the back of her mind her manners kicked in. It wouldn’t be polite to leave him hanging.

  Timidly, Tracy dared to pull her eyes from his shirtfront. Satisfaction lingered in his ravenous gaze and she realized they were far from finished. A smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.

  Her palm came to his chest and trailed down his abdomen. The heat of his arousal jutted out the top of his pants. Deftly tracing the hard ridge, Tracy watched in utter fascination as his eyes turned drowsy with desire. The grey disappeared, rolling back beneath his long dark lashes. Unclasping his suit pants, she slipped her hand into his boxers, fondling the substantial length and below. Tracy pushed back his foreskin and encircled her hand around the broad head, drawing out a guttural groan from his throat as she stroked his hard silken skin.

  A wild feeling of liberation pumped through her veins. No man had ever felt this good in her hands. But she didn’t want him in her hand. Giovanni cinched his hand around her wrist, halting her movements. The powerful pressure of his fingers startled her. His breathing came in rough puffs of air. He shook his head. “No.”

 

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