It was the first real demand she’d made of him. If he interpreted her words to mean she was beginning to care for him too much, well, then so be it. She was. She wouldn’t hide it. She would be honest. The same honesty that would serve her well tomorrow when she would do without him for the rest of her life.
“Bella, tomorrow we can—”
“No.” She tried to stand.
He seized her arms and pulled her down.
She looked at him, rampant sorrow for what she would lose tomorrow making her bold. “I want you to make love to me once more before I leave.” She took his penis and began to stroke him with greedy determination.
He seized her wrist. “Stop. I want you,” he ground out. “But we have no more condoms.”
She cursed now—and began to rise again.
“No!” he shouted at her. “I thought this would happen. We do need each other so badly.”
“The little store in the lobby.” She was grasping for a solution, circling her thumb over the moist slit of his member. “You could call and have them bring up a package.”
“All are sold. I asked.”
She rolled her head back and groaned. “Unbelievable.”
“But I have a solution if you let me try it,” he sounded like a little boy wanting a treat he should not have.
Whatever his idea was, Reggie knew enough about his sexual imagination now to suspect it would be racy and wonderful. “Tell me.”
He reached to the cart and lifted a silver dome. Inside was a bowl of lemons.
She blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“A medieval practice.”
“Lemons?” Her eyes went wide.
“The juice is strong.”
His meaning sparked her own knowledge of foods and she murmured, “Lemons are acidic.”
“We will use the juice to refresh us both.” He nodded toward her cunt and his cock. “And we will use it to insure our enjoyment of each other.”
Fear of pregnancy died against the joyous prospect of having him inside her without the barrier of latex. “I do want you.” She stroked his long hard length. “I want to feel your skin on mine.”
He grabbed her and kissed her, his hot mouth rough with urgency. With deft fingers, he took one lemon cut it in two, squeezed juice onto his fingers and rubbed her labia with the cool liquid. Up and down, up and down, he took his time, licking his fingers one by one after he coated her. Then he lifted his hand to her and let her lick her essence from his fingertips. He squeezed another half with one strong twist of his wrist and the juice from this he pushed up into her cunt, swirling her, stroking her, fucking her with deft hard pumps. Moaning, she made him pause with a hand to his. Then she squeezed a lemon herself and coated him with sure even strokes until she was satisfied with her ministrations.
This time when she stood, he did not stop her but let her lead him down to the floor.
“Come here and love me,” she beseeched him as she spread herself for him on the carpet. “Completely bare to me.” One last time.
He sat up on his haunches and reached toward the cart, squeezed another lemon and coated her heavy lips with the cool juice once more. “For you, my darling.” She undulated as he withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the satin steel of his cock.
She reached her arms above her head. Closed her eyes and rejoiced in the incomparable feel of him.
When she opened her eyes, his were closed and once more the expression on his face was one she’d never imagined a man could wear. He was bowed backward, open-mouthed—enchanted.
She wrapped him close. “My darling man, this is like nothing I have ever felt.”
And when he had almost finished giving them both the sinful delights of a slow, torrid fuck, he pulled out of her to spend his own last moment of delight, then drew her close and whispered in her ear, “This is like no one I have ever felt.”
Chapter Three
“How can I keep my hands off you for hours?” he asked after she opened her hotel room door to him two hours later and his gaze ate her up.
“Must you?” She stretched up to place a tiny kiss on his mouth. “In that tuxedo, I will be searching to please you, my darling.” Her hand drifted to his trouser zipper. “My god, how lucky I am.”
“We will both be in agony.” He kissed her back and groaned. “In this gown, bella, you are a vision. Turn around.”
She spun for him to see the lime green silk tissue that fell like graceful leaves to the floor and pooled in a train.
His eyes narrowed. “How do you walk in that?”
She parted the panel that draped over her left leg.
“Ah. Bene. I can touch you then. I feared I would be without you on my fingers for far too long.” He stepped toward her, inserted his hand beneath the silk and found her pussy. “Regina,” he murmured as his lips nuzzled her collarbone. “How do you expect me to be a good man if today I know you wear no panties?”
She arched as his fingers dived into her wet cunt. “I know you are good man, Sergio and that’s why I’m naked. Oh god,” she moaned, hearing how succulent her cream sounded as he stroked in and out of her, “let’s get out of here before we never leave.”
On the way down to the gardens in the elevator, he asked if she’d talked with her sister.
“I did—and it was short and not so sweet. She’d left five messages on my voice mail. In each one she was wondering where I was, but about message number three, she gave up the pretense and said she figured I was with you.” Reggie rolled her eyes at him. “When I called back, she was leaving to go help Sandy get dressed, so she had no time to scold me.”
Sergio cast Reggie a tender smile. “Older sisters.”
“Yes.” Reg swallowed, avoiding asking if he had one. “Donna fills the role well. Giving advice whenever she feels like it.”
“Did she like your husband?”
She stared at Sergio, momentarily taken aback by the non sequitur. “Yes. Most people did. Tim was a sweet man.”
“What was his work?”
“An attorney. Copyright.”
“Not very exciting, eh?”
“No.” Very quiet. Very…dull.
“And how did he die?”
“You knew?” She was shocked that Sergio had personal knowledge of her husband’s death.
“After I read your book, I was curious about you and I asked Sandy to tell me more.”
Reggie held his gaze. “I see.”
“I think not. I tried your recipes. And I have come here as much to see Sandy married as to meet you.”
His astounding revelation was a compliment that floored her—and had her struggling to find the train of their discussion.
But he persisted. “How did he die, Regina?”
Her eyes met his gaze again as the elevator bounced at the first floor and the doors sighed open. “An auto accident.”
He took her arm, his gaze never leaving hers as he led her around those who waited to get on the elevator. “How long ago?”
He asked so nonchalantly that she halted in the foyer. Sergio faced her. People drifted around them.
“Three years.”
“And you are no longer missing him.”
No question, his words had her nodding and confessing, “But I am lonely.”
He drew her close and whispered, “I know, my darling. I could see it last night at dinner as you looked at me across the room.”
Are you lonely? She was dying to learn more about him—and mentally kicked herself into action so that she voiced her question.
He reached up to trace her jawline with the backs of his fingers. “I was lonely until I met you here last night, bella.”
“Sergio,” Reggie flowed toward him, stunned with his perception and his endearment. “You are the sweetest man and I—”
“There you are!” Donna rushed up to both of them and wound her arm through Reggie’s. “I am so glad you are here.” Though she really didn’t look it with the way she examined Se
rgio as if he were a creature from the Black Lagoon.
“What’s up, Donna?” Reggie asked her.
“It’s the caterer. He was late—and the bruschetta and antipasti are ready but the stuffed pork is only half done. You know how long that takes and if it’s raw then—”
Reggie put up a hand. “Stop, sweetie. Let me go talk with him. Come with me, Sergio?”
“Of course, Regina.” Sergio put a hand to her back to lead her down the hall.
The two of them left Donna standing in the hallway.
“Is she still looking at us?” Reggie was fighting a belly laugh.
“If I look back, I might be struck blind.”
Reggie erupted in laughter, turned a corner and pulled him close. “You are a wonderful tonic for me, Sergio.” In her joy of him, she took the moment to tell him more about her husband than he had asked for. “I loved my husband. He was a kind, caring, considerate man. Not a big success at what he did, but he certainly earned enough money to insist I quit my catering job and cook—and experiment—so that I was able to write that cookbook.”
Sergio hugged her. “And did he ever know you made the bestseller list?”
“No, he died before the book took off. And I was never able to say thank you for the generous gift he gave me.”
Sergio traced her lower lip with one fingertip. “That gives you regret.”
Tears blurred her vision. “Yes. Tim was not…many things. But he was the reason I have done well with the book—and now my agent is talking with a cable channel about a possible television show.”
Producing a handkerchief, Sergio dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “Don’t cry, my darling. Your husband knows you are successful. And grateful.”
She gave Sergio a strained smile because she realized if that were true, Tim would also know she felt sexually needy. Sexually deprived. And so hungry that she was becoming assertive about fulfilling her desires. Yet, Tim had known that in life because she often saw on his face how he worried he had not satisfied her—and how he insisted she not make demands of him. But Sergio was the opposite and she planned to enjoy him—and her own liberation. “You are right, Sergio. Tim would be happy for me.”
At the end of the hall, a few waitstaff emerged from the kitchen doors to argue loudly with each other.
Sergio smiled. “Come, bella, let us give hell to the caterer. And then, you and I, we will talk more about what else you would like in your life, eh?”
* * * * *
But the chance to talk never came. Instead, the two of them spent an hour helping the caterer and his staff working on the pork as they should. Then Reggie donned an apron and helped the baker assemble and position the four-tiered wedding cake. Sergio was fully occupied talking with the bartenders about the order of the Champagne and the wines for dinner.
When the time neared for the wedding ceremony, Reggie hung up her apron, found Sergio and the two of them strolled to the garden where lawn chairs were set for the two hundred guests.
“Thank you for your help.” She leaned close to him as they sat listening to the four violinists begin the entertainment.
“Regina, I was happy to help.” His eyes were dark, brilliant and happy. “For you, all for you.”
She looped her arm through his and closed her eyes, content.
He patted her hand and kissed her temple. “I cannot wait to dance with you.”
She grinned up at him. “You dance. Wow. My day is made.”
He arched both brows. “You like to dance?”
“Waltz, cha-cha, boogie.”
“Tango?”
“Oooouuuie, absolutely. Do you?”
“Very well. Taught by my father and mother who were superb.”
“I have gone to heaven.” She squeezed his biceps.
“Ah. That comes later.”
She burst out laughing. “How right you are.”
His gaze swept over her. “I must keep you laughing like that. It has been too long for you.”
“Oh yes,” she sighed at his accurate insight. “Years and years.”
“Even before he died, si?”
This time his insight was a question. And she honored it with a direct look into his eyes and honesty. “Yes. I loved him. But always there was something lacking.”
“And you despaired there could not be more with any man.”
She was so stunned, her mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut. “Yes. He loved me but he lacked an ability to let go. He lacked a…a joy of little things that barred us both from,” she tilted her head as she gazed at Sergio, “bliss.”
He cupped her throat, his thumbs tracing the edge of her jaw. “I have felt the same. Looking for a mate who could find delight in the moment and the grand plan. Looking for one who could match me. Wondering if such perfection could exist. I am thirty-six years old, Regina and I will tell you I have had many amores. But none who meant all to me.” He leaned over and, in full view of her gathering family and friends, kissed her with a full possession of lips and tongue. “I am captivated with you beyond the moment, the bed, the sex, cara mia. I give you fair warning that I mean to have more.”
Whatever his meaning, time to discuss it with him died as cousins from Nebraska came to exclaim over her and tell her how they’d just arrived because of airplane delays. Within minutes more relatives arrived to clasp her to them, sigh over the decorations and the sunny weather off the Atlantic—and to ask to be introduced to Sergio.
“You are a hit,” she told him as four more musicians took up their spot and began the wedding march. “My family will be after me tomorrow by phone and email and carrier pigeon to learn just who that luscious man was by my side.”
“But what if I am by your side tomorrow?”
“What?” Her hearing must be bad.
His gaze fell to her mouth. “Shh. Think on it. The wedding begins.”
She had no idea what vows Sandy and her fiancée exchanged. No idea how her niece looked. How the dinner tasted. She only knew she was desperate to be alone with Sergio again soon and for a very long time.
But she was besieged with wedding duties. Finding the wedding planner who seemed to have disappeared into the kitchen in the midst of a tirade with the caterer. Advising Sandy and her groom how to cut the cake properly so the damn thing wouldn’t collapse. Gathering up the wedding bouquets when the family portraits were to be taken.
When she finally got back to Sergio’s and her table, she found him in deep conversation with one of her great aunts. They were speaking in Italian, which was a blur to Reggie and she began to step away. But Sergio snagged her hand, wrapped his arm around her waist and caught her to him.
“Stay, Regina,” he instructed. “Your Aunt Corinna tells me stories of you when you were a child.”
Reggie smiled at her tiny aunt who was now eighty-nine and her mother’s mother’s sister. “Did she tell you what a terror I was?’
“Si, si,” Aunt Corinna chuckled and pointed at Reggie, “a bomb.”
“Bomb?” asked Sergio, bending down to the little woman.
“A bomb, si. She was so much like fireworks. After her mother died, always.”
Sergio looked at Reggie. “When did your mother die, bella?” His voice was deep, velvet concern.
“When she was five,” Aunt Corinna said. “Sad thing. To lose a mother so young. But Donna was a little mother, was she not, Regina?”
“Yes, Aunt Corinna, she was. Our father was very grateful too,” Reggie told them both. “Donna was eighteen, Sergio, when our mother and our brother died. In an auto accident.”
His brows knit together in dismay. He was noting, Reggie was sure, how her life had been torn apart by tragedies. “No wonder you were a bomb.”
Aunt Corinna and Reggie smiled sadly at his use of the word.
“She is now a very quiet lady, are you not, Regina?” her aunt asked. “To lose a husband too, is a terrible thing. It makes her afraid to live.”
“Oh Aunt Corinna, I am f—”<
br />
Her aunt bent up to Sergio’s ear. “She needs a good man, Signore Avanti. A very strong and wise man who can teach her to feel safe to love and laugh again.”
“Aunt Cor—”
“I believe you, Signora.” Sergio kissed Corinna on her wrinkled cheek.
Her aunt sidled closer to him. “I have seen how you look upon her with hot eyes, Signore. Will you be that man?”
“Ah, Aunt Cor—”
“Think about it, Signore! I must go now to take my pills. Too much wine and the pills work very fast!” She clapped her hands together and motioned for Sergio to lean down to her. She kissed his cheek and crushed Regina’s hand then said to her, “You must give him the chance, Regina.”
“Well!” Regina blushed as she watched her aunt trundle off toward her table and her son’s and daughter’s families. “Nothing like being revealed for all you are worth.” She faced Sergio with a scolding grin on her face. “And you were encouraging her. Flirting with her too.”
“Ah, mia regina.” He pressed flush against her, his arousal long and hard and so very delicious-feeling beneath the tuxedo trousers. “Are you jealous?”
“Among other things, yes.”
“Bene,” he whispered, drew her back into his arms and kissed her oh-so thoroughly. And when he pulled away and she drifted back to reality, she heard music playing. “Come now, Regina. We are dancing.”
The tune the band played was slow and dreamy, just fine to match Reggie’s muddled senses. She let Sergio lead her in the simple steps and hold her far too close.
“You fit me exactly,” he told her, and pressed her loins against him.
She grinned against his throat. “I learned that last night.”
“I want you again tonight.”
She sighed into his arms, relieved and thrilled their time was not yet over. “All night,” she told him with boldness. “We must stay here though until Sandy and Joe leave.”
He pulled back to watch the bride and groom dancing. “I hope they will enjoy themselves as much as we will.”
She chuckled, tossing her head back to admire his charming face. “Me too.”
His expression fell to hot desire. “I need you now.”
“I can’t leave.”
Mia Dolce Page 3