by Danielle Monsch, Cate Rowan, Jennifer Lewis, Jeannie Lin, Nadia Lee, Dee Carney
Sandy quivered and released a small moan as he gently grazed his teeth over her throbbing sex, taunting the swollen flesh through its thin covering.
Nibbling and tasting, he pulled at her tights with his teeth, ripping the sheer mesh and tearing at it, a lion feasting on his prey. Sandy gasped as his wet tongue penetrated the rip and licked her bare skin, sucking and roaming over the flesh.
He placed his thumb over the hard pearl he could feel through her delicate panties and stroked it gently, and it throbbed beneath his firm touch. Sandy writhed and lifted her thighs, wrapping them tight around him.
His head trapped between her slender but powerful legs, Marco groaned. Her embrace pulled his face down over her sex and begged him to taste it.
His eager hands groped at the satin panties that covered her and pulled them down to reveal the rosy flesh he craved. He covered her with his mouth and sucked. The scent of her, the warmth of her, the aching desire he had for her, drove him to new heights of glorious madness as he savored the thrill of pleasuring her.
Her thighs still clung to him and her hands clawed at his hair as he relished the sweet taste of her. He grasped her buttocks, raising her hips and pressing his face into her as he felt the first wave of her orgasm ripple through her body. She softened her grip on him as she gave herself over to her climax.
She shook with the intensity of the sensation, her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted in breathless ecstasy. He unbuttoned her shirt and pulled off the rest of her clothes. The sight of her beautiful body, naked under him, shuddering with desire, almost undid him.
His own arousal had passed the point of torment and was now a source of unbearable agony. His erection strained against his pants as he struggled to undo the zipper with fingers that no longer seemed to obey instructions from his brain.
Sandy’s fingers joined his in the fight, yanking at the button at his waist, tugging on the zipper, and he knew she wanted him inside her as much as he needed to be there.
They shoved his pants and underwear down, and she tugged his shirt off as he fumbled with the protection. Her fingertips dug into the bare skin of his back as he seized her, pushed her gently back on the bed and settled heavily over her.
They both opened their eyes at the instant he entered her. She was so soft and wet that he slid right in, burying himself in the womanly depths that welcomed him.
He wanted to see her at that moment, and her gentle brown eyes spoke to him in a language his soul understood.
I love you, he read in their depths.
Words that he knew were echoed in his own steady gaze.
She wasn’t running from him now, wasn’t closing her eyes, trying to hide herself away. She was giving herself to him, strong and brave, daring to come together with him in the way only a man and a woman could.
The utter relief of burying his throbbing member in her made him groan with pleasure. It was good to be inside the woman he loved.
Marco lowered his face to hers and nuzzled her gently, inhaling the scent of her. Her lips sought his and found his kiss. As he closed his mouth over hers, tasting and savoring, his hips fell into a rhythm that rocked them together.
The bumping of their bodies, the grinding of their hips, the swirling dance of their tongues pulled them together into a feverish dance of mutual excitement.
Sandy moaned and clawed at his back, and her uninhibited pleasure drove him wild. Strange guttural sounds escaped his lips as he sank into her and she rose up with him time and time again.
He opened his eyes again as the clamor of his orgasm racked his body like a train wreck, leaving him helpless and defenseless. Sandy’s eyes rolled open as she gave herself over to the climax that shook her from head-to-toe, making her gasp and whimper.
He held her tight, wanting them to fuse together and become one so they could never be parted again. He couldn’t bear to lose her; he couldn’t live without her. She had his heart—she was his heart—and he knew he needed her as much as he needed air to breathe.
Chapter Ten
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“I know your dad was a criminal. It doesn’t matter to me,” said Marco, as he spooned strawberry yogurt into Sandy’s waiting mouth.
She swallowed the creamy mixture and licked her lips. Marco smiled, his eyes on her tongue. His admiring gaze—his loving gaze—warmed her. She felt relaxed, sensual, cared for.
But she couldn’t seem to banish those tiny, niggling doubts that played around the edges of her consciousness.
Sure, he liked her now. He was aroused, intrigued, sexually satisfied—at least temporarily. He saw their life together only in terms of the possibilities. For Marco, no obstacle was too great to overcome. The world was his oyster, and the other pearls were just going to have to shift position to make room for him and his new love.
But Sandy didn’t view the world with such wide-eyed optimism. She might have once. When she was younger she’d longed for the day when her mom would come back, when her dad would stop drinking, and they’d move into a little house with a white picket fence. She’d really believed that if she just wished hard enough, if she prayed and hoped and didn’t give up her vision, it would come true.
Now she knew better. Wishing for something didn’t make it happen.
Marco offered her another spoonful of yogurt, and she parted her lips to accept it. Again he smiled as she swallowed and licked the traces from her lips. His gray eyes were soft with wonder, the hard lines of his face bright with enthusiasm. He truly believed he’d found the love of his life, and they’d live happily ever after.
But he’d believed that before. And he’d been wrong.
“Marco, I know you care about me. And I, I…” She looked down at the sheets on his bed. Sheets where they’d held each other, clung to each other, and promised each other the world.
She looked up into his eyes and a swell of unnamable emotion almost choked her. “I love you.”
She was brave enough to say the words. She did love him. She wanted so badly to believe it would be enough. But experience had been a harsh master for Sandy, and trust and faith were hard to come by. “I love you.” She said it again, softly, letting the words drift toward him.
She saw her love reflected in the warm depths of his eyes. He believed her and trusted her. A coil of fear twisted in her heart. Was she worthy of his trust?
She looked out the window at the sun rising over the rooftops of the city. The rest of the world was waking up, too. The world where they’d have to find their place as a couple, as a family.
Her next words escaped her as a harsh whisper. “But I’m afraid.”
“Don’t be afraid, Sandy. I’ll protect you.” He put down the bowl of yogurt and eased himself toward her on the bed. He settled his arms around her and held her close. The warmth of his skin and his healthy masculine scent enveloped her in a protective mantle that fulfilled his promise, at least for the moment.
“But who will protect you, Marco? My dad wasn’t exactly America’s most wanted but his story will come out. People will talk. My childhood was a mess.”
He held her chin in his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face to his. “You’re a strong woman, Sandy. You’ve survived a lot. Be strong for me. For us.” Marco’s eyes were dark with emotion. Sandy’s heart ached with a humbling and powerful love that made her trust in their future.
“I will, Marco.” And at that moment she really did believe that with their love, anything was possible.
The bright sunlight made her blink as they emerged from the dim lobby of Marco’s building into the bustle of Fifth Avenue at morning rush hour. People shoved and darted past them, and Sandy felt dazed, as if she’d just stepped off a cloud and didn’t know quite how to function in the real world any more.
“Mr. Danieli.” A man leaped forward and seized Marco by the forearm. Sandy startled and instinctively dropped Marco’s arm.
Marco didn’t move an inch. “Yes.”
“Gabe Raymond, New York News, might I
trouble you for a comment on this morning’s story?” His high-pitched voice and cockney accent grated in Sandy’s ears.
Marco surveyed Gabe Raymond for a moment. “Would you care to tell me what this morning’s story is?”
Raymond looked at Sandy, and a slight smile twitched at one corner of his mouth. “May I take your picture?” He lifted the camera hanging around his neck. “The two of you together?” His pale eyes gleamed with mischief beneath a mop of light brown hair.
Marco looked at Sandy and raised an eyebrow. “What do you think, Sandy, do I look pretty enough to have my picture taken?”
Sandy had watched the exchange in a kind of frozen terror, and words wouldn’t form on her lips. Marco seemed relaxed, as if this sort of thing happened almost every morning. For all she knew, it did.
“What’s the lady’s name?” asked Gabe, adjusting a dial on his camera but not yet aiming it at them.
Sandy gulped. Marco calmly replied. “Sandy Riley.”
“That’s what I thought.” Gabe’s mouth twisted into an outright smirk as he raised the camera to his eyes and snapped a rapid-fire succession of pictures. Sandy attempted to plaster a smile on her face. She hoped her terror didn’t show in her eyes but suspected it did.
Marco settled a reassuring hand on her waist. “So, Gabe, what’s the big story? Why are you here?”
Gabe chuckled. “You are, squire. You and the lady.”
“Must be a slow news day.” Marco stood easily, head cocked, challenging Gabe to spill the story but appearing not to care if he didn’t.
Gabe held his camera in front of his body like a cocked pistol. “We’ll see about that.”
Sandy tried to hold her shoulders square while cringing inwardly. “What’s the story?” she finally hissed at Raymond. She couldn’t stand the way he was taunting them, holding all the cards and waiting for them to fold.
“Oh, just that Marco Danieli’s gotten himself mixed up with a girl who’s not likely to pass Pentagon security clearance.” Gabe fixed his eyes on her. “A girl with a criminal record.”
“I don’t have a criminal record. I was a juvenile so the records are sealed….” She trailed off when her words came out more an admission of guilt than a denial.
Marco slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “All right, Gabe, that’s enough. You’ve got your pictures, go have your fun. Sandy and I have work to do, like you. For the record, she’s my lady. Now get out of here.”
Gabe winked. “Thanks, squire.” He backed away from them a few steps, then strode off toward midtown.
“Don’t let them rattle you, Sandy.” Marco didn’t look at all put out by the encounter. “It’s all in a day’s work.”
“Not for me!”
“I know. I’m sorry that my being a public figure is going to bring you publicity you don’t want. I wish there was a way around it. You do get used to it though. I broke a couple of camera lenses before I realized it just goes with the territory.”
“But he’s not on your side, Marco.”
“Sometimes they are; sometimes they aren’t. Nothing much I can do about it. No sense getting an ulcer over it. C’mon, I’ll walk you to work.”
He settled a kiss on her cheek, and the warm touch of his lips soothed and calmed her. Was it that simple? Marco let the troubles of the world roll right off him. Could she learn to do that, too?
Sandy deliberately avoided looking at newsstands as they strode uptown. When they reached her office building, Marco gestured at the newsstand opposite the entrance. Sandy’s heart hammered in her mouth as she scanned the headlines. War, baseball, the commissioner of…there it was. “Danieli’s Dangerous Dalliance.” Marco chuckled as he picked up the paper and scanned it.
“Hey, I have fond memories of this moment.”
He handed it to her and heat flooded Sandy’s face as she saw them locked in the passionate kiss they’d shared outside his building the day before.
“How do they already know who I am?”
“Because that’s what they do. Some poor slob was running around like a maniac last night putting this story together.” He shook his head. “Kind of ridiculous when you look at what’s going on in the world.”
He put the paper back on the newsstand.
“Aren’t you even going to read the article?”
“I’ll be briefed on any news stories when I get to the office.” Marco pushed her hair back from her face. She knew he saw her anxiety, and his eyes were soft with kindness. He kissed her gently on the lips, closed his eyes, and held her. Sandy let her own eyes close as his kiss stole her breath away and filled her with wonder at the connection that held them together.
“I wish I could keep you locked up in a castle and protect you from the world. I know your instinct is to run from anything that threatens you, but you don’t have to run anymore, Sandy. You have to learn how to stand your ground. No one can do that for you.”
She nodded, straightening her spine as she pulled back to look him in the face. “You’re right, Marco. I’ve been hiding in the shadows too long.”
“No more running, no more hiding.” His fingers played over her hair again, tucking it gently behind her neck. “If you want to hide, then come hide under my wing, okay?”
She bit her lip and nodded. Marco wrapped his arms around her again. She buried her face in his shoulder, pressing against the stiff fabric of his suit, and let herself absorb Marco’s comfort—and his strength—as he held her. Then she steeled herself to march through the rest of the day alone, kissed him goodbye, and headed into the building where she worked.
As Sandy entered the lobby she realized with a jolt that she was wearing the same dress she’d had on in the photograph. Its pattern of flowers and dots announcing to everyone that, yes, she was the Sandy Riley. Eyes seemed to follow her from all directions, staring, gawping, laughing at her.
As the security guard looked up from his desk and said, “Hi, Ms. Riley,” she was sure she saw a gleam of mockery in his eye. Or was she imagining it? Why did she care what anyone thought? She should be like Marco and let it go. Focus on the things that mattered.
She settled into her morning routine of filing away the data she’d entered the day before. One of her coworkers kept the radio tuned to an all-news station, and Sandy was soothed by the steady hum of inconsequential stories about traffic jams and sporting events.
Until she heard Marco’s name. It popped out from the hum of faceless voices and seized her attention. She froze in the act of opening a file cabinet drawer. Her breath caught in her throat and suddenly every cell in her body strained to hear the story.
“…A new complication for Danieli Electronics, which stood to capture the contract for upgrading and managing security at the White House and Pentagon with its voice-print technology. Questions are being raised in the Senate about Marco Danieli’s personal connections to the New Jersey underworld.”
The voice of the female anchor chimed in, “We’ll bring you all the latest developments as they happen, with full coverage of all the breaking news, every hour, on the hour.”
Sandy slumped into a crouching position on the floor as the station broke for commercials. Members of the New Jersey underworld? They made it sound like her dad was involved with the mob. And he wasn’t. Well, not directly.
They hadn’t mentioned her name, but it was only a matter of time. Already Marco’s relationship with her was tarnishing the name of Danieli Electronics, undermining everything he’d worked so hard for.
Twenty minutes later she heard her name. And her father’s. If it was television they’d be showing her mug shot from the one time she’d been arrested—and released when the charges were dropped for lack of evidence.
Sandy cringed as the two coworkers who shared her space in the filing room turned and stared at her.
“Sandy Riley? How many of those can there be? Is it you?” Marie’s eyes bulged behind her round glasses and her skintone suddenly matched her gray hair. Sandy nodde
d, swallowing hard.
“Holy cow!” Frannie pressed a manicured hand to her mouth, three-inch nails emblazoned with sunsets underscoring the drama of the gesture. “You’re getting it on with Marco Danieli?”
Sandy didn’t feel the need to dignify the remark with a reply. Her blazing face spoke for her.
“Still waters certainly do run deep, don’t they, Marie? Who’d have thought? Little Sandy from Records and—well, there’s no telling what some people find attractive. Not that you’re not attractive, Sandy, but …”
“Forget about Marco Danieli, what’s this about you and the New Jersey mob?” asked Marie, her eagle eyes pinning Sandy to the filing cabinet behind her.
“I’ve never had anything to do with the mob. My father was a…well, he committed some crimes, but he wasn’t in the mob. And I never had anything to do with any of it.”
“That’s not the idea they were getting across in that story.”
“It’s a slow news day,” parroted Sandy, trying to convince herself.
She spent the next fifteen minutes fending off a barrage of questions about Marco and her relationship with him, and getting absolutely no work done. Thus it was almost fitting when her manager summoned her to his office with a grim look on his pasty face—and fired her.
He didn’t mention the story about her and Marco at all. That might have given her grounds for wrongful dismissal. No, he blamed it on funding cuts, last hired/first fired imperatives—so sorry—two weeks severance pay, pack your things, and leave immediately.
Two weeks severance seemed rather generous since she hadn’t even been there that long. It was a lousy job anyway. She’d find another.
She bid her coworkers a not-very-fond farewell and headed out onto the streets again.
The sun blazed down on her, blinding her as it glared off the windshields of passing cars. She wasn’t sure where to go. She felt dazed, disoriented. The traffic roared in her ears, sirens screaming at the edges of her consciousness.
She started to walk north on Fifth Avenue, not because it would take her anywhere in particular, but because she was afraid that if she drifted south she’d end up outside Marco’s building. He wasn’t there, but more photographers might be.