by Jan Moran
He returned the tease, with a chuckle. “You also don’t speak Spanish, you don’t know how to make empanadas, you—”
She lifted her palm, giving him a stop sign. “I get it. I’m not good enough.”
He inched closer to her. “Don’t say that. It’s not that you’re not good enough—”
“Just not good enough for you?” she flung at him.
“Are you joking?” His eyes darkened to black. “You’re more than good enough. You’re beautiful, kind, brave, confident, and strong.”
“You really think that?” she said in a breathless voice.
He continued in his adulation of her, making her feel all warm and squishy inside. “You’ve raised your brothers, put your dream career on hold for them.”
“Well yes, but—”
“You’re also stunning.” He reached out to touch her hair. “The colour is amazing,” he said, stroking his fingers through the length.
“At least you don’t call me carrot head,” she managed to croak out because having him fawn over her was pretty special.
“Your hair is magnificent. It’s one of the things that attracted me to you.”
Her breathing grew ragged with the gentle touch through her hair and the sweet-talk of his words. “Just my hair?”
“I like to think I’m not shallow to only date beautiful women, but when I met you that night, I was utterly smitten with your creamy skin, your green eyes, and red hair.”
Her throat dried, still quite unable to believe what he was saying.
“But then we talked and I got to know you. You’re smart and interesting. I don’t like you just because of your looks, I like you.” He paused. “My mother and sister can see how I look at you.” He stopped and then confessed in a low voice, “They’re not blind, and I can’t hide it. They see how much I want you.”
She forgot how to breathe as she stared at him, digesting his words. He liked her for her? He liked her. “But you never called?” She didn’t want to sound needy but if he liked her, didn’t he want to see her again?
“Beautiful, Lily.” He ran his fingers down the side of her face. “My father had a heart attack the day after we’d been together. It was only a small one but it was enough to keep me distracted and unable to ring you. With work and driving my mother to and from the hospital, I just didn’t.” He stopped then said, “It was a mistake.”
She didn’t know what to say. His confession robbed her of coherent thought. Had his father not been ill, they could’ve been having crazy monkey sex for the past month. Her heart rate quickened. Silly of her to put herself down thinking she wasn’t good enough when there had been a perfectly good reason as to why he hadn’t called.
She hadn’t had the confidence to call him after their one nighter, but now she felt stronger and more certain to approach him honestly. She’d tell him what she wanted. She could do it, she reassured herself. “You’re looking for a wife and to be honest, I’m not interested in getting married.”
Blinking his eyes rapidly, he asked, “Never?”
“I didn’t say never, but not for a few years. I mean, for the past nine years I’ve been a single mum to my brothers. Yes, I love them but now they’ve finished high school, just started University, I can finally have a life. My own life.” She shifted in her seat, seating straight with self-assuredness. “I want to travel, meet people, and have a bit of romance.” Despite her bravado, she was a little ashamed to admit she wanted to be selfish and have her own life.
“My parents died when I was nineteen and I took over the responsibility of raising my twin brothers who were eleven at the time.” She took a steadying breath. “While my friends were going to University, getting drunk, having great sex, I was cleaning out school lunch boxes and helping with homework. I had to put my life on hold to raise them. I worked and worked and now all I want—”
“Is to get drunk, dance, and have sex with university boys?” He gave a teasing grin.
“Not quite.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at his silliness. “I want to have fun, to have great sex, and be the woman that is trapped inside of this sensible body.” She pressed her lips together unsure what he was going to make of her confession. Would he find it amusing that she wanted to be free and fanciful like a teenager?
Seeking an answer, she watched him carefully remove the long- stemmed glass from her hand and place it on the coffee table. He ran his fingers up and down the side of her face languidly. She tilted her face toward him almost purring in response to his gentle touch.
He hadn’t laughed at her and it gave her a burst of much needed courage. “I have a confession.”
“Tell me.” He lifted her hand and kissed the pulse point on her wrist, before he inched even closer to her.
“That night gave me confidence. The following day I approached Deena and asked to be included in the auction.” She paused. “I hid my talent, almost shamefully. But that night was so amazing and it filled me with such energy that I walked into her office feeling bold and brash.”
His fingers slowly pushed her hair behind her ear, his gaze never faltering from hers. “I’m proud of you.”
“I’m now channelling that assuredness and want to tell you…”
“Tell me,” he urged her.
Driving away the demons of doubt, she drew in a deep breath and said, “I want another night with you.”
“Mi hermosa. My beautiful,” he muttered, tugging her toward him and closing his mouth over hers.
Pressing his lips against hers, he cupped her bottom and with strong arms he lifted her so she now sat astride him, facing him.
His kisses became urgent and she welcomed the invasion of his mouth, his tongue, and the soft guttural moans.
An ache spread through her, driving her to speedily remove the clothing that separated them. Her fingers tugged at his shirt, pulling it free from his trousers. Unable to help herself, she spanned her hands over the firmness of his torso, loving the ripples of his muscles.
Cupping her face, he kissed her with such intensity that she forgot about his abs and relished every scorching moment. The spicy scent of him filled her nostrils and words muttered in Spanish filled her ears.
Momentarily, his mouth moved to her chin and inched its way to her ear. The soft press of his lips made her want more. Running his tongue along her ear before nibbling it, he said in a guttural tone, “I can’t think straight when you’re around. All I can think about is pleasuring you and hearing you call out my name.”
His hands cupped and cradled her small breasts before his fingers stroked the nipples to tiny buds through the silk of the bodice.
“Oh. My. God.” Her breathing came in short, sharp breaths. It was like their first time together. Electric, fiery, and oh so hot.
Uncaring, she ripped his shirt apart. The force of her need to undress him made the buttons fly off, landing somewhere on the carpet.
Leaning down, she swirled her tongue over the flat discs of his nipples. She sucked and tasted, loving the groans from his lips. Lust and need pummelled through her body. Hunger to pleasure him and be pleasured by him burned through every vein. She was wild and out of control with wanting him.
She slid up and down his hard length. The friction of their clothes heightened her need, if that was at all possible.
A hiss expelled from his clenched teeth.
His hand dove under her skirt, and his fingers expertly ran along her thigh. “Hell, you’ve got stockings on. I need to see this.”
“Don’t rip my dress, it was my mother’s,” she managed to say with her heart pounding and the pulsating need to have him right there and then. Truth be told, she didn’t give a toss about the vintage dress. All she cared about was the feel of the hard masculine strength of his arms.
Within seconds, he’d lifted her off his lap and had her seated on the couch, dress pushed up to her hips and her panties tossed somewhere.
He came to kneel in front of her. “Your scent drives me crazy. I must ta
ste you.”
Lowering his head, he ran his tongue along the inside of her thigh. “The skin is so soft,” he said before giving it a tiny nibble.
Her bottom inched forward and she placed her legs over his shoulders. His fingers trailed along her thigh and then northward. She shivered in anticipation knowing how good it was going to be. The last time he’d pleasured her with his mouth she screamed and was sure she’d woken his neighbours.
“You taste so sweet,” he said, lowering his mouth to her inner lips. Running his tongue along them her body sagged into the softness of the leather pillows. He inserted one finger, then a second, massaging her with the right amount of pressure, till she was panting and begging for completion.
“Not yet, my beautiful,” he said in a husky tone. And then his tongue replaced his fingers, driving into her, lapping her in the most sensual way. His mouth and tongue made love to her in a way that was so exquisite that she could barely remember her name. When he finally made her come, she cried out at the sheer joy of it. Sagging into the sofa, she took a moment to catch her breath.
Her heart thumped against her ribs and her bones were as sturdy as wet papier-mâché. Her dress was stuck to her sweaty skin and all she wanted to do was ditch her outfit and get naked with Diego. Standing on shaky legs, she released the hidden clasp on the side of the dress and then unzipped it, tossing it aside. She stood proudly in front of Diego in a lacy bra, stockings, and a welcoming smile.
“That was amazing but I want more. This time, you’re going to be begging me,” she said before she lowered herself onto his lap and kissed him.
His expert fingers removed her bra so she was almost naked. “I’m in charge,” he said in a shaky voice.
“Really?” Lily asked, leaning back and giving him an eyeful of breasts.
His mouth found a nipple with killer precision. He licked and sucked it till she was panting, while his fingers stroked her intimately.
So much for being in charge. Again, he’d reduced her to a mound of goo, knowing exactly how to pleasure her.
“Tell me why you left me?” he whispered before suckling on a rosebud nipple.
With her mouth parched and dry from crying out his name, her reply was throaty and needy. “You’re asking me that now?”
“I don’t want to find you gone tomorrow morning,” he said, massaging her intimately, to prove his point.
She gasped at his boldness. “I can’t think when you do that.”
“What about when I do this?” He applied pressure to the spot he knew she loved.
Her breath hitched and her tongue stuck to her palette.
“Tell me.” His voice dropped as his warm breath caressed her ear. “So I can pleasure you again.”
His fingers stopped what they were doing and she cried out, wanting more. “Dammit, Diego, you don’t play fair.”
His mouth moved to the other nipple, giving it a tiny nip with his teeth. “I play to win.”
She reluctantly stood up, then went on her knees in front of him. “I think I like the sound of this game. If you’re not going to play by the rules, well then neither am I.” With that, she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.
She blew him a kiss before running her tongue along his hair roughened chest. And then she went southward.
Two could play this game, she grinned to herself, listening to his groans as his fingers massaged her head. And for this round, she was going to win.
Chapter 5
Lily fell onto the side of the pillow, breathing in gulps of air to slow down the thumpety-thump of her heartbeat. Stealing a look at Diego, she watched him rise from the bed to dispose of the condom before coming to lie next to her. Kissing her shoulder, he murmured, “That was incredible.”
She wanted to say something but she was still in a haze of the most earth-shattering orgasm she’d ever experienced. If she’d thought their first night together was amazing, this was even better.
With her breathing now steady, she looked at the gorgeous man lying next to her who’d pleasured her in ways that she could only have dreamt about. It may be trite but it was the truth. “What we just did—”
“Was amazing,” he whispered into her ear before running his tongue around the rim.
“You’re insatiable.” She playfully punched his arm.
“You do this to me, I can’t get enough of you,” he said, pulling the covers up around them.
“I need to be honest, I’ve never had a one-night stand before, I’m not really sure of the etiquette,” she confessed, her fingertips tracing the discs of his flat nipples.
“Is that why you left last time?” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“I thought you’d be relieved not to find me here,” she said in a soft voice, continuing to trail her fingers along the ridges of his abs.
“I wanted you again that morning.”
Again? His confession made her tummy flip-flop.
“I can’t get enough of you.” His hand cupped her breast and teased the nipple to a bud with light strokes of his finger.
He shifted so his mouth could claim the hard bud in his mouth, lavishing it with his tongue. “Your skin tastes so sweet.”
“I’ve barely recovered from what you just did to me and you’re ready again.” She felt his erection nudge her thigh.
He moved so he was on top of her, kissing her mouth, her neck, her breast. “Promise me you’ll stay. Promise me you’ll attend functions with me.”
With her head pressing into the pillow and his fingers pleasuring her with gentle strokes, she moaned in reply. The man was an incredible lover and she couldn’t say no.
“And every night, you will be here with me calling out my name.” He quickly sheathed himself and then slid into her so they were one. She sighed with the perfect completeness of them coming together. He moved slowly, his hard length filling her. She wanted to hold him tight and capture the exquisiteness of the moment.
“Yes, yes,” she said. His autocratic nature, in bed and out, gave his personality a sexy edge. No wonder she’d been attracted to him.
Not having had many boyfriends over the years, she hadn’t realised sex could be this good. Feeling sexy and confident, with him, had resulted in her trying different positions. Already she was contemplating making love to him in the shower, on his kitchen bench, and on the balcony outside. “You’ve unleashed a side of me I didn’t know existed.” She breathed into his ear.
“You honour me with your trust.” He pressed his mouth against hers. “Let me show you again how magnificent you are.” He withdrew, teasing her before plunging in and making her sob for the sheer joy of it. They made love slowly till his long strokes tipped her over the edge and she cried out his name.
In the early hours of the morning, he took her home, walking her to the door. “I have an art exhibition to attend tonight, I’ll pick you up at seven.” With her back against the door, he pressed hot kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “See you later,” he said, taking a step back and watching her unlock the door on unsteady legs and make her way inside.
Hours later, she stared at her reflection, wearing yet another of her mother’s vintage dresses. Tonight’s number was a 1960s sheath dress in emerald green that suited her slim frame and the colour suited her red hair.
The doorbell chimed and she grabbed her purse and made her way to the door. Too late. Diego was already being sized up by her brothers.
The men shook hands, introducing themselves.
“Boys,” she called to her brothers. “I’ll see you later.”
They said goodbye to Diego, returning to the living room, and she just stared at him. Black jeans, black shirt, black leather jacket. The look was edgy and lethal. Times like this, she wanted to pinch herself that this was not a dream and she was seeing a guy that was not only smoking hot but incredible in bed.
He handed her long-stemmed red roses, wrapped in paper and tied together with a silk ribbon. She’d never received such a beautiful bouquet
and she breathed in their delicate scent. “These are lovely, thank you.” She kissed his mouth. “I’ll just put them in a vase.”
He followed her to the kitchen and she turned to him, smiling. “I can manage on my own.”
“I know you can, but I want to kiss you,” he said in a low voice.
“I kissed you, you’ve got lipstick on your lips.” She placed the flowers on the bench.
“I meant a kiss like this.” Taking a step closer, he cupped her cheeks and pressed his mouth against hers.
He kissed her again and again till she was breathing hard and ready to tug him to her bedroom. Not even caring that her brothers were nearby and could walk in any moment.
Looking at her reflection in the glass door of the oven, she gasped. “Oh. My God. Look at me.”
“You look beautiful,” he said, seemingly not caring that her mouth resembled a toddler’s who’d found and played his mother’s lipstick. “Go reapply it, I’ll wait,” he said, removing a clean white hanky from his pocket to clean his lips. “And don’t forget to bring an overnight bag, you won’t be sleeping here tonight.” He gave her bottom a playful smack.
A few minutes later, she emerged from her room, her makeup fixed and beautifully applied.
“Come on,” he said, taking her arm in his. “You look gorgeous with and without smudged lipstick.”
The art exhibition was being held in a gallery in one of Melbourne’s trendy inner city suburbs where an eclectic mix of people lived. Walking in, Lily resisted the urge to giggle. The event was what she imagined of people in the art world. Everyone in dark colours, drinking champagne, and critiquing the large paintings on the walls.
“I must have missed the invitation with the dress code of black,” she said, rolling her eyes. The bold colour of her green dress and the harsh lighting made her stand out even more against the guests in black.
“We’re here for my cousin, Valentina, she’s an artist and this is her first show,” Diego said as a gorgeous woman in her early twenties approached them. Dressed in black with her long hair in a high ponytail, she greeted them with a flourish of kisses.