Blue Collar Romeo

by Jenny Gardiner

  “I may have mentioned—I don’t have a huge family, so maybe I can’t relate to pressure to conform to family expectations. Perhaps that makes me a bit biased.” She leaned in more as she scrolled across the screen, staring intently at his work. “But I gotta tell you, it would be a waste of your gifts if you didn’t pursue this and see where it took you.”

  He knit his brows. “Honestly? You’re not just being polite?”

  “God, no. These are lost arts you have captured beautifully. The world needs people like you to provide such beauty, a counterpart to the mundane world in which most of us live. I don’t doubt you’re a perfectly good vintner or accountant or marketing whiz, whatever it is Romeo wines needs you to be, but I’d imagine with your gigantic family, there are others who can do that equally as well. The world probably needs another wine expert far less than it needs someone who can brighten our lives with works of art.”

  She looked up at him, only to find his face mere inches from hers.

  “Has anyone told you that you have the most beautiful eyes?” He pinned her with an intense gaze as he leaned in closer still. “Something about them pulls me in, in much the same way that working with wood somehow calls to me.”

  Gisele froze in place, unable to think of a proper response to his comment. But the idea of working with his wood sure called to her. Her hands were tired from leaning on them while she looked at his computer screen, but she didn’t dare move an inch. The heater turned on and the blast of warmth forced air where they sat, making the tips of her hair dance across his chest. Tomasso groaned.

  He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, then placed his hand beneath her chin, gently pulling her toward him. “Nothing personal, but something tells me I’m going to regret this.”

  Chapter Four

  What. The. Fuck. Was. He. Doing?

  This very thought played on a dueling loop that ran through Tomasso’s brain, right along with the notion of how much he wanted to feel that blond hair of hers on his thighs as she settled between them, her mouth over his hard cock. Alas, thought number two won, and he could not stop himself from acting on his impulses as he inhaled the fresh, citrusy smell of her shampoo and settled his lips over hers. She released a tiny sigh as their lips merged, and he couldn’t help but run his tongue along the seam of hers, urging her to open to his overtures. With his free hand, he shifted his laptop discreetly onto the coffee table, hoping there would be no more need for what he now realized was merely a prop for his inevitable intentions. Who was he to think he could go without this?

  Tomasso ran his fingers through her hair as his tongue traced encouraging strokes along hers. She moaned, and he reached a hand behind her, cupping her curvy ass and pulling her on top of him, his hard length fitting the perfect notch between her legs. It was his turn to moan. He pressed her bottom toward him so there was no mistaking his desires, and she rolled her hips against his hardness and deepened the kiss as her hands skirted over his shoulders, his arms, and his chest. If he thought his dick couldn’t get any harder, he was sorely mistaken, and he felt it throb against his fly while Gisele ground into him. It had been months since he’d been with a woman and he was jumping out of his skin with the need to touch her, to feel her warm and wet and wanting.

  His hands coasted along her bare back and desperate to feel more of her, he slid his fingers, beneath the spaghetti straps, gently tugging them off her shoulders, then following the top edge of the dress in search of the zipper. He tugged it and the dress gave way as if it had been in on the conspiracy to get her out of it all along. Quickly, he pulled it over her head, tossing it carelessly onto the floor and leaving her naked but for those sexy-as-fuck sandals and red lace thong; it left little to the imagination and surpassed the black one he’d envisioned. He tried to take a deep breath to settle down the urgent, carnal needs that were overwhelming his senses, but it was impossible. This woman had gotten under his skin despite himself and he needed more. Now.

  Once he’d freed her from the confines of the dress, he flipped her onto her back on the sofa, taking charge to gain better access, pressing his solid body to her soft one, flesh to flesh at last. He dipped his head in search of a breast, and his mouth quickly fastened on her hard nipple, licking and sucking and nipping at it till she panted with need.

  “Ohhh, Tomasso.” She breathed heavily as she pressed his head to her breast. “Don’t stop. That feels fucking amazing.”

  She fumbled for his belt, deftly pulling it from the belt loop and unfastening it in swift, skillful motions. She unbuttoned his pants, slipping the zipper of his fly down, and slid her hand beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, finally releasing his cock from the fabric confinement that was about killing him. But then she coiled her warm fingers around his hardness and he thought he’d not last another minute.

  “Cara mia,” he said on a groan. “Di più. More.”

  He pressed rough woodworker hands beneath the flimsy edge of her thong, sliding his fingers over her smooth skin, slipping with ease to her wet center. Gisele gasped, thrusting her hips toward his talented fingers as they parted and stroked along her swollen pussy.

  “Oh, my God, Tomasso, you are so gifted with your hands.” He picked up the pace, circling her clit while he suckled her breast. He could feel her body tense as she shouted out his name yet again, her muscles quivering as she locked his hands on her thighs, grinding herself toward his fingers.

  ~*~

  After momentarily catching her breath, Gisele urged Tomasso onto his back as she sat on her haunches, admiring the near-perfect specimen of maleness: his strong, broad shoulders, his well-developed pecs, and a cut stomach that served as the red-carpet pathway to the main event: his gorgeous, gigantic cock. She leaned forward and swiped her tongue along the base of his throat, then trailed it across his chest, paying close attention to first one nipple, then the other while her hand stroked his hard length.

  She continued licking her way down his body, swirling her tongue around his navel, and following the trail of dark hair that beckoned until she found the Holy Grail. She pressed her tongue to the tip and licked in small strokes, slowly working down the tip and around his cock like he was her own personal lollipop.

  Tomasso groaned out loud right as she opened her mouth and slowly took the girth of him inside. She moaned as her lips enveloped him, knowing the vibrations would drive him even more crazy. She took him as deep as she could then slowly released him, pulling him in again, sucking hard this time.

  She almost didn’t hear the sounds of someone approaching, but thankfully she did: the jangling of keys, the press of footsteps coming down the hallway.

  Survival instincts kicked in suddenly and she sat up fast. “My brother. Shit. Get up. Now!”

  She was off Tomasso in the blink of an eye, quickly throwing her dress back on while ordering him to zip up his pants.

  “Crap. We need to hide you.” She rapidly gathered up his laptop and collected the mess from their dessert, hoping to destroy any evidence that would point toward his presence. “My brother is super protective of me. He’d kill me if he knew you were here.”

  She shooed him down toward her room and into the bathroom, forcing him into the private toilet stall and closing the door.

  She glanced in the mirror, hoping to erase all signs of having just orgasmed her way to happytown, then fluffed her hair to tamp down any obvious disarray. “You stay here,” she said as if talking to a naughty dog. She raced to the front hallway and placed her ear to the door listening for signs of imminent intrusion by her brother, but hearing nothing more. After waiting a few beats, she gingerly opened the door and poked her head out, glancing down the hall in one direction and then the other, seeing not a soul. Relieved, she shut the door and hurried back to the bedroom.

  “Pssst,” she said as she opened the door to the bathroom to find him awkwardly standing atop the toilet. “Hurry. Coast is clear, temporarily at least. You have to leave, now.”

  Poor Tomasso
stared, dumbfounded.

  “I know. Sorry to leave you hanging like that but I can’t take a chance. Now come on.” She grabbed his hand and tugged. “Let’s get you out of her, fast.”

  And in a complete reversal of the manner in which she greeted him hardly more than an hour earlier, she opened the door, double-checked that the coast was indeed clear, and pushed poor Tomasso out the door before he could even attempt a protest.

  At times like this, she wished like hell she didn’t have to worry about what other people thought, because, damn, that was one unforgettable time until the threat of Parker had to go and ruin it. As much as she’d have loved to take this lovely little episode to its expected conclusion, no way was she going to risk the wrath—and reprimand—of her big brother. She was supposed to be on her best behavior at this wedding. And, like it or not, best behavior meant not having sex with the cousin of the groom.

  Chapter Five

  Tomasso knew he’d dodged a bullet during that episode with Gisele. That episode. As if. More like that un-fucking-believably hot almost-sex with the most gorgeous woman he’d been cut off by in, well, ever. He couldn’t believe it was she who left him with a bad case of blue balls and not the other way around. Rather than adhering to the moral code he’d firmly established, he’d gone completely in the opposite direction. What the hell? How could he be so incapable of avoiding sexual encounters? At least he hadn’t technically welshed on the bet yet. Since the act wasn’t completed, he could remain guilt-free. He hadn’t officially broken his vow. Perhaps it was a matter of semantics, but he wasn’t going to quibble with it and luckily Lorenzo would be none the wiser.

  He’d have been fine if only it weren’t for her damned hair, draped around him like a privacy fence obscuring what she was doing to him so only he could watch, mesmerized. Oh, and those sandals he kept fantasizing about.

  He truly didn’t want to get involved with any damned woman, but she seemed sweet and interested in him, not the prestige of his family, unlike Liliana, and he hadn’t hooked up for a while, and well, there they were alone: two grown adults and those sandals. Even now, he could barely erase the idea of stripping her down to nothing more than those hot heels, maybe taking her from behind while she wore them.

  This would serve as a cautionary tale and he’d keep his damned distance from that temptress. Clearly she held some magical sway over his ability to keep his dick in his pants.

  He felt the need to simply lay it all out there with Gisele, let her know that whatever this thing was simmering like a mirage in the desert between them could never go further. Especially because he was that starving man crawling across the hot sand and that made her all the more alluring to him. He grabbed for his phone and dialed her number, which she’d shared with him at the party last night.

  Her voice was so damned chipper when she answered, he felt awful about the reason behind the call.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice coming out more like a grunt.

  “Hey, yourself. Whatcha got going on today?”

  “Getting together with school friends, that sort of thing.” He wasn’t about to tell her he planned to quarantine himself in his apartment in the palace rather than show up at any event that involved hiding from whatever was brewing between them. He could only sequester himself from her so much over the next few days. He’d have to pick his battles wisely. With any luck, he could at the very least dodge her till the prewedding gala dinner, maybe even find himself a camouflage tuxedo to wear to the wedding, to keep him incognito from dangerous enticements like Gisele.

  “I was hoping we could maybe meet up, go into town for a little while.”

  Tomasso balled his hands into fists. This would not be as easy as he’d hoped. “Yeah. Sorry. I have a full schedule. Won’t be available much at all.”

  “How about if we sit together during the sleigh ride tomorrow?”

  “Actually I don’t think that’s going to work out. I’ve got something else going on.”

  “Okay, then,” she said. “Um, well, good luck with that.”

  “Thanks.” He wiped sweat from his palms onto his pants, feeling like such a complete asshole ditching her like this. But it was for the best. “Take care.”

  “I’ll be sure to.” With that, she hung up, no good-bye.

  Well, that went well. He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling like such a heel for letting her down so hard. Under other circumstances, maybe they could have pursued what was obviously a mutual attraction. But now was not the time and he’d have to leave it at that.

  ~*~

  Wow. What a complete asshole! He was none too happy to get in my pants last night and now he’s acting as if he barely knows me, let alone wants to spend a minute with me.

  Gisele could feel her temper simmering to a slow boil, but she was determined not to let it get the best of her. She was still at a palace for a wedding, so she simply had to keep things in perspective. She didn’t need that man in her life, and she truly didn’t know him enough to care. If he wasn’t interested in her, that was his problem.

  She could ignore him right back and then some. Which ended up being much easier than expected, since he failed to show up at that evening’s reception and again for the sleigh ride the following day. At first, she’d gotten her hopes up when she saw a tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed man who looked deceivingly like Tomasso, but it turned out to be his brother Lorenzo. Just as well. She had no interest in spending time with the Romeo brothers; she was perfectly content to hang with Valentina and to hell with the male faction of that family.

  She knew, however, she’d likely run into him at the prewedding gala dinner, which Valentina said was a slightly less formal version of a wedding reception. For the royals, that meant perhaps not as many official-type uniforms, maybe not so many swords and cords and badges and medals dangling from elaborately decorated military costumes. She had to believe they were costumes and not actual functional uniforms, because what military man could wear those things on a battlefield and not sink into the mud and drown from the very weight of the garments alone? She tried not to imagine what Tomasso would look like in one of those. Or better still in a tuxedo. She’d have a hard time resisting him in that.

  Gisele had loved the opportunity to dress up for the many royal nuptial events this week. At home, a pair of jeans, heels, and a slouchy sweater were about as fancy as she got when going out. More often than not, she could be found in yoga pants and a sweatshirt and a pair of Uggs. But this, well, this was license to pretend she was a princess of sorts, and she had taken advantage of it.

  She and Valentina had spent the afternoon getting ready for the prewedding gala dinner, with the full barrage of primping such an occasion would merit. They had manis and pedis followed by hair and makeup styling done by professionals. Even though she got the important things out of the way in advance, it took Gisele a good hour to get ready for the event. She went all out with her chosen gown: a slinky off-the-shoulder satin and silk body-hugging Armani number in midnight blue.

  She took a final look in the mirror before departing for the event, glanced over her shoulder to see how she looked from the back, and gave herself an assenting nod. While she hoped that stupid Tomasso would eat his heart out when and if she had the chance to see him, in reality, she was dressing to please herself, not some man she’d never see again. And she was pleased with how beautiful she looked and felt.

  Parker had arranged for a limo to take the three of them to the venue. When they arrived at the National Gallery and debarked from their stretch SUV limousine, Gisele felt as if they were equally important royal guests. And while there was one guest she sort of—if she had to admit it—wanted to see tonight, in truth, if she never saw Tomasso again, she’d be fine with that. She didn’t need a useless man to make her feel special.

  Chapter Six

  Tomasso took one look at Gisele in that body-hugging gown that fell off her shoulders, practically inviting him to pull it down the rest of the way, and knew
he’d have a hell of a time steering clear of her. With hair pulled back and off her shoulders and soft blond tendrils framing her face, she looked like an angel—one with a devilishly talented mouth, if his fleeting firsthand experience of the other night was any indication.

  He’d been watching for her as she entered through the gallery’s grand entrance, and she did indeed make an entrance befitting the venue, looking elegant and sexy and truly more beautiful than any woman in the place. He was used to the type of women who wore their importance like a badge of honor, who dressed to impress and whose attire and makeup and general presentation were a sort of suit of armor announcing how imperious they were. But here was Gisele, looking a bit girlish and awkward, certainly adorable, yet sensual, and all of it seemed natural. Nothing about her screamed “look at me” like those many women who wanted only that.

  It made him rethink what now seemed like an ill-conceived plan to avoid entanglements with women. Why would I want to steer clear of that? he wondered as his eyes practically ingested her from head to toe. Maybe contrary to his current mode of thinking, all women weren’t created equal, and perhaps some were worth a second glance.

  He hurriedly made his way toward the entryway to get a closer look, maybe even have a chance to explain himself a bit better to her. As Tomasso hastened in that direction, navigating through a throng of guests, he knocked into an elderly man in a formal kilt, spilling his bourbon all over the man’s jacket and apron. In his haste, he barely stopped to apologize, tossing his handkerchief to him to dab it dry, waving apologies as he continued forward. Finally he came face-to-face with Gisele.

  She squinted her eyes at him, nodding curtly. “Tomasso.”

  “Cara,” he said, reaching for her hand and pulling it to his lips for a soft kiss. “You look absolutely breathtaking.”

  “Gee, thanks.” She pulled her hand back and turned away from him, trying to catch Parker’s attention. But her brother was completely engrossed in conversation as he walked into the crowd with a proprietary hand at the base of Valentina’s back. The sight made Tomasso wistful that he wasn’t doing that at this very moment with the woman standing before him. Gisele sighed deeply, her eyes obviously scanning the crowd for anyone other than Tomasso with whom she could feign compelling conversation.