by Claire Woods
I let it hum around my clit, but where I really need relief is deep inside. I moan cupping my breasts, wishing it was Gianni’s hands and not my own.
I’m slick as the sleet outside and plunge the vibrator in deep—rotating it around until the head finds my G-spot and buzzes on it.
“Mom? You up yet? I want pancakes!”
“Shit!” I half moan and half yell.
I was so close.
“Just a minute…”
Shit. All I needed was one more minute, and I would’ve been there…
Gianni is all I can think about. Something happened at the arcade. He made me feel safe. I found myself opening up to him about everything. When he rubbed my wrist, it was like he hypnotized me. I’m under his spell and although he made no attempt to hide his desire for me—I made sure he understood that I’m not interested. That I can’t go there. I’m spread thin as it is. I can’t get involved right now.
I lied.
He’s making me think crazy things. Want the impossible.
Despite my intentions to push him away, I said yes to a playdate yesterday morning. But Tiff called, saying her weekend plans fell through. She ended up taking Tommy after all. I understand where he is coming from. As shitty as she is—he couldn’t deny Tommy’s time with her.
He needs it, and I’m happy for him that Tiff spent the day with him yesterday.
But Gianni half-joked that he bought Tommy a new GPS watch in case Tiff flakes and forgets him somewhere.
“Good morning sweetie, I fluff the hair on top of Luca’s head. What would you like to do today?”
He shrugs, trudging to the couch and turning on Nickelodeon.
“Well, I think we need to go to church. It’s the first Sunday of the advent. Maybe we could go to lunch after and do some Christmas decorating?”
“Boring. I hate church.”
I stop gathering ingredients and cross the floor. “I know the past few years have been hard on you, honey. I’m doing the best I can here. I’m so proud of how you behaved with Tommy and his dad on Friday night. I can see you are trying. Do you want to talk to me about Dad? Or someone else, a counselor maybe?”
“No.” He sticks out his lip, “I hate him.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true. He left us! Why couldn’t we stay a family? Why doesn’t he ever want to see me? Tommy’s dad is so cool. He drives him to school almost every day and plays with him all the time. Did you see how good he was at the arcade?”
“I did. I know this is hard for you to understand, but I wasn’t perfect either. Your father wanted something different. We grew apart. Sometimes that just happens to married people.”
“He’s stupid. You’re perfect.”
“Don’t call your father stupid. And thank you, sweetheart, I think you are perfect too. Would you like to hang out with Tommy and his dad again, soon?”
“Yeah, Tommy said he was getting a puppy for Christmas. Mr. DeLuca is the coolest dad ever.”
I smile, silently agreeing. Going back to the kitchen island, I pick up my phone firing off a few texts. The first one to Tony:
You’re a real shit-head.
And the next one to Gianni:
Luca’s having a tough weekend. Can you and Tommy hang out soon?
Gianni writes back instantly:
I knew you’d come around. Wanna, come over and bake cookies later?
I type back: You bake, too? I’m swooning over here.
He writes: I do it all sweetheart.
I type: I’ll bring sprinkles. What time?
Five-thirty. He responds.
See you then! I type, swooning for real.
Gianni gives me butterflies. I haven’t felt them in years. I don’t feel like the over-tired hot mess of a mother when I’m with him.
I feel like a school girl with her first crush.
I’ve missed this. The flirting, the slow-build to what you know is coming, the fantasizing about how his kiss will be, and the hope that he could be my happily ever after.
But I’m not a school girl—haven’t been for a long time.
I know better than to fall head first. But that doesn’t mean I won’t do it anyway. I’ll always dream about finding my prince charming. But Gianni, with his dirty grin and diamond stud earrings, is no Disney prince. No… Gianni’s a cage fighter with the charm of a playboy and a body made to make a woman scream.
“Luca! We’re going over to the DeLuca’s before dinner!”
“Sweet!” His stubborn face cracks into a genuine smile and my heart melts—Gianni DeLuca is putting smiles on the two of us left and right.
It’s not until an hour later that my phone pings with a text from Tony:
Don’t be such a shrew. Becky gives better head than you did.
I type back: My new boyfriend has more stamina, and he’s bigger than you.
Tony: Who is he?
I ignore his text. Fuck him.
My phone rings and his name flashes across the screen. I don’t answer.
Two minutes later my home phone rings.
I ignore that too.
My phone pings with another text from him. Against my better judgment, I open it.
It’s a dick pic.
My ex-sent me a damn dick pic.
Tony: I just needed to refresh your memory…my cock’s thick as fuck and you loved it.
Me: Yeah, I did. Until you let Becky put her mouth on it.
Tony: Who is he?
Me: Buzz off. You haven’t even asked about Luca once. But you sent me a pic of your pathetic piece?
He doesn’t text back. I put him out of my mind, pouring pancake batter into the hot frying pan. Maybe what Luca needs for Christmas is a better role model and what I need is to let Gianni DeLuca do naughty things to me while I do them right back.
Luca rings the doorbell while my hands nervously clutch my bag.
Gianni opens the door wearing a faded pair of jeans, a white tank top and an apron with tiny elves on it.
My ovaries explode.
He winks.
My legs shift, and he takes my bag from me, kissing both my cheeks.
“Hello, Kate.”
“H-hi,” I respond breathlessly.
Gianni’s house smells of sugar cookies and pine. The wood floors gleam and his furnishings are homey. There’s no black leather and chrome, or weird abstract art that’s all the rage.
“Did your ex decorate? Your home is lovely?”
“No. I moved in after we split. I wanted to start fresh. You like? I did all right at HomeGoods?”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “It’s perfect.”
“I think you’re perfect,” he croons in my ear.
He straightens and grabs my hand, leading me inside to his massive kitchen.
“Wow, okay—I’m officially moving in.”
His black granite counters are so shiny; I can see my reflection in them. His cabinets are painted milk-white, and every appliance is a cherry red Subzero or Wolf.
“I designed it myself and did all the renovation work. It’s what I do.”
“It’s stunning.
“Hey, Luca! You wanna play video games?”
“After we bake, Tommy.”
“But…that’s boring Dad. Can you and Mrs. Gilletti bake and Luca and I just eat them?”
“Yeah!” Luca chimes in.
The boys race to the den, leaving me standing alone with a man who’s more of a temptation than a slice of New York cheesecake.
I open my bag that he placed on the counter, taking out the sprinkles and candies.
He moves, standing behind me, pressing me against the cold granite. The heat from his body seeps into the back of my thighs.
I bite my lip, feeling my nipples harden; the front of his thighs brush against me. I’ve been turned on all day, never getting any relief.
He drops an apron over my head, and I groan as he pulls the strings tight, forcing my body flush against his. He grunts at the contact of my a
ss cradled by his hips.
“Kate…” He whispers dropping his head to the side of my neck, peppering it with hot kisses. I push my hips back further, itching to feel him through his jeans. This position always was my favorite, but I’m not a dirty slut like Becky. Some things should come before.
I turn in his arms grabbing his head.
He wastes no time shoving the ingredients out of the way. He lifts my one-hundred-and-forty-pound frame like it’s nothing and places me on the counter. Stepping in between my thighs, he looks me in the eyes and says, “You’re about to be on the naughty list.”
“Put me on it. I’ve been good for too long. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be bad.”
He slowly brings his face down, nipping at my lips before pulling back with a smile. He goes back for my lips, nibbling a little harder, then he pulls back, only to do it again and again.
He’s teasing me, drawing this out; treating our first kiss like foreplay. My mouth is yearning for more, this teasing is making me impatient for his mouth to fully claim mine.
My breasts are full, my nipples lonely. First, I want his kiss on my mouth and then on them.
“Can we get some snacks?”
I jump down so fast you’d think my pants were on fire. Well, my panties are anyway.
“Sure, buddy give me a sec,” Gianni says to Luca seeming totally unfazed as he gathers a bowl of goldfish and two juice boxes.
“Come here,” he demands with a crook of his finger.
I keep my head down, re-gathering ingredients instead. “I came here to make cookies not babies.”
“Ah, but we’d be so good at it.” He moves back behind me, nibbling on my ear.
But I’m stiff, the moment’s gone.
“Kate?”
“I-I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“O-k-a-y.” He responds annunciating every letter.
I slam the cookie cutters down with a bang; clouds of flour fill the air. “I let myself get caught up in flirting with you…having fun again.”
“So? What’s wrong with that?”
“I’m a single mom. I can’t act impulsively like I did when I was twenty-five.”
“Yeah, I know. Me, too.” he snorts. “It was just gonna be some kissing.”
“Yeah right.”
“You really think I’d start something here with the boys just in the other room? That all I’m looking for is a fling? With the mom of my son’s friend?”
No. But I might’ve ripped your shirt off and begged you to touch me.
“I don’t know. We just met three days ago.”
“Yeah, I get it. You see me as “man candy” huh, not boyfriend material. I’m a blue collar man who works with his hands busting up shit, not in a skyscraper in a suit. I’m not good enough for ya’ is that it?”
“What? N-o, Gianni…”
“Forget it. I thought we were on the same page here…I was hoping we could see where this goes. Never mind. Let’s just focus on the boys’ buddy thing and forget the rest.”
“Gianni,” I open my hands to him, “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but we haven’t even gone on a date. What was I supposed to think? That’s all it is. I actually think your big muscles are kinda sexy.”
His nostrils flare as he picks up his home phone punching in a few digits, “Ma? Hey, can you babysit Tommy and his friend on Wednesday night? I have a date. What? Yes, she’s Italian, no I don’t know her birth sign…Christ, it’s a date, not a wedding.”
“Virgo?”
“What?”
“You can tell her I’m a Virgo.”
“Ma? Hang on a sec—she says she’s a Virgo. NO! Not a virgin, Ma. A v-i-r-g-o! Jesus, I’ll see you then. Love ya’ bye.”
“God, that was embarrassing.”
“Well, maybe I am a v-i-r-g-i-n... ” I laugh sauntering towards him with flour-covered hands.
“Don’t you dare! Not in my custom-built kitchen!”
But he darts around me, grabs a handful of flour from the counter, and before I can blink—I’m covered.
I shriek, going for the bag. He tries to pin me, but I’ve got fast reflexes and dart around the center island. The four-foot slab of granite is the only thing between a man built like a beast and me. Maybe I should just let him catch me.
God knows I want him to.
He grins, crooking a finger at me.
I chuck a handful of flour right at his gorgeous dimples. Before I can scream, his long arms reach over the counter hauling me over. He could reach me the whole time, and I thought I was safe. Flour clings to his eyelashes. He lowers his powdery lips. I close my eyes, waiting for his kiss, but open them in shock as candy sprinkles rain down on my head instead.
“That was dirty!” I shriek, trying to bat his arm away. It doesn’t budge. His bicep is thicker than my thighs.
“Mom?”
“Dad?”
Gianni and I swivel our heads to the two boys standing under the doorway with their mouths’ hanging open.
“I... uh…we…” I stammer not knowing how to explain to the children what’s come over me…over us.
Gianni chucks a handful at them. They’re stunned for only a second before joining right in.
“Um, this is so good. Can we bake cookies every weekend?”
I smile, patting Luca on the head surveying the mess.
“I think we should help Mr. DeLuca clean up, it looks like an army of elves went to war in here.”
The boys giggle as they munch the last pieces of cookies left on their plates.
Gianni fiddles with his phone and a few seconds later, “Let it Snow” plays through built-in speakers in the ceiling.
“Can we get our decorations down from the attic?”
“It’s a school night, Tommy. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Aww come on Dad, I’m having so much fun!”
I make eye contact with Gianni and shrug, mouthing, “just one?”
He mouths back, “You are definitely going on my naughty list.”
I raise one eyebrow, “I hope so.”
He chokes on his cookie and chugs his glass of milk.
“All right. I’ll bring down one box, but you need to go bed on time tonight. I mean it, Tommy. I have an appointment in Brooklyn at ten tomorrow. I won’t have time to drive you to school if you miss the bus again.
“Why don’t you drop him off at my house? I can wait with Tommy and Luca and then you won’t have to worry about fighting traffic to make your meeting.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.” His eyes burn into mine, and my heart races again. He’s so damn sexy and such a fantastic father. I can’t believe for one minute I almost held Tony’s sins against him. Just because Gianni could pass as a Chippendale’s dancer and exudes sex with every breath he takes doesn’t mean he’s a dirty dog.
I can’t wait for our date on Wednesday. I want to find out more about his life…his family and how in the hell he ended up married to an airhead like Tiff.
“UGH, IS THIS TOO MUCH? Is it too slutty?” I ask myself in the mirror. I haven’t gone out on a first date in years. Turning sideways, I check out my ass covered in tight, black leather jeggings. I know I look damn hot, especially with the ivory lace bra I’m wearing. But Gianni won’t be seeing that tonight. I throw on a light gray cashmere sweater with glittery sparkles threaded through the fibers.
It hugs my breasts, but I’m not sure if it’s dressy enough. It’ll have to do. I don’t have time to tear through my closet again. Gianni will be here to pick Luca and me up any minute. He’s going to drop Luca back off at his house and drive us into Manhattan for dinner.
Definitely the leather pants. I slip on sparkly silver heels, add blush to my cheeks, and brush on a few coats of mascara. I curled my hair and fluffed it, so it hangs down my back in loose waves. After dabbing a few drops of perfume on my wrists, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
“Luca? Are you ready?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Did you pack your
pajamas?”
“Yeah, but can I just sleepover and have Mr. DeLuca take me to school?”
“No. Luca. I can’t believe I actually agreed to let you go over on a school night.”
I let my hormones control that decision.
The doorbell chimes and I race down the stairs.
“You look beautiful. These are for you.”
“Thank you.” I turn away blushing, clutching a dozen white roses as fresh as the first snow of winter. Their fragrant petals smell of romance and church weddings.
I sigh, could he possibly be the most perfect man?
Gianni follows me into the kitchen, whistling through his teeth, “Damn girl. I thought my kitchen was high end…”
I shrug, “Tony wanted a ‘showpiece’ house. I prefer a home. This is too big and too much for the two of us.” I answer glancing over the marble counters imported from Italy, and my custom built La Cornue stove that was shipped from France.
Tony loved bragging how it cost more than a new luxury car. I never use the damn thing. I always burned shit, since everything is in French.
“I’d actually like to sell in the next year or so. I’d do it sooner, but I’m afraid of too much change for Luca in such a short span of time.”
“Understandable. Hey, buddy, Tommy is excited to see you.” He says taking Luca’s backpack with one hand and reaching for me with his other.
I pause briefly to get my winter coat from the closet and lock up.
I hope he kisses me tonight—a real deep, toe-curling, melt-your-panties kind of kiss. I haven’t had one of those in a long time. A very long time.
My hands twist in my lap as Gianni navigates his truck through traffic. It smells new, and it’s spotless. The ride is also surprisingly smooth for a pick-up.
“You nervous?” He grins briefly at me before turning his focus back to the road.
“I haven’t dated since my marriage ended.”
“Me neither. This is fun though, right?”
“Yes, it is,” I answer. He’s so easy to be around. I’m not nervous. I’m excited—dying to feel his hands on me. Even though it’s our first date—we spent so much time together this past week it feels like our fifth.
“Where are we going anyway?”
“The Four Seasons.”