The Italian: A Mountain Man Romance

by Hazel Parker

  She shook her head without thinking. “Whatever you want is fine.”

  I knew this town better than the back of my hand, and I knew that the best places weren’t the most popular ones, but the hole-in-the-wall places.

  “Then I know the best place for us.”

  I took her hand, leading her to my bike. “You remember the rules, don’t you?”

  She giggled and nodded. “Yes.”

  “This is Heaven.”

  “Really, Warren? You’re laying it on kind of thick.”

  I laughed again, sliding my hands over my handlebar. “No, baby. Her. My bike. Her name is Heaven.”

  “Oh,” she said blushing again. “Nice to meet you?”

  “Well, I figure since you’re about to ride her again, it was time you get acquainted.”

  “So your bike is a girl?”

  “Yeah. Look at that body,” I said, admiring the sleek lines of the chrome and design. “Look at those lines. She’s beautiful. Only a woman would look like that. Plus, I only allow women to hold and touch this package,” I said, pointing to my crotch.

  Red bent forward as she burst into a fit of giggles so strong she forgot to be worried. I could tell her amusement took over whatever had been on her mind.

  “Let’s go,” she said, waiting for me to get on. I liked that impatience. I was hoping she felt the opposite when lunch was over.

  Chapter Seven – Red

  Warren drove for some time and I forgot to overthink or worry about him. There was no room for worry or stress when I was holding tightly to the abs of Warren and laying my cheek against the strong sinew of his back. I felt so safe, though my body was open to the elements and the slight tilt of the body on this bike could be fatal. Maybe it was knowing how much he cared about his bike. Even if I wasn’t sure how he felt about me, I knew he wouldn’t let his bike crash or get scratched up. Which meant I was in good hands.

  Warren drove quickly, with no regard for the speed limit or the law, until we turned into a dilapidated neighborhood. I would never go here without Warren, but he strode confidently towards a house that I wasn’t sure was even inhabited.

  But Warren knocked on the door.

  “Que? Esperame,” a woman called loudly from the front before the door swung open. I had to adjust my view as the woman was much shorter than her large voice portrayed. She was curvy, curvier than me, with golden curls tied up into a huge waterfall at the top of her head. She looked like a pineapple.

  “Hola, Warren,” she said, smiling widely. She spared me a quick glance before turning around to walk back inside her house.

  “Come on,” he said grabbing my hand. “You’re going to love it.”

  I hesitated, but the smell grabbed me by the nose as soon as I stepped over the threshold. I didn’t know what it was, but it smelled delicious. Smells of fried food, onions, and cheese tickled my nose and begged me to get a taste.

  “Oh my God,” I groaned. “What is that?

  Warren chuckled with understanding. “It’s the greatest tacos you’ll ever eat on earth.”

  Warren pulled me past a decrepit wooden staircase, a flattened couch, and a TV with Spanish pouring out to take me into a kitchen.

  The kitchen had been turned into a small restaurant, with three round tables and a few chairs to the side of a regular kitchen.

  “Siéntate,” she commanded, standing over us with her hands on her wide hips. “Me llamo Vilma Yohana González Días.”

  I stared up at her, both uncomfortable by the intrusion of personal space and trying to remember the little bit of Spanish I learned in high school.

  “Hola. Me llamo Alyssa.”

  She smiled widely, revealing a few gold teeth, and leaned forward to kiss me on both cheeks, as if rewarding me for knowing the right thing to say.

  “Mucho gusto.”

  I wasn’t sure what exactly that meant. “Say it back,” Warren said not whispering. “It means nice to meet you.”

  She stared silently, but still smiling. “Mucho gusto,” I said to her approval.

  She and Warren began an entire conversation in Spanish, leaving me as the third wheel while she prepared something and dropped it into a big pan of oil. I sat beside Warren, mesmerized, and not sure who this man was. He was nothing like what I thought a biker would be. He was kind, funny, a hellion in the bed, and somehow fluent in Spanish.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulders. “We were just catching up. I haven’t been here in a while and Vilma was shocked that when I finally showed, I brought a friend.”

  “You’ve never done that before?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. This is usually a single outing or the entire MC kind of thing. I’ve never brought a woman with me.”

  The woman said something in Spanish, and it looked like Warren blushed. “What did she say?”

  “She said you look like marriage material. She’s been on me for being single for a while.”

  “Aww,” I said, leaning into his touch. “Are you blushing?”

  He leaned so close, I thought he would kiss me. “Don’t forget, Red, at the end of the day, I’m still a biker. You wouldn’t want me to have to take your over my knee, would you?”

  His words shot straight in between my legs and I wondered if he could see the lust in my eyes. “No,” I whispered.

  “Too bad,” he said with a Cheshire grin. “I would have loved to do that.”

  I sighed loudly and tried to remember where I was. I couldn’t do this. How could I be into a man I barely know when I had no idea if I’d be able to survive past next week? There was too much on my mind. I was stressed with a capital S: about my husband, who refused to be my ex, money, and my car. I had a part-time job, which was how I met Daniella, but she paid me under the table. Which meant I had to take a serious pay cut because I could not risk being tracked by my card.

  Warren slid his finger under my chin, bringing me out of my head. “Hey.” His eyes were full of concern. “Where did you go?”

  What could I tell him? Nothing. I wanted to tell him. He looked trustworthy and I wanted to believe he would help if he knew, but I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk believing I was anything but a one-night stand that he wasn’t done with yet.

  “Nothing,” I said, dismissing it and turning against his grip so I didn’t have to look him in the eye.

  I couldn’t tell him a thing. If he figured out my past, somehow, he would underestimate Bryant and do something stupid, and then Bryant would find me. Some might say that’s irrational, but irrational has been keeping me alive. Anybody could be on Bryant’s payroll. He had the most unexpected people in his pocket. I wouldn’t put a biker past him. Once he hired a homeless man to follow me around all day when he still allowed me to work and it scared me so bad I ended up looking over my shoulder for months.

  “So we’re back to that shit.” He pulled his arm from my shoulder and in his absence, I felt cold, but instead of pulling completely away, he pulled me onto his lap. “Red, I thought we were past this.”

  “Past what?” I knew what he meant, but I didn’t want to face whatever would happen if I relented.

  “Past the lies.” He pulled me forward until we were breathing the same air. “Look, if you don’t want to trust me, fine. You don’t have to tell me. But say that shit. Don’t say nothing. I can tell it’s been something since I met you.”

  Vilma brought two plates with tightly rolled tortillas with shredded lettuce and some white sauce to the table. She had slipped on a colorful apron while we were arguing, and from it, she pulled napkins and hot sauce.

  I tried to slide away from him, trying to allow the distraction of food to interrupt us, but he held tightly to me.

  “You obviously have a lot of shit that’s going on, and believe me, baby, I ain’t trying to add to that. But don’t punish me for shit I didn’t do.” His grip loosened as his hands slid up my sides and to my breasts. I gasped as he tweaked my nipples through my bra. “Now,” he
growled, “eat your tacos.”

  He picked me up, moving me from his lap before sitting me down beside him. “And hurry up, because we got plans later.”

  I thought he was going to take me back to the shop and fix my car. “We do?” I hated the way my voice squeaked.

  “Yeah,” he said, burning me with his gaze. “We do. I plan to make up for the morning we missed out on.”

  Oh shit. I took a deep breath, trying to see if he was serious. The way he bit into my taco told me he meant exactly what he said and was daring me to say otherwise.

  I waited for the fear or guilt to set in and found nothing. All that I felt was desire and unbridled lust at what waited when lunch was over.

  He looked at me out the corner of his eyes, making it clear I needed to start eating. I smiled and picked up a taco, groaning as the savory taste exploded on my tongue. Neither one of us said anything until we finished eating the six tacos Vilma served.

  “Don’t you have to get back to the shop?” I asked as he thanked Vilma, paid her much more than six tacos should cost, and pulled us outside.

  “Nope. I’m part owner. I can do what I want. I’m sure someone else will be working on your car.”

  “But…”

  “But nothing,” he said, climbing onto his bike and handing me my helmet. “I got more important matters to attend to.”

  Chapter Eight –Warren

  I really did have more important things to do – like stick my fingers in Red’s warm honey.

  She walked into my house calmer than I’d thought she would be, given how stressed she was at Vilma’s. Her hands skimmed over my simple furniture and considered the mismatch chairs and tables that I got from thrift stores.

  “Red,” I said, liking too much the vision of her standing in my living room.

  “Yeah?” she asked, turning to me. Her body was outlined in gold from the sunlight behind her.

  “Come here,” I said, holding my hand out.

  She came without arguing, and I caressed her face, enjoying the second chance I fought for. Our first time was rushed. This time, I was going to make her second guess leaving my bed again. Her eyes fluttered before closing as my finger stroked across her cheek, down her nose, and over her plump lips.

  Then I kissed her like she was my oxygen, a slow burn that was keeping me standing, keeping my feet on the ground. I wanted her. I needed her. I was craving her.

  Every inch of that curvy body.

  My fingertips glided down her neck and over her shoulders as she shivered under my touch. She moaned into my mouth and I swallowed it as my hands grasped her firm breasts. Her hands skimmed under my shirt, over my abs, and my body clenched at her touch.

  I pulled away slightly, to pull her shirt over her head. I wanted to see her reaction to my touch. Her bra was white and plain, and yet so striking against her gorgeous skin. I pulled it down, not bothering to unhook it.

  Her lips parted as I stroked her nipples, going over each pebbled nub like a joystick, pushing it to the left and right before pinching it and pulling it toward me.

  Her eyes closed as her head fell back. My right hand left her breasts and found her pant buttons.

  Her body jerked as I rubbed her over her clothing.

  “Oh god,” she purred, rubbing against my palm like a cat.

  “Nope. Just me, baby,” I said, trying to remain cool.

  She rolled her hips into my hands as I unbuckled her jeans and pushed them down with her panties. She didn’t need prodding as she stepped out the pants and her shoes. She unhooked her bra until she was standing in front of me, naked and not shy.

  I stared down at her body awestruck. She was so beautiful. I froze, running through all the reasons in my head why I should stop things, leave this girl alone, and walk away. She was too everything. Too good. Too sweet. Too innocent. And too sexy for me.

  I didn’t deserve her.

  She stood on her tiptoes, like she could hear me thinking, and kissed me on the lips. That was all I needed. Our mouths pressed together with a need so powerful, it hurt. One hand grabbed her ass and the other found its way into her wet center.

  “Warren.”

  The way my name slipped off her tongue made me want to do more things to her. I allowed my finger to slide into her wet opening. She gasped and arched her back, pushing me deeper. I was surprised by how tight she seemed and wondered last night just how long had it been since her last time. She was like a god damn virgin, and even now, her little cunt was clinging to me like she’d never been pleasured.

  I fingered her, letting her writhe and beg for more before adding another finger.

  “Oh god,” she muttered, and she squeezed my wrist.

  “I need you,” she said in a quick breath.

  “Not yet,” I said, going to my knees. She smelled so delicious. I leaned closer, putting my nose to bare slit, and inhaled. “God, Red.”

  She mewled, running her hand over my head.

  I pushed her legs open wider, causing her to grip my shoulder without a wall to hold her up. My head tilted up and I drank from her like she was a goddamn water fountain. She tasted like heaven, and her moans were a fucking bonus. She cried out as my tongue circled her clit. I flicked hard, loving the way she scratched my scalp with her nails as I lapped harder.

  “I’m going to come,” she said, placing her hand on my hand to stop me, but that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Then come,” I mumbled into her opening.

  “But.”

  I stopped her words with two thick fingers up her canal.

  I was on a mission to taste Red right from the goddamn source. I wanted to drown in her cunt.

  My fingers worked her to a frenzy, and she humped against my face.

  “Warren. I–”

  I reached up to pinch her nipples. She was talking too much.

  With my tongue on her clit, my fingers in her cunt, and my other hand on her nipple, her body was overwhelmed by pleasure. I leaned a little forward, stretching so my tongue could reach her tightened ass, before sticking my thumb up there and she screamed and her pussy tightened around my digits.

  “Oh! Oh! Ah,” she moaned as she held onto whatever she could get her grip on before she went limp. “Ugh.” She yanked me by my beard until I stood. “I need you. Now.”

  We weren’t going to make it to the bedroom. I pushed her towards the couch and she leaned into her fall. Her knees fell into place, and bracing herself over the arm, she pushed her incredible ass out and up.

  I dragged my fingers down the column of her spine, noticing a long, faded scar. I traced down it with my finger before leaning over to kiss it. I wondered what happened there, but now wasn’t the time.

  “Please. Please, Warren. Don’t tempt me anymore,” she said, pushing against my cock.

  I covered her like a blanket; I wanted as much of her skin on mine as possible, but still hadn’t slid inside her wet walls.

  I pushed her legs open a little more and gripped the curve of her backside before lining my cock with her entrance. “Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight,” I said through my teeth as I thrust into her tight opening.

  “Fuck,” she sung, clenching the fabric.

  I kept trying to remember to go slow, to savor this, but she had another plan.

  “Oh yes. Fuck me,” she said pushing back against me. “Harder!”

  I wasn’t going to ignore that. I had to make sure my baby got what she needed.

  I hammered into her so hard the sofa moved along the wood, scooting forward like we were experiencing an earthquake. I kept going, not willing to stop, and only seeing our orgasms at the end.

  “You like that?”

  She whimpered, nodding as her pussy grabbed my cock in a firm grip.

  “Yes.”

  Her lush curves pushed against me and froze as her body trembled.

  There it was. “Come on, baby. Give it to me.”

  I reached forward, searching for her clit, rubbing her to the best orgasm o
f her life.

  It was close. Almost. I rubbed it softly before pinching it, and she screamed. Right there.

  That’s what I needed, and I didn’t give a damn if my neighbors heard.

  “Come for me, Warren.”

  How could I ignore that? I couldn’t. Not with her pussy milking my body and begging me to join her.

  I rolled my hips, extending her orgasm and her pleasure as I eased myself in and out of her, straining to hold on just a few seconds longer.

  I slammed myself as deep as I could inside her wetness once more, and then felt my cock spurt without my permission, losing the battle with self as I coated her walls

  “Oh, right there, baby,” she said, slowing our pace, but continuing to ride my dick until we were both done.

  I pulled out and grabbed her with the last of my energy to carry her to my room. That couch was small and I couldn’t imagine it was all that comfortable, considering where I bought it. I needed a nap to recharge, and I’d be damned if we did it anywhere but my bed.

  Once under the covers, I held her body close to mine, barely able to keep my eyes open.

  “You’re going to be here when I wake up?” I asked in the silence, hoping she was still awake.

  She blushed but turned indignant.

  “Why do you care? It’s just a one-night stand.”

  I considered what she said. Maybe she was right...at one time, but not anymore. “Who said it was that? Can’t you count? This is our second time together.”

  She laughed a little but sobered. “We can’t get attached.”

  I had never had a woman tell me that, and to be honest, I didn’t know what to say to it.

  “Whatever this is,” she said, pointing between us, “it’s not worth staying for.”

  Well damn. How could she say that after what we just experienced? Plus, how the fuck would she even know? She hadn’t given us a chance. Was it me? Maybe she felt like the majority of the population feels: it’s dangerous to get involved with a biker. But she didn’t know me. I always protected what was mine.

  “How would you know that?”

  “I just do,” she said, shrugging and pulling out from my embrace.