Grill Me, Baby

by Sophia Knightly

  Paolo’s head dipped and when his lips touched hers, Michaela couldn’t help moaning into his mouth, “Make love to me. I want you.”

  He held her face in his hands as he kissed her. Hot, sweet and spicy, his mouth on hers stoked a fire deep in her belly. She yanked at his shirt with closed fists, pulling him closer as they backed into her apartment until they reached the living room and the back of her thighs hit the sofa’s edge. The loud thud of her heartbeat turned into thunderous pounding as Paolo eased her onto the sofa.

  He knelt before her and pulled down the straps of her dress and bra until her breasts lay before him, bare and tilting upward, beckoning his attention. Her body thrummed and pulsated as he kissed the tips, his tongue swirling and circling her nipples until she almost climaxed from the wet assault.

  “Qué bella,” he groaned. His lips never left hers as he lifted her skirt and pulled her panties off. His hands slid up and down the length of her bare legs, petting her with long sweeping caresses. His fingertips lightly circled her slick feminine core until she was writhing helplessly. Michaela panted, her chest heaving and close to bursting, as she wound her fingers in Paolo’s satiny hair.

  “Take me,” she implored, her torso arching upward as she clawed at his shoulders.

  “Not here.”

  Paolo carried her into her bedroom. He flung the comforter aside and tumbled into bed with her, kissing her, caressing her body until she was out of her mind with wanting him. She whimpered when he tore himself away briefly to get a condom from his wallet. He made short work of shedding his clothes and pulling on the condom. His body was big and strong, corded with hard muscle and sinew.

  He returned to the bed and Michaela wrapped her arms around his broad back, molding herself beneath his solid weight. Paolo’s hungry palms slid under her bottom and hoisted her upward as he knelt between her thighs and slowly eased inside. The cords in his neck strained as he waited until she adjusted to him before he continued. Michaela’s pelvis arched upward and she cried out as his deep thrusts touched her sweet spot repeatedly until she was bucking wildly beneath him. Her fingers dug into his buttocks as he rode her with steady thrusts and she was certain she couldn’t take any more pleasure without dying. He looked deep in her eyes, his face ravaged with lust and need, and suddenly she shattered with a keening sob.

  “Maki,” Paolo murmured, his face flushed dark with passion, his eyes profoundly tender. Braced on his elbows, his biceps bulged as he pushed the damp strands from her face. He groaned, “Te amo,” and then burrowed even deeper inside until he let go with a hoarse roar.

  “I love you too.” She gazed at him through a blur of tears, happily replete with the feel of him still inside her.

  Paolo turned their bodies sideways and spooned her, his strong knees tucked behind hers. One brown hand languidly rested on the pale curve of her hip. Michaela smiled to herself. It was deliciously erotic and she loved it—the possessive way Paolo held her anchored against him.

  Michaela was the first to wake up. At six in the morning, she was ravenously hungry, not for food, but for Paolo. Never in her thirty years had she let go so completely. The second time they had made love had not been as rushed and vigorous as the first. In the darkness of her room, they had learned each other’s bodies, taking their time. Paolo was tender and passionate, everything she’d ever wanted in a man. Not wanting to awaken him, she tried to carefully extricate herself from his embrace, but his eyes opened and he tightened his hold on her.

  “Hey, where are you going, linda?” he inquired in a satiated, lazy drawl. Paolo’s jet-black hair was mussed up and his jaw line was shadowed with morning bristle. He looked appetizing and wicked hot. He regarded her from beneath a heavy-lidded gaze, silently luring her back to bed.

  Michaela’s heart swelled with joy as she gazed into his dark, slumberous eyes. “Oh, no you don’t. I have to get to the hospital to check on my aunts.”

  “You’re right.” He made a rueful face.

  “Besides, I’m already sore in places I haven’t felt in a long while,” she added.

  “Oh?” His black eyes glinted with devilish intent. “Perhaps you need a massage.”

  “Perhaps,” she said coyly, running her hands over the light pelt of hair covering his broad chest.

  “You’re in luck. I have had a lot of experience with massages lately. I’m just the one to deliver it.” He rolled her over onto her stomach and gave her two lusty smacks on her unprotected backside.

  “Hey! What was that?” she demanded, indignantly rearing up. Rude slaps on her bottom were the last kind of massage she had expected!

  “Slavic massage, Irina,” he growled in a Russian accent.

  A guilty giggle escaped Michaela as Paolo rolled her over and pinned her beneath him, nuzzling her neck with his unshaven jaw. She slapped at his arm. “So you knew all along that it was me massaging you?” she asked incredulously.

  Paolo nodded smugly.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, embarrassed and not pleased at having the tables turned on her.

  A delighted grin lit his face. “I was waiting for the right time.”

  “Ooh, you are impossible!” She pushed at his chest when he burst into hearty chuckles. “And a handful.”

  “So are you. A delectable one.” With a wicked grin, he cupped his hand, reminding her that he had just had a handful of her bottom moments earlier. “I never gave up on you, Maki. After the competition, I fully intended to make you mine.”

  “We’ll probably spend all our time fighting,” she stated, trying not to be enticed by those rakish dimples. “I’m a perfectionist and, and…”

  “You are bossy, pig-headed, and a little rabiosa, but we both know I won’t be bossed around,” he interjected.

  “Yes, well…”

  “But we’ll work it out. I can’t think of anyone else I want to be with.”

  “I feel the same way,” she admitted. “Even though you turn my orderly life upside down, Paolo.”

  “And you center me, amor.” He flashed a cocky grin. “Sounds like a great combination to me.”

  “What about Miami Spice?” she said weakly. Michaela had already decided that she would do her utmost to win and then put it up to fate. No more putting work before her private life. There had to be a happy medium. She was through with being alone. She wanted love and marriage…and babies someday. But mostly she wanted Paolo. He had once told her that he hadn’t married because he hadn’t found a girl who’d put her husband and family first in her life. She wanted to loudly proclaim, “I am that girl!”

  “The hell with Miami Spice. I want you.” His eyes flashed black fire as he held her enthralled, waiting for her answer.

  “I’m yours, darling.” She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his smiling mouth with gusto. “But we have to get going,” she said, remembering her aunts’ plight.

  Michaela swung her legs over the side of the bed and pulled her discarded dress over her head to shield her naked body from Paolo’s hungry gaze. Her muscles, some in quite intimate places, felt deliciously sore as she walked out of the bedroom with as much dignity as she could muster. She blushed when she saw her panties flung on the floor beside the sofa, recalling her total abandon. She had been so far gone with desire she had urged Paolo to take her right here on her pristine sofa.

  This time Michaela couldn’t blame it on champagne. She had been stone cold sober. Well, not really sober. She had been deliriously drunk with wanting him!

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mikey was acting extra fussy this morning and had kept Claudia up most of the night. She was anxious for him to fall asleep so she could finally take a nap. She had just finished changing Mikey’s diaper and was trying to lull him asleep when she heard the insistent knock on the door. She hoisted her son’s squirming little body on her shoulder and headed toward it.

 
; “I’m coming, I’m coming! Did you forget your keys, Paolo?” Claudia demanded, flinging the door open.

  Bobby. Claudia blinked. Her mouth fell open and her blood roared in her ears when she saw her husband standing before her. Shivers ran up and down her arms as if she had been caught naked in a blizzard. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Her husband had found her and caught her holding their baby. He was going to kill her for not telling him about Mikey.

  “Bambi,” he said quietly.

  Claudia’s heart skipped a beat at hearing his nickname for her. He stretched out strong arms—arms that had once held her pressed against his heart while he crooned endearments.

  “Come here, baby.” Bobby’s deep voice hit her at her knees, crippling her with the potent urge to run into his arms and never let him go. His startling blue eyes held her immobile—crystal, sapphire ones that made her breath catch in her suddenly constricted throat.

  “Bobby, what are you doing here?” she managed to whisper.

  Her husband stood before her, long, muscular legs spread, head tilted to one side as he studied her intently. Bobby robbed her of her senses, just like he always had. But he looked different—more mature, tougher. In six months, Bobby had gone from cute guy to imposing man. When she didn’t move forward, he dropped his arms and nodded toward Mikey where he rested on Claudia’s shoulder, noisily sucking his thumb. He bridged the gap between them in one stride.

  “Is that our boy?” he asked.

  Bobby’s question almost knocked her to the floor. He already knew about Mikey? How? When? A million questions raced through her mind, making her fidget and twitch nervously as she stared at him as if he were an apparition. Even though he was acting calm, she could feel the uncoiled tension in his hard body. The unspoken truth about their baby was a massive weight bearing down on her chest, fraying her last nerve.

  “Yes,” she finally managed. She looked down at the floor and then closed her eyes, willing strength into her heart. She felt unhinged and vulnerable wearing the mauve silk robe that Bobby had given her last Valentine’s Day. With a pang, she remembered that he had always loved seeing her in that robe.

  Bobby leaned forward and took her chin in his hand, forcing her face upward as he studied her with those damn blue eyes. “Aren’t you going to let me in?”

  “Eh…em…bueno. I guess so,” she babbled, edging away. She realized she sounded like an idiot. All she knew was that her legs were wobbling and she was worried she might start hyperventilating.

  Bobby followed her into the living room with a loose-limbed gait. His navy polo shirt strained over his shoulders. Well-worn jeans cupped his muscular butt and hard thighs commanding her undivided attention. She took a steadying breath and averted her gaze.

  “Let me hold him,” he said, settling on her couch.

  “Maybe later. He’s a little fussy right now,” Claudia hedged, sitting across from him.

  “I can handle a tiny baby,” he said with confidence. Bobby regarded her with a mixture of love and exasperation.

  Why was he acting so composed, so in control of his emotions? Claudia had expected him to be furious that she had not told him she was pregnant. But he was acting unruffled, like nothing was wrong. Who had told him? Paolo?

  Her brother, the snitch, had run out last night after throwing a sandwich and a thermos in a bag, making a ruckus about Maki needing him. He had told Claudia he would be gone most of the night. Good, because she was so furious with him for spilling the news about Mikey without giving her the chance to tell her husband first, she didn’t know what she would do to Paolo if he suddenly walked through the door.

  Claudia reluctantly handed Mikey to Bobby and was amazed when Mikey didn’t fuss. Bobby rested him on his knees, holding Mikey’s little body in his large hands as he closely looked at his son.

  “Hey, son, looks like your mamá has been feeding you well.” Bobby smiled at Claudia and her heart flipped. “He looks just like me. Same nose. Same eyes.”

  “He has my eyes,” Claudia countered, her gumption surfacing to bolster her.

  “No, he doesn’t, Bambi. You have brown eyes and our son’s eyes are blue.”

  “All babies have blue eyes. They might turn dark later—”

  “His won’t. They’ll be as blue as mine,” he stated with smug certainty.

  “Well, Mikey has my chin,” she retorted.

  “That he does.” Bobby tapped the tiny cleft in Claudia’s chin. “And it’s as stubborn as ever.”

  After a loaded pause, Claudia uttered the burning question lodged in her throat. “How did you know about him? Who told you?”

  “Your neighbor. Señora Fuentes.”

  Claudia was stunned, but he could not possibly be making it up. How else would he know her neighbor’s name? “Señora Fuentes? When did she tell you?” she demanded.

  “The day you finally returned my calls, but didn’t leave a message. When I called you back, Señora Fuentes answered and said you were taking a bath. That’s when she lit into me.” He shook his head wryly.

  “Serves you right!”

  “Man, she gave me hell about you having to raise your baby alone and at such a young age. When I told her I had no idea you were even pregnant and that I would never have allowed you to go through it alone, she finally believed me and gave me your address.”

  “Oh, God,” Claudia groaned. “She should have never done that!” Paolo had warned her that Señora Fuentes was a busybody, but Claudia loved her all the same. The kind widow had been like a surrogate mother to her and she was fun company.

  “I’m glad she did.” Bobby gave her a reproachful look. “At least somebody did the mature thing.”

  “You think you did the mature thing?” Claudia’s chin rose defiantly. “I did try calling you, remember? When you didn’t pick up, I texted you the next day.”

  “I was already on a flight over. I figured I’d come see you before you tried to put more barriers between us.”

  “I had a good reason to put up those barriers.” Past resentment mushroomed inside her. “You thought you had the perfect solution to go on your newest adventure—just send the little wifey back to Buenos Aires. As you can see, I never left,” she said triumphantly.

  “Damn it, you led me to believe you were going back.” Bobby’s face registered shock, then disapproval.

  “No, I didn’t,” she retorted. “I never agreed to anything.”

  “I would have never given up trying to reach you if I hadn’t thought you were safe with your family.” Bobby’s jaw worked as he visibly strove to keep cool. “No wonder you wouldn’t return my calls. You didn’t want me to know where you were.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Claudia,” he began in a strained tone. “We both know it wasn’t an adventure. I worked damn hard in those oil sands. And I did it only to make good money for us.”

  “I told you it was over if you left me! But you left anyway,” she stubbornly persisted.

  Bobby’s clear blue eyes turned turbulent. “We’re married. I took that vow to mean forever,” he stated evenly. “Why didn’t you let me know when you found out you were pregnant?”

  “I didn’t want you to come back to me because of Mikey,” she said, her voice rising. “Which is exactly what you did.”

  “I told you I was coming back,” he replied angrily. “I was always going to come back to you when the six months were up. Señora Fuentes saved me from buying a ticket to Argentina. Remind me to thank her one day.” Taking a deep breath, he looked at the ceiling and then back at Claudia as if trying to summon divine patience. He glanced down at his son. “You named him Mikey?”

  “His full name is Michael Robert Woodbridge.” She fought the hot tears that burned the back of her eyelids.

  Bobby nodded. “I like it.”

  Claudia’s heart ached as she watched
father and son, alike in many ways, bonding naturally. “Bobby.” She paused and swallowed hard against the clogging, emotional knot in her throat. “Did Señora Fuentes tell you about the horrible problems your parents are causing?”

  “No.” Bobby’s body stiffened and his eyes narrowed into sharp blue lasers. “What problems are they causing?”

  By the time Claudia finished telling Bobby about his parents and their cutthroat lawyer, Max Weintraub, Bobby’s self-control dissolved. His jaw clenched and unclenched as a play of fierce emotions crossed his face—shock, fury, indignation.

  “I wish you had told me about it sooner. You wouldn’t have had to deal with all their crap,” he said, his tight voice laced with disgust. “Don’t worry, Bambi. To hell with their lawyer and to hell with them. Now that I’m back, I’ll take care of this. They won’t mess with us again.”

  The doorbell rang, startling Claudia and waking up Mikey who had just nodded off in Bobby’s arms.

  “Who’s that?” Bobby asked, glancing at the door impatiently. “Paolo?”

  “I don’t think so unless he forgot his keys.” Claudia hesitated, not moving a muscle to answer the door. She wanted this time alone with Bobby. The last thing they needed was an interruption.

  “Want me to get it?”

  “No, I will.”

  Claudia opened the door and almost shut it again when she saw the cute and friendly neighbor she had met a week ago while sunbathing by the pool. Juan Ramirez was a senior at the University of Miami, studying business. They had struck up a pleasant conversation in Spanish when he had gone down for a study break. With a pang of regret, Claudia realized she should have never told him she was staying with Paolo. Juan had misread her friendliness and he’d gotten the wrong idea. Claudia was so starved for friends, she had been thrilled to find someone young and Spanish-speaking in Paolo’s building.