Nico nodded, almost a salute—no surprise, since he’d been in the military—and shut the door after Lorenzo got in.
No one said anything as Nico drove back to North Beach. Lita closed her eyes most of the way. The bright sun was too bright. She wanted darkness, quiet…and a pint of chocolate ice cream. She let out a half-laugh, half-sob and covered her eyes with her hand.
Grandpop held her other hand. His hand was a little rough, but strong and steady. She could breathe. Just breathe.
“Lita—“ Lorenzo said.
“Lorenzo,” Grandpop interrupted. “Not now. We’ll go to my house so you two can talk in private.”
“I can’t,” Lita whispered. Now her voice held tears in it, quavering.
“You want to be married,” Grandpop said. “You have to talk. I’ll be near.”
Lita nodded. She pulled a handkerchief out of the pocket of her skirt and dabbed at her eyes. Nico drove the car into the garage at Grandpop’s. They all walked into the house, Grandpop escorting her to a small study. She sat on a green sofa. Lorenzo stood next it, rigid.
“I’ll be in the kitchen, right across the hall,” Grandpop said.
“Thank you,” Lita said.
“No listening in,” Lorenzo said.
Lita frowned.
“I learned that lesson.” Grandpop shut the door on his way out.
Lita pushed out a breath. A clock on the mantel ticked out the minutes. The room had book-lined shelves and a desk across from the sofa in one corner, a fireplace in the other corner.
“I guess I should be glad he didn’t show me a picture of you over a dead body.” Lita frowned. She didn’t like herself much when she got sarcastic or bitchy. She liked being cheerful, silly even. Tears threatened again. She grabbed her handkerchief.
“I hurt you. I’m sorry.”
“So that photo was real?”
“Yeah.”
She twisted her handkerchief. “She’s married? Why, Lorenzo? After the way your father cheated on your mom?” That was about all she knew of Lorenzo’s father, other than rumors of his corrupt ways.
“We were consenting adults. I never seduced anyone.”
“That makes it okay? Because women threw themselves at you?” She gripped her stomach, hugging herself.
“No. I told you, I’ve done a lot of things wrong. I can’t change any of that.”
She glanced at him. No, no one could change his past. And she’d accepted his, or so she’d thought. “Are you just going to stand there?”
He sat, no less tense, on the sofa next to her. He gripped his hands together as he leaned forward.
“I said I accepted your past.” Her voice was thick with the tears filling her throat. “But, is that how you like it? Rough like that?” She hadn’t gotten past kissing, not in reality. She had a full fantasy life, always about Lorenzo. Sometimes she’d fantasized about him taking control, but not like that. She couldn’t be like that. Her face heated.
“Sometimes.” He rubbed his fingers together. “I don’t expect…” He ran his hands through his hair. He edged closer. She tensed. He touched her arm. “I want you, Lita. I want to be with you. No expectations.”
“I want to wait, until our wedding night.” She had expectations: she expected it to be special, a dream come true. And he must have expectations. She leaned back.
“I understand.” He rubbed her arm.
She closed her eyes. “Hold me,” she whispered.
He pulled her close. She pressed her cheek into his chest. They were together. She was enough. She sighed. She hoped she was enough.
***
Lita smoothed her skirt before going downstairs to meet Lorenzo. They’d barely seen each other the last two days, since he’d dropped her at home after the meeting with Volkov, and their talk at Grandpop’s. Grandpop had wanted to meet with him again, and then Lee. She and Lorenzo had both been busy. With Gina, Paolo, and Celeste, Lita had been shopping, planning, finding a wedding dress—all it took to put together a wedding in less than a week. Lita’d never even been to a wedding, much less planned one. She fiddled with her small hoop earring.
“Hello?” Lita called. The house was quiet.
“In here,” Lorenzo said, she thought from the living room.
Lita smiled and walked to the doorway. She stopped. Lorenzo stood in the center of the room, dressed in his usual sleek, dark loafers and slacks, cashmere V-neck sweater, his short hair as well-groomed as the rest of him. His intense gaze and his masculine scent captivated her. She gripped the molding around the doorway. A bright fire lit the room, the lights were dimmed. The creams and blues of the décor mellowed in the low light, warming the room along with the blaze in the marble and antique-molded fireplace. This beautiful house, this gorgeous, wonderful man—a feeling swelled in her, she was so overwhelmed, so blessed. She rubbed a hand over her throat, fighting the urge to laugh and cry, go down on her knees in thanks.
“Something wrong?” Lorenzo said, still gazing at her.
Lita shook her head. “Uncle Enzo and Celeste gone?”
He nodded. “You sure you didn’t want to go with him and Celeste? I know you love Tony Bennett too.”
“I love you more.” Lita rushed into Lorenzo’s arms, burying her cheek in his chest. She breathed him in, his masculine, solid presence surrounded her, his spicy scent at once comforting and exciting. He caressed her back and kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him, resting her chin on his hard pecs.
Brushing her hair back with his fingers, his touch filled her with lightness—floating, a feather in a gentle breeze.
“I love you, my angel,” Lorenzo said in a low voice.
She went on tiptoes, anticipating a kiss. Lorenzo released her. She slouched, plopped back to earth off the cloud she’d built. Taking her hand, Lorenzo pulled her to the couch. Two glasses of champagne and some chocolate-covered strawberries were laid out on a tray with a small ribbon-wrapped box. She stood still. No one had ever done anything like this for her.
“What’s wrong?” Lorenzo grasped both her hands, making her face him.
“Nothing.” She smiled. Why was he being so romantic? She shook her head. He loves you. Why couldn’t she have stayed with the happy feeling?
He pushed out a breath. “I’m not just some guy, Lita. I know you’ve had to protect yourself. You’re not alone anymore.”
Lita darted her eyes around the room. She didn’t want to remember bad times. Lorenzo took her cheeks in his hands until she had to meet his steady gaze. The touch of his hands, warm and smooth, brought tears to her eyes. He let go and sat on the couch, pulling her down next to him. He handed her a glass and drank from his own. Lita sipped hers. He presented her with a strawberry. She hesitantly bit into it while he held it. Juice dribbled onto her chin. He kissed it off. She exhaled in a slow release.
Before she could take a breath, his mouth took hers in a deep, intense kiss. She put her hands on his chest, pushing slightly, her thoughts spinning. He moved his hands over her, his touch drawing away all her thoughts, leaving her alert with sensation, raw emotion. He leaned into her, pressing her back into the couch. Panic gripped her throat. With a muffled cry, she pushed on his chest. He sat up, his breathing in small gusts. Lita hugged her arms.
“You said you understood.” Her voice sounded tight, strangled. Her ears hummed. She wanted to wait.
Lorenzo rubbed a hand over his face. Then he looked at her, his gaze steady, tender. He held her hand again. The fire crackled. She focused on her breath, their palms pressed together.
“I understand. I’m not trying to have sex with you, not tonight. I want to be close to you. Tell me what you want.”
He loved her. And she loved him more than anything. She touched his arm. Inhaling deeply, she came back to the moment. She was here, with the man she’d loved for years, her dreams about to come true. “I want to be close to you, too. I’m not used to this. I get so happy but then afraid I’ll do something wrong.”
�
�I like it when you’re happy.” Lorenzo grasped her hand and kissed it. “There’s no wrong in this, Lita. This is new to me too.”
She grimaced. He tickled her sides until she giggled and leaned back, gasping.
“Being with you, being in love is new to me. Let’s explore together.”
She nodded. She didn’t have to pretend with him. He knew her, knew she could be silly and scared, knew she’d always wanted to get married and have children, knew her past and what she wanted for her future. She was the one who needed to know him better.
Lorenzo reached with his free hand, giving her the small box from the table. She sat up and opened it. Tissue paper crinkled as she moved it aside, revealing a sparkling heart. “Oh,” she breathed out as she held up the gold diamond heart on its thin gold chain. She glanced at him, her chest light and warm. He slid it from her and around her neck. It brushed her bare skin, at first chill then warm from her own heat. He fastened the clasp and left his hands on her. His touch pulsated through her. She grasped his left hand—soon she’d place a ring on his finger, he on hers, and they’d be together, forever.
“I give you my heart, Lita,” he said in a low, rough voice. “Whatever happens, when you wear this, remember you have my heart.”
Lita faced him. “You’ve always had mine, now and forever. I love you.”
“I love you,” he said. He caressed her, from her forehead to her chin, letting his hand linger.
She pressed his hand over her heart and snuggled into him. Slipping off her shoes, she tucked her feet onto the couch. Lorenzo wrapped an arm around her, enclosing her in his embrace. He twirled her hair in his fingers. She relaxed into him. Their love enveloped her like a presence in the room—a warm breeze, a guardian angel’s invisible embrace.
He wanted to keep her safe—he’d said he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. He deserved more than a scared girl—he deserved the strong, confident, loving woman she could be, the one who’d built a life away from home, who’d taken care of her father, managed his affairs and estate, who volunteered in classrooms and food banks, who took action to help other people and realize her dreams…She sat up and faced Lorenzo, her legs tucked under her. Leaning into him, she brushed her lips on his. He didn’t touch her, but responded as she increased the pressure of her kiss. When she licked his lips and nipped his lower lip, he moaned and opened his mouth to her. Their tongues circled and played until the heat of their kiss coursed through her, settling in her lower belly. She straddled him, never breaking their embrace. He eased his hands onto her waist.
This man was everything—the air she breathed, the water she drank, the food she ate, the sun that warmed her. She cupped his cheeks, smooth and strong, in her hands. They drew each other closer. Their kisses sent her over the edge of a cliff, freefalling into Lorenzo’s arms. Her mind, still blurred from the drop, lagged behind her body, present and rapt in him.
He teased her nipples through her bra and she moaned. She pushed her hands down his chest, past his belt, finding him. She smiled through their kisses at his growing need. Rubbing him, she moved her other hand toward his waist, ready to undo his belt.
He grasped her arms and distanced them. She blinked and froze. He looked away, lay back, and pulled her to him, her head on his chest. He exhaled and stroked her hair. What just happened? She smoothed her brow and tugged at her sweater. She was ready for more. Her hands itched to feel him. She swallowed. He wanted her, maybe even more than she wanted him.
“How far do you want to go?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I want to try...” Her cheeks flamed. She better get over her embarrassment about talking about sex.
He caressed her lower back. “Would it help if I told you what to do?”
She bit her lip. Lorenzo telling her what he wanted was another favorite fantasy. “Yes.” She sat up.
“Good, kitten.” His wicked smile made her quiver.
“Meee-ow.”
Lorenzo tickled her sides. Lita squirmed on him, stifling her laughter.
“How can we make kitty purr?” Lorenzo smiled his wicked grin.
She already purred. Her fantasy flashed through her mind. She grabbed Lorenzo’s hands, her face still hot. He stood with her. She sped to the door, pulling the two sides of the pocket door shut. Lorenzo watched her. She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. Grasping his hand, she pulled at him. She motioned him to sit in the oversized chair. Oh, she didn’t know what she was doing. She twisted her hands together.
“Come here.” Lorenzo motioned with his hand.
She licked her lips with a quick flick of her tongue. Lorenzo’s eyes drew her to him, as much as his commanding tone. He reached around, his hand behind her neck, bringing her to him in an intense kiss. Exhaling, she knelt between his knees.
“You like it when I tell you what to do, kitten?”
She nodded, her tingling body focused on him, every twitch in his thigh, each flick of his eyes over her. Somehow giving him control settled her, made her feel in charge, rather than fearful and out of control.
“If you want to stop, say pink, or squeeze my pinky.”
She nodded again, afraid if she opened her mouth, she’d drool like a crazy fool. Lorenzo guided her hands to his belt. She slid the buckle apart. She undid the button and zipper. Rubbing, she felt his hard length. He exhaled and leaned back into the chair. She smiled. He tangled his fingers in her hair, tugging her head closer. Her eyelids flickered. With his other hand, he freed himself from his boxers. A tiny mew gurgled from her throat. She licked his hardness with fast passes up and down his long length. With a hungry sound, she pulled him into her mouth. He tugged gently on her hair, stilling her.
“Slowly, kitten.”
She exhaled, smiling when he jerked as her hot breath blew on him.
Her focus intensified, along with the wetness in her panties. She eased him in and out of her mouth, circling her tongue along the tip, squirming as he grew larger. She smiled. With her hand, she enclosed the base of his shaft. He felt and tasted better than she’d ever imagined—and she’d spent a lot of time thinking about him. She looked up at him while she sucked. His eyes were half-closed, a faint smile relaxed his handsome features. She sucked harder, needed to feel what he was like, to taste him, give him pleasure.
His fingers tightened their hold in her hair then eased. “Good girl.”
He twitched slightly in her hand. She stroked him in time with the movements of her mouth and tongue. His hands gripped her shoulders, his breathing rapid. When he pushed into her, his warm come flowing down her throat, she almost choked. Forcing herself to relax and swallow, she moaned. With renewed purpose, she sucked until he was spent and she’d taken every drop she could. She leaned her cheek into his thigh and smiled, a goofy grin.
“On my lap,” Lorenzo said.
Steadying herself on the chair, she stood and slid onto his legs. She lay her head on his shoulder and fingered his sweater. Lorenzo kissed her forehead. Caressing his fingers up her legs, he made her wriggle again. He pressed down on her thighs.
“Still, kitten.”
She breathed out a satisfied breath and kissed his earlobe.
“Hum,” Lorenzo said, a smile evident in his tone. His fingers continued stroking her thighs until she parted her legs to let him find her. He rubbed on her panties. Her face and neck burned and she buried her head into his shoulder. He eased his fingers under her panties, finding her special spot. Leaning her head back, she moaned in his ear. He rubbed, circled, and stroked until she clasped her hands behind his neck and panted, needing release.
A low, whispered scream surprised her. So did the intensity of her contractions as she came. Lorenzo explored her, sliding his finger inside her. She pressed her thighs together, trying to feel him deeper.
“Ohhh,” she gasped. Her whole body shuddered and then relaxed. He eased his fingers out and rested them on her. She snuggled into him, his warmth surrounding her.
Tears wet her c
heeks, pooling on Lorenzo’s sweater.
He eased his hands up, patted her skirt in place, and caressed her cheeks.
“Are you all right?”
She sniffled. “Yes. I’m just…happy.” More like flooded with relief. She’d trusted him with her body, something she’d never done with another man. Worry about it, about this moment, had constricted her. But it had been wonderful, Lorenzo was wonderful, their love freed and buoyed her. He encircled her in his arms. Gently, he kissed away her tears and brushed his lips across hers.
“Me too,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
He didn’t sound happy...but he was pleased, maybe awestruck, like she was. She pressed herself close to him, listening to his now-steady breathing. The fire gave off a cinnamon-y hot scent. She felt for her new necklace. Lorenzo only said what he meant. He was happy.
“Lita,” Lorenzo said, his voice firm and serious.
“Mmm?”
“Are you on the pill?”
She shifted. “Yes.” Her doctor had recommended it to regulate her periods. Sometimes she forgot to take the pills. But, it wasn’t a big deal—she just doubled up sometimes, occasionally missed a pill. It still seemed to be working, though she couldn’t tell for the birth control part.
“Good.”
“Why? Don’t you want children?” Lita absolutely wanted to be a mom. A weight had been shoved onto her chest.
“Like you said, we’ve never dated. I don’t want to share you yet.”
He hadn’t really answered. “Someday?”
“Yeah. Uncle Enzo and Celeste asked if we want to live here. Do you?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind.” She rubbed her collarbone. Her new necklace tangled against her finger. She patted it back into place. His “yeah” didn’t sound happy.
“We’ll need to update the master suite. I’ll talk to Lee—he and Vincente can get it done while we’re on our honeymoon.”
“Honeymoon?” She’d assumed that would have to wait, since everything was happening so fast.
“We’re going to Italy, to the family villa.”
Lita scooted up. “Seriously?”
Believe (San Francisco Brides Series Book 2) Page 9