Ten minutes. I have ten minutes to get this under control.
And then, to his room. Just him and me.
To discuss his mother, Faye.
Yes, just a discussion, nothing more. Nothing more at all...
CHAPTER FOUR
SI, I INVITED her to my room.
Si, I’m asking for trouble.
Si, it’s hardly discreet, but I did it anyway.
And do I regret it?
Diavolo, no.
Never mind the elevated heart rate from pounding the trail for a good ninety minutes, just seeing her again has it falling over itself.
It seems that coming face to face with a blushing Faye in a top-to-toe dress, an insipid yellow of all colours, is just as powerful as seeing her naked. Or maybe it’s that I’ve seen her naked, that I know what the dress hides, that has me overheating again and losing all good sense.
Maybe if we’d actually gone through with something, gained some release, this would be under control now. I curse my noble streak, the one that had me confessing my relationship to Dani and putting an end to anything happening last night. I can’t forget how she looked while propositioning me, her voice all sultry and soft.
I’m kind of a lady in need—a damsel in distress, if you like—and you’re my perfect fantasy.
Screw fantasy, I want to make it a reality. And I will. Just as soon as she gets my mother off her chest.
We’d be perfect together in bed. I know because I’ve tasted her, felt her responsive body pressed against mine, felt it tremble with a need as powerful as my own. All from a kiss. A kiss that was far too short and far too teasing with it.
One solitary kiss.
I hit the shower, turn it to cold and grit my teeth as the icy shards pummel me. I need to moderate this. Get it under control. But it seems even the chill can’t dampen my desire. And it’s madness. She’s just another woman. A woman I should be able to shut out until time and circumstance permit. Instead, she’s haunting my every waking thought and, as I tug on my nagging erection with the intention to clean myself, I know how foolish I am, how hooked I am. And I blame it entirely on how we met.
Her body gliding through the water, naked, lithe, captivating. Watching her push up out of the pool, her hair a dark, sleek mass down her back, the water streaming down her front, her outthrust chest, and those nipples, taut and pleading. Cazzo. That’s at the heart of this. That vision. And it was no illusion; it was real.
I’m barely aware of my fist pumping faster, harder, my mind filled with her. I drag in a breath and plant both palms onto the wall, leaning into it as the water pounds the back of my head and my neck. There’s one solution that offers the greatest satisfaction for both of us, because I’m not imagining the way she looked at me outside, the way the colour flooded her cheeks, the way her eyes feasted over me. She still wants me.
She wants me like she did last night, before she learned who I was. And I want her. Want her so much that a hurried hand job isn’t going to cut it.
I push away from the wall and lather soap over my body while my mind focuses on my proposition. I can pitch in my sleep. I’ve just never pitched something of a sexual nature before. My grin lifts to one side. I’ve never met a woman for the first time when she was naked and look where that’s left me. Like this. Hard and dissatisfied.
I’m dressed and at the door with a minute to spare, my cock stiff and throbbing against the zip of my chinos. Idiota. I’m like a loaded gun. I adjust my crotch and unbutton my shirt another notch, not that it’s the cause of the tight feeling in my throat, or the dryness either. That’s all nerves and anticipation, both of which are alien to me and just as frustrating with it.
Diavolo, I don’t let people get under my skin; I don’t obsess over them. Work, si. Working out, si. But people...those outside of my family and close friends...no. Getting emotionally invested leads to dependency, an addiction you can’t live without, a bond that can break you...and the sooner I can get Faye out of my head, the better. And sex will do that. It’s worked in the past and it will now.
Ultimately, people are too self-serving, too mercurial to warrant any more.
Not that Dani and Tyler believe that. I’ve done that conversation to death over the last year, trying to convince them marriage isn’t necessary.
On the plus side, thinking about marriage has the desired effect in the trouser department, just in time for her rap on the door. I breathe over the kick in my pulse, the excited rush that floods my body, and I pull open the door.
‘Ciao.’ My smile lifts as quickly as the ripple of awareness straight to my groin. Have I mentioned I hate mustard? Mustard in any form, but the colour in particular; it’s so unappealing. But on her...that dress...
‘Are you going to let me in?’ She scans the hallway either side, her hands wringing in front of her as she bobs on her heels. She’s worried about being caught. And you should be too!
‘Sure.’ I step back, pulling the door further open and bow my head to her ear as she passes, allowing myself a second’s appreciation of her heavenly scent before I add, ‘Don’t worry, you’re here on official wedding business. Knowing my family, this will become quite the regular occurrence this week.’