Sitting up, I shrugged off my blouse and slid my skirt down my legs, leaving me in just my bra and panties, the cool air conditioning causing goosebumps to break out over my skin. Stroking the tops of my breasts and thighs with my fingers, I smiled, lying back again.
Bringing my right hand closer to the smooth fabric of my panties, I shivered as my fingers rubbed in small circles, finding the edges of my mound and sending little ripples of warm tension up and down my legs. Oh, it had been so long. With getting ready for my trip to America and being caught up in my work, even playing with a man had become too much time, and today with Tomasso was really my first chance to have some down time in weeks. Teasing the outer edges of my lips, I sighed softly, seeing Tomasso in my mind's eye. His muscles rippled as his fingers rubbed, and the smirk on his face was both cocky and tender at the same time. His lips were sensuous and powerful as he brought them to my breast, licking and sucking at my nipple until I was moaning, my eyes fluttering closed. "Mmm . . . so delicious."
"Please . . .” I whispered, running my fingers through his hair. "Don't hurt me."
"Never," he promised, his fingers slipping inside my panties to rest on the hot flesh of my pussy. His finger slipped between my lips, stroking up and down, gathering my moisture before rubbing, feather light, over my clit.
My hips surged, and I couldn't believe how amazing it felt. I wanted more, and I reached for him but couldn’t quite reach him.
I looked into his beautiful hazel eyes and gave my trust to this man, whose fingers and lips feasted on my flesh, stroking and touching until I was nearly sobbing in pleasure. I was begging, needing him to push me over the edge, and he took his lips from my nipple to look me in the eye. "This is mine."
He stroked his fingers up one more time, and I felt my orgasm crash over me, my thighs clenching around the fingers that were stroking me. "Yes, yours," I whispered, blinking as my fantasy slowly started to fade away, leaving me shaken.
What the hell was I thinking? Playing around with Tomasso? No way in hell. First, I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t the relationship type. That normally meant little to me—there was nothing wrong with mutual play, in my opinion, but I wasn't sure about myself. He was the sort of man that I wanted to have in my life. He was untouchable and something that I could never let myself indulge in. If I did, I'd too quickly give away my heart, and that was something I couldn't risk breaking again. Finally, since Travis, I was the one in charge again. Men fell to their knees to worship at my feet and pledged themselves to me, not the other way around. How could my fantasy have me so quickly pledging myself to him?
Sighing, I wiped at my eyes, feeling a strange tear trickling down my cheek. Pissed off at myself, I sat up and yanked off my soaked panties and bra, storming over to my suitcase and pulling out some fresh underwear. I looked at the casual clothes that I'd packed and pulled out a t-shirt, pulling it on before deciding against the pants I'd packed. Looking around, I saw the shorts that Tomasso had given me the day before. I felt a sense of warm comfort come with pulling them on, and I was startled when a knock came at my door.
"Yes?"
I opened the door and saw Margaret Bertoli standing in the hallway. "Luisa, I was wondering how you're doing. Tomasso left for his work, and I know it's not comfortable spending all your time in an unfamiliar house, let alone a closed off bedroom."
"Thank you, Se?ora Bertoli. I'm fine," I said, brushing my hair behind my ear and trying to regain my composure. "I was actually about to see what there was to eat around here.”
Margaret smiled and nodded. "That sounds good. Well, Carlo is out late for business, so how about the two of us have a relaxed dinner? Say . . . raid the fridge in t-shirts and shorts? I'm sure there’s a tub of ice cream in the freezer there if you’re interested."
I couldn't help it. The older woman's youthful enthusiasm and relaxed charm washed away the last of my doubts and worries. "That sounds perfect. Let me brush out my hair, and I'll join you."
Chapter 7
Tomasso
Four days later, the police were pissing me off. Twice, I'd had to stop my rounds as they always seemed to be in the area when I was going for a pickup. "This is getting to be bullshit," I complained to Pietro. "Fucking Fritz is more focused on trying to catch me on some piddly shit than on finding who was responsible for that explosion.”
"That's been turned over to the FBI," he said as we had coffee in a late night diner. "The Seattle police are stuck in neutral, with the federal agencies taking up all their spotlight, so they're left doing what they've always done—chase their own tails and try to get to us."