HER FINAL FLING Page 13

  He had liked it, damn it. He just hadn't been ready for the job at the time.

  And now?

  Now he was the second-ranked Formula One driver in the world. An accomplishment he took great pride in. Even if it had slowly overtaken some areas of his life he used to enjoy.

  "I did," he admitted, but by now Nico was making a beeline for the bar and the pink box everyone seemed to be gathering around.

  What now?

  Spying Christine sandwiched between the stripper tutor, and his new sister-in-law, Esmerelda Giles, Vito tried to catch her eye to see if she'd be interested in blowing off the rest of the party.

  Too bad her eyes were glued on the damn box along with everyone else's.

  "What gives?" He hustled to keep up with Nico weaving through the crowd.

  "I opened one of Giselle's pink pastry boxes before and got the surprise of my life," Nico shot back darkly, his brow furrowed as he glared at Giselle climbing onto the bar to address the group.

  Curious, Vito stuck around long enough to hear what his sister had to say even though he had every intention of making off with Christine at the first possible opportunity. Already his feet sidled in her direction since he was determined to stop thinking about sex and start acting on the impulse.

  "And now for my favorite party game," Giselle was saying between the kisses she blew at her fiancé, Hugh. She lifted up the box and opened it with a flourish. "I've made a batch of my famous Kama Sutra cookies and I invite you all to indulge."

  There were squeals of surprise and a general rush of excitement through the guests as they got a look at whatever the hell Kama Sutra cookies might be. Vito noticed Nico and Renzo both clapping hands over their eyes.

  Not a good sign.

  He had almost reached Christine's side, however, and right now he was more concerned about getting his hands on her in that incredible dress she wore than worrying about whatever mayhem his sister had in mind.

  All around him, guests were scrambling for the cookies. Including Christine.

  Vito took advantage of all the people in motion, easily sliding alongside the stripper to insinuate himself into position next to Christine. His thigh brushed hers as he maneuvered closer, the contact delectable but all too brief.

  "Hi." She smiled at him, her lips slick with shiny pink lip gloss that begged to be licked off.

  He would have propositioned her then and there if Giselle hadn't whistled for attention again.

  "Now that everyone has a cookie, you all need to find a partner and form boy-girl teams," his sister continued, a wicked smile on her face as she winked at Hugh. "The object of the game is to see who can copy their Kama Sutra position most effectively without taking off their clothes. Ready? Go!"

  Vito hoped to hell the game wasn't as racy as it sounded. Since when was his little sister familiar with the damn Kama Sutra?

  And aside from that unsettling thought, Vito didn't stand a chance of recreating any sexy position with Christine without ripping his clothes off in all due haste. He was toast for this game.

  "Well, partner?" Christine peered around the room slowly, as if to be sure they were paired up together for the game. Sure enough, everyone else from Aunt Rosella to the exotic dancer had already claimed their partner. "Are you ready to play?"

  A challenge twinkled in her blue eyes, her chin tilted high as she stared up at him. He knew if he lowered his gaze he'd find the soft enticement of her half-covered breasts squeezed into a stretchy knit dress with wide-set spaghetti straps. Of course, he didn't dare look down or he'd follow his gaze with his lips and kiss every square inch of the creamy skin her outfit exposed.

  "Not in public." He couldn't afford to so much as lay a finger on her after so many days away from her. "I need to see you alone."

  She shook her head slowly as she looked down at her cookie, her regret obvious in her voice. "It's too bad you don't want to play, Vito. We sure had a humdinger of a position to act out."

  Handing him the sweet, Christine turned on one towering high heel and walked away. Leaving him with only a sugary treat for comfort.

  Looking down at the airy confection in his palm, Vito distinguished the words "Queen of Heaven" written in tiny frosting letters. But the workmanship in the words was nothing compared to the artistic rendition of a naked couple entwined in the most intimate of positions. While a woman lay on her side, her long red hair spread on the bed behind her, a man straddled her bottom leg and clenched her upper leg in his hands. He entered her from this sideways position, cradling her thigh to his chest while he…

  Holy hell.

  Vito ignored the molten lava suddenly running through his veins at the heady appeal of the image. Because suddenly, all he could think about was the fact that Christine had implied she wanted to do this with him.

  Now.

  Taking his cookie with him, Vito couldn't sprint out of the party fast enough.

  * * *

  12

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  Her pulse thrummed as footsteps sounded behind her.

  Christine clicked her way down the coral-colored marble corridor inside Club Paradise, the music of the Moulin Rouge lounge fading as she moved deeper into the hotel. Were those Vito's footsteps, or someone else's?

  A few guests of the resort walked by her, a man dressed in a sleek suit with clinging, half-clad women on either side of him. An intriguing arrangement, but not to her personal taste. When it came to Vito Cesare, she had no interest in sharing.

  The footsteps behind her sounded closer, sending a shiver over her skin. A delicious sixth sense made her body hum with anticipated pleasure and told her exactly who approached.

  "Wait." Strong arms slid around her from behind, halting her in her tracks underneath a mammoth chandelier.

  She caught his scent and closed her eyes as he pressed her back against him.

  "I thought you didn't want to play." Her head fell back to rest on his shoulder for just a moment, exposing her neck in case he happened to lean closer. To kiss her.

  She hadn't realized how much suppressed desire had been building inside her the past few days, but now that she had Vito's hands on her again, she all but combusted in the middle of the elegant Club Paradise corridor.

  "I said not in public." He leaned over her to touch the wall in front of her.

  To press an elevator button, she realized as she pried her eyes open.

  "Does that mean you'd be willing to seek out a more private arrangement?" She turned in his arms, visions of the Kama Sutra cookie still dancing in her head.

  The elevator door slid open and he tugged her inside, the heat of his hand enveloping hers.

  "That means you don't have a prayer of spending another second at my sister's bachelorette party." He stabbed the button for the second floor with one finger while the doors swished closed. "So I hope you didn't have any plans for more lingerie purchasing or striptease lessons tonight."

  One hand still braced on the elevator wall, he stared down at her with hazel eyes turned so brown almost all traces of green had fled. He didn't touch her anywhere, yet she could already anticipate his hands on her everywhere, her whole body vibrating with sensual hunger.

  "Maybe it's time to put the striptease lessons into practice." She'd never ventured into those kinds of bedroom adventures with other guys, but something about Vito made her feel very uninhibited. Daring.

  The elevator arrived on the second floor, the car settling to a stop before the doors rolled open again. As she stepped out into the plush Persian carpet of the hallway, it occurred to her she had no clue where they were headed. His room, maybe?

  Sure enough, he already had a keycard in hand as he guided her to the right down the hallway.

  "As much as I would love to see that any other time, tonight I don't think I can wait another second." He paused in front of a door labeled Xanadu and inserted his key. "Do you know how many days it's been since I've had you all to myself?"

  Too many.

  Still,
her heart rate did a little skip-jump at the thought of him wanting her all this time. Her thighs quivered at the implication that he wasn't going to wait anymore.

  Her throat went dry, her scattered thoughts too jumbled and sex-starved to figure out how long it had been since they'd been able to get naughty in Vito's bed. Or in the shower. Or on the dining room table.

  Following him inside, she blinked at the quick flash of bright lights before he turned down the dimmer switch.

  "This is Xanadu?" Her gaze ran around the walls painted creamy white with hints of gold showing through. Lights suspended from gilt chains hung around the room, their amber glass globes reflecting the gold and making the whole room shimmer. Eastern-inspired furnishings in bright jewel-tone fabrics crowded around a fireplace that had leapt to life as soon as Vito switched on the lights.

  "I think it's based on the Coleridge poem, something about 'In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree…'" He gestured toward a closed door off to one side of the living area. "Or at least that's what I guessed after I saw the poem framed above the bed."

  Bed.

  The word had never sounded so erotic as it did coming from Vito's lips.

  Her mind had already sprinted into the bedroom, envisioning all the things they could do to one another—for one another—before the night was through. Or at least before she went back to her room. Because no matter how much her body craved Vito's tonight, she couldn't tease her heart by waking up with him tomorrow morning.

  Whatever connection they had formed over the course of the summer, it would end after Giselle's wedding. Six days and counting.

  Which meant they'd better make every moment count tonight.

  * * *

  What was she thinking?

  Vito never thought he'd see the day where he'd be standing in the middle of an exotic hotel room with a woman who oozed sensuality the way Christine did and end up agonizing over what she was thinking, yet he found himself doing just that. She'd been too quiet since they'd entered the room, making him wonder if she had second thoughts.

  He placed the Kama Sutra cookie he'd carried up from the bachelor party on a decorative end table.

  "What's on your mind, Christine?" He reached for her hand, savoring the soft slide of her cool fingers over his skin. She'd painted her nails today—pale, shimmering pink. No rings adorned her fingers, no rocks or decorations for an all-natural beauty. Her sunny smile and lightly tanned skin would make the perfectly made-up and surgically enhanced groupies at the Grand Prix look as though they were trying way too hard.

  Her gaze tracked to the cookie he'd set aside.

  "Just wondering if you're so confident in your bedroom abilities that you don't even need to look at a diagram." The teasing note in her voice reassured him she wasn't having doubts. Or if she had been worried about anything before, she wasn't anymore.

  "It's not that I'm overconfident." He slid her tiny silver purse from her fingers and laid it on the arm of a chair. Pulling her deeper into the room, he admired the way the golden light from the hanging fixtures highlighted the myriad shades of brown in her hair. "It's just that I happen to have a certain level of familiarity with the Kama Sutra."

  Pausing when they reached the bare expanse of floor in front of the fireplace, he lifted a hand to the shoulder strap of her blue dress and traced the strap over her shoulder to the end of her collarbone and down to the soft skin above her breast. Backtracking his trail, he skimmed back up the skin underneath the strap, and then eased his way down again until he flicked the strap off her shoulder altogether.

  A delicate shiver swayed her whole body.

  "You wicked, wicked man." Her breathless tone didn't convey the same censure as her words. If anything, she made wickedness sound like high praise. "Is that because you read Eastern sex texts just for fun? Or have you been learning your material firsthand from your scads of women strewn across the globe?"

  Leaning closer to the shoulder he'd bared, Vito licked a line where the strap had been and then gently blew on the places his tongue had touched. His reward was another shiver and Christine's eyes falling to half mast.

  "Forget I asked," she murmured, her hands reaching to tangle in his hair. "However you learned your skills, Cesare, you've got a good game."

  "It's mostly book knowledge." He answered her question anyway, nudging her other strap off her shoulder. "Some guys watch low-budget porno in between girlfriends to keep them entertained. I read."

  "Are you telling me I'm having my first fling with a sex scholar?" She opened her eyes to peer at him through her long lashes. "You're going to be a very tough act to follow."

  He didn't want to think about anyone following him. Couldn't stand the idea of anyone else ever touching her this way.

  "Maybe I want to make myself irreplaceable." Fingers roving down the back of her knit dress found the zipper and inched the tab down. "Unforgettable." Without the straps to keep it in place, her dress drifted downward along with the zipper, revealing hints of sexy black satin and creamy skin. "Or maybe I feel the need to erase all memory of your fiancé from your mind."

  She smiled as the stretchy blue fabric landed around her ankles, leaving her clad in an outfit that looked as though it could have been borrowed from the stripper downstairs. Stepping from the pile of dark material, she landed right in his arms.

  "That would be a very good thing." Her fingers walked up his tie to loosen the knot and slide it off his neck. "Do you have any fancy Eastern love tricks in mind to make me forget anyone else I've ever been with?"

  He stared at the black satin bustier with lace insets and a bright blue ribbon tying it together. The matching black bikini bottoms echoed the theme with a blue bow situated just below her navel.

  "It's going to take a hell of a trick to make tonight as memorable for you as this outfit has been for me." He couldn't remember ever seeing anything so damn appealing. The only things missing were the leather work boots that made him crazy for her. "You look incredible."

  She toyed with the ends of the ribbon between her breasts. "Giselle said no one could leave her party without appropriate bachelorette garb."

  He slid the silky ribbon out of her fingers to savor it with his own. "Then I guess I owe the bride a big thank you."

  Then again, Christine could have showed up tonight in jeans and a T-shirt and he would have salivated himself dry.

  "What about you, Cesare? Do you have any surprises for me underneath your clothes?" Her hands moved over his buttons, unfastening them in a swift, easy rhythm.

  "What I have for you shouldn't come as any surprise." He seized her shoulders as she tugged his shirt from his pants.

  "That doesn't make it any less welcome." She splayed her hand across the front of his trousers. Drew one finger up the hard length of him.

  He reached for his belt buckle while his eyes crossed. Unfastening the leather, he slid her hand away while he shed his pants and tossed them over a couch near the fireplace.

  "I'm going to need that damn cookie diagram after all if you keep that up. I can't even remember my own name when you touch me like that."

  "Looks like I have a few tricks of my own, doesn't it?" She stalked closer with her toned legs and killer lingerie, backing him against a coffee table pulled close to the fireplace.

  "You're definitely well-armed." And he loved watching her put all those sexy attributes to use after the long weeks she'd kept them hidden under her work clothes.

  "But I don't think we need to use the diagram."

  "We don't?"

  "I've got our position memorized." Smiling, she reached behind him and plucked a dark quilt from the couch. With a snap of her wrist she spread the blanket on the floor behind them, right in front of the decorative fireplace that contributed minimal heat to the room. "Come with me and I'll show you."

  He followed her down to the floor, cradling her head in his hand until she settled herself on the blanket. His body stretched on top of hers, he couldn't believe h
ow long it had been since he'd touched her this way.

  How the hell could he ever go that long without touching her again?

  Shutting down thoughts that only frustrated him, he concentrated on the here and now. Her.

  Because right now, he couldn't think of anything that mattered more to him.

  "Vito?"

  Christine started to panic when she saw that look in his eyes again. More than a "do-me baby" glance, Vito's dark gaze hinted at deeper emotions. The kind that thrilled and terrified her. The kind that threatened to break her heart all over again if she wasn't careful.

  "Yeah?" His hands surveyed her whole body, testing every curve and hollow while he watched her with dark eyes.

  She couldn't allow herself to get drawn in by those gorgeous eyes of his. Didn't dare to let her romantic heart go aflutter just because he was willing to take all the time in the world to make her feel better than she'd ever felt before.

  Concentrate on the heat. The chemistry. The way Vito's body felt stretched out over hers.

  She tugged at the layer of lace that covered her, the only remaining barrier between them. "Will you help me out of this?"

  Levering himself up on his hands, he inched downward until his mouth was level with her breasts. Poised above her in a shallow push-up, he bent his teeth to her ribbon and gave it a tug.

  "I'll take that as a yes." She sighed with pleasure as his warm breath fanned gently over the tops of her breasts. Her fingers moved to his biceps flexed so enticingly above her. She smoothed her way over the hard ridges of muscle, admiring the sleek definition of each one as the firelight played over his bronze skin.

  But then Vito was pulling the rest of her bustier ribbon loose, and her thoughts scattered like seeds in the wind. His tongue flicked down the valley between her breasts before claiming one aching nipple.

  She arched up against him, urging him closer while the rest of her black lace bustier slid away. Her thighs twitched beneath him, ready for more. If she could only focus on the next orgasm, on having him deep inside of her, then maybe she'd forget about all his soft touches and gentle caresses, the way he cared how she felt instead of thinking about what he wanted.