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The Italian Obsession

Page 16

by T.L. Swan

He stares at me for a beat. “On your back on the sand it is.” That statement sounded so sexual that it’s just ridiculous.

We find a spot, and he lays out the two towels before he lies down on one. I sit beside him. He closes his eyes and puts his face up to the sun. “Sol has been good to us.”

I slide down beside him. “Who?”

“Sol, the god of the sun.”

I smile dreamily as I close my eyes. “How do you know so much about your country’s history? You’ve rattled off everything today like a professional tour guide.”

“It interests me.”

“Thank you for today. It’s been amazing. I appreciate you taking the time to show me around.”

“The day is not over yet, bella,” he murmurs with his eyes closed.

I stare at him for a moment. Why hasn’t he touched me? “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, why?”

“You haven’t touched me today,” I whisper.

His eyes come over to me, and he rolls on his side to face me. “Why do you think I’m lying here with my eyes closed?” He picks up my hand and kisses my fingertips. “I haven’t touched you today because I know that if I did, I may not be able to stop. My attraction to you, Olivia, is stronger than I am.”

I smile softly.

“I dragged myself from your side last night, and then when I got home…” His eyes darken and drop to my lips. “I jerked off for two hours trying to get my cock to go down. He wanted you so fucking bad.”

My brows rise. “How did that go?” I whisper.

“My hand definitely wasn’t you, and my cock definitely isn’t satisfied.”

“Jesus, Rico,” I whisper. “Don’t mince your words, will you?”

“Why would I?”

I stare at him as the air swirls between us. I want him. I want every hard inch of this gorgeous man. To hell with being a good girl. I’ve never had a one-night stand, and damn it, I deserve one. This can be a hall pass from my annoying conscience. I know I’m never going to see him again, and that’s okay. I want him, and screw this, I’m having him. He can always be that beautiful man I met in Italy—the one from another world.

I grab my sunscreen and hand Rico the bottle. “Can you put sunscreen on me, please?” I ask.

He licks his lips. “You’re playing with fire.” Our eyes are locked.

“When in Rome, right?” I raise my brow, and then I roll onto my stomach as excitement begins to tear through my system. I’m really doing this. I can almost hear my lady parts all cheering in a mosh pit somewhere from deep inside. After a beat, I hear the sunscreen bottle being squeezed, and I close my eyes. It’s an oil-based sunscreen. My heart is beating so hard. I hear his hands rub together, and then I feel him straddle my behind. The weight of his body on top of mine pushes me into the sand and wakes up a demon inside of me. He’s heavy, broad, and… oh, fuck…

He unfastens my bikini top, and I scrunch my eyes shut against the towel. Shit!

His hands slide up my back in a strong, slow motion, and my sex clenches with appreciation. His fingers drift up and over my shoulders, and then down my sides, skimming the sides of my breasts. Goose bumps scatter across my skin.

I can’t breathe.

He nudges forward and I feel his erection up against my behind. My heart free-falls from my chest. Oh, fuck yeah. God, he feels good.

Calm down, calm down, calm down, I repeat over and over in my head.

I can’t calm the fuck down, though, because a god has his hands on me and I’m about to have an oily orgasm in public.