An Italian on the run from the Mafia. A reporter seeking the truth. Will they reveal their feelings before danger strikes?
*****
Reclusive writer Luca Ross...
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I climbed into Luca's lap and embraced him.
"Sky, this is dangerous." The water in the tub softly splashed around us, then calmed.
I pulled back to look at him, and saw near-agony on his face. "Why?"
"You're sitting right near my..." He shifted. "I want to be inside you."
He sounded desperate, and that made my smile grow. Was I evil for smiling? I didn't care.
"That's what I want too." I leaned forward to kiss him, and for the first time, I was the one to slip my tongue to his instead of the other way around.
"Are you sure? Even after what I told you? About leaving."
I rested my hands on his chest and nodded. "This is my choice. I choose you, and us. I know it might be just for tonight, that this is all we'll ever have, but I'm okay with that."
His hands went to my face, gently cupping my jaw. I shifted back and forth, feeling his hardness against my pubic bone. A groan escaped his lips. We were so close, there in the water.
"Sky, we need a condom."
"I know. I'm on the pill too."
He touched my face as though I were a fragile, ethereal creature. I leaned in, and we kissed, our lips dragging against one another's, scorching and slow.
Then we paused, foreheads touching, chests heaving, breath blending. The silence in the room, heavy in the air around us, spoke volumes.
I should have been afraid because the Mafia wanted him. Should have been upset he'd withheld the truth from me so long. Should have gotten up, left, and walked out of his life.
But I didn't. I couldn't.
Now, I not only wanted him, but admired him. What he was, all he represented, turned me on. His situation was dangerous. I was stupid for that, I suspected, but other women wanted cops and firemen and soldiers. I wanted Luca.
The room was darker now. The moon had passed beyond the skylight, but the air seemed clearer and I was more hyper-attuned to everything. I shifted in his lap.
"Sky, I don't know how much longer I can last like this. Let's continue in bed, please?" he rasped against my mouth.
I whispered a yes and slid off him.
When we stepped out of the tub, he grabbed a towel and dried my body with long, soft strokes as he stood dripping wet. We made our way to the bed, and he turned on the light. Instead of feeling exposed or self-conscious, the idea that he could see me as I truly was, naked and needy, was exciting.
"You said you wanted me to take charge of us, so I will. Totally. I want you on top of me."
He undid the messy, makeshift bun at my nape. I shook my hair free and added, "I don't want you to hold back. I don't want you to be tender. I want you to be primal."
