He grabs my hand and leads me to the door.
I pull back, just a little, and raise our joined hands in the air. “What about this?” I ask. “I don’t know if the children are ready to see us . . . well, together. Even though Alfonso did ask me if I was in love with you.”
This gets his attention. “Oh?” he says, his eyes wide. “And what did you say?”
“I told him I thought you were gross. Ew, boys, yucky.”
“Ah yes,” he says, seeming satisfied with that. “And probably true. Allora, let us take this slowly then.”
“I don’t think we can take it much slower given what we just did on your desk. By the way, I think you might have to wipe that down.”
He lets out a small laugh that lights up his whole face. He looks positively angelic. “Yes, yes.” He pulls me into him and kisses me, then lets go of my hand. “We will take it slowly in front of them. How about that?”
“And take it fast in private?” I ask with a bat of my eyelashes.
“And hard and long and rough.” He punctuates this by biting my neck and letting out a low, primal groan. “Bella, bella, bella.”
I ignore the heat flaring between my legs again, obviously ready for another round. This situation might be harder to juggle than I thought.
Still, sex with Derio has got to be worth any complication.
At least, as we walk out into the hall, back to the way we were before, that’s what I have to tell myself.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Even though I had the best intentions when I told the twins that I—well, we—would take them to the beach, I regretted it the moment we stepped foot on the hot, smooth pebbles.
Yes, walking from the villa all the way to the funicular and then waiting in line with throngs of tourists and then nearly getting hit by errant taxi cabs at Marina Grande and then trying to find a spot on a beach packed with bodies was annoying, albeit totally expected. But what I didn’t see coming was how hard it was to keep my hands off of Derio now, especially when he stripped down to that goddamn Speedo again.
It wasn’t just my eyes that were constantly roving all over his body but the eyes of all the women on the beach. I felt proud, not threatened, that he had fucked me earlier on his desk and fucked me good, but it really didn’t help that I just wanted to run my hands all over his tight body. He was more naked now than he had been in the office.
“You are good?” he asks me as he settles on his towel. We’re both lying on our sides, facing each other. The twins gathered a few water toys and are splashing in the clear shallows near a bunch of other kids. I hope that maybe they’ll hit it off and play together.
“I’m good,” I tell him. “I can’t stop staring at you, though.”
He gives me a cocky grin and looks down at his body. He places his hand on his bulge and momentarily rubs it. I immediately get a lady boner from the sight, wishing I were the one rubbing him.
“That’s not fair,” I whisper.
He does it again and closes his eyes briefly, his lips parted. Holy fucking shit, can he not touch himself in public? I’m going to fucking die.
I look around me. So far no one is paying attention, as most people are succumbing to the heat and lying on the ground like limp noodles.
But Derio, of course, is the opposite of limp. He now has a full-blown hard-on inside that Speedo and it’s barely being contained.
“My God, what did I awaken in you?” I say, leaning in closer to him and almost shielding his body in case someone walks by close to us.
“What did I awaken in you?” he asks and reaches over, slipping his fingers down the front of my bikini until they sink between my cleft. “You seem ready to go.” He edges closer to me, his finger sinking in deeper. “Bravissima,” he says through a ragged breath.
With the sun searing my shoulders and my body drowsy with heat, his fingers feel impossibly good. I want nothing more than to close my eyes and give in to him. But at any moment, if anyone at all walked past us, they would see something entirely inappropriate. I know Italy is really relaxed and all—there are topless breasts on every beach—but I’m pretty sure public hand jobs are frowned upon.
“Relax,” he hisses softly. “No one is coming. Except you.”
I laugh then gasp as he comes even closer, his finger finding purchase deep inside. We’re close to each other now but he continues to stare at me, his head propped up on his hand while his other one goes to work.
“Keep looking at me,” he says as my head wants to flop backward. “Pretend nothing is going on.” He leans in closer, his gaze on my lips. “I wish my tongue were my fingers. I wish I could taste you from the inside.”