“Anyone in mind?” I use my weight to press her ass into the counter.
“Perhaps, in the future.” Her skin visibly scatters with goosebumps. “I like gorgeous men who are willing to make me dinner.” She runs a nail along the dip at my collarbone. “Although, it all depends on how good your pizza tastes, Danny,” she says with a timid smile.
My skin tingles from my scalp to my balls. The intense reaction feels too good to be true. She doesn’t need a fucked up guy like me. A broken soul with a devastating history.
I can’t mess this up. I won’t. She deserves to be cherished. “I’m honored, if that’s what you really want?”
“To be honest, I’d rather just get it over with. I’m a twenty-one-year-old virgin.” She rolls her eyes and swipes a lock of hair away from her face.
“Wow! You’re using me for sex?” I chuckle playfully. “That’s harsh.”
Her brows snap up. “No!”
I bend down and cover her parted lips with a quick passionate kiss, muting her protest. “There’s no rush, Viv.” I wink. “When the time is right, let me know—okay?” My arms wrap around her shoulders. She sighs into me, heating the spot where her face rests. Instantly, my mind rushes towards sex mode. “I’ll grab a shirt.”
Danny disappears into his bedroom. I blow out hot air and slump against the pantry door. My heart rate is out of control, and any ounce of rational thought has gone poof. We were so close. Crazy hot and heavy close. Up close and personal close. Considering sex close. Really close.Close.
Douse me in water and brand me a hussy because I was actually trying very hard not to gyrate against his hips. Is that normal behavior? Whatever was in that glass of water has switched my usual modesty and replaced it with lustful strumpet tendencies.
While his macho torso pressed into my chest, the world of Vivian Swann altered. I suddenly realized what all the fuss was about. Why songwriters vocalize heartache, why author's craft perfect love stories and why poets describe compelling romance throughout history. I crave that experience too.
A single touch awoke the sauciness inside of me.
A single glance teased me with bubbling excitement.
A single kiss unarmed my innate distrust.
A single man offered me fulfillment in this mundane life.
Will the time ever be right to lose my virginity?I’m the typical starry eyed romantic who is all too aware my first time won’t be overlooking the Eiffel Tower with magical fairy lights, champagne and fluffy love hearts. I’ve lived life by Nonna’s rules for long enough. Now, I choose to blaze my own trail and find out what she was so terrified I’d bump into.
That clean soapy peppermint scent of man is out of this world. A while back I declared rose petals to be the most heavenly scent on earth, but now I truly believe it’s Danny.
I can’t blame him for this buzz. It's not his fault I’ve got wild female flutters, or that my lady parts are swollen because I’m dreaming up filthy scenarios. I’ve always thought a man’s German sausage was an ugly, gross extra bit used purely for procreation, yet for some bizarre reason, I’m craving a peek at his. I can’t fathom why I wish to stroke it, let alone capture it in a bun and taste it. It’s not a pet or a feast.
That thing of his is an injection of baby making proportions, and this girl is unprepared for that scenario. I’m boiling over from cheeks to toes. Tingling and giddy.How can a man have so much power over me?
Quickly gathering my out-of-control inner ramblings, I reposition my blouse. This is crazy. Nonna’s stern, distant warning reminds me of lust and its trappings. Especially, for an older man who I’ve only met.
I take the alone time to cool off and investigate. The apartment walls appear freshly painted with furniture that still holds the scent of newness. There aren’t any photographs or personal knick-knacks to give the impression he belongs here. It’s more like a hotel suite catering for guests who drift in and out. A bookshelf houses a library of medical manuals, kept in place with skull bookends, but the rest of the space severely lacks personality.
His mobile phone glows on the coffee table. I peer down at the caller's ID. Unknown number. In a flash, Danny appears before me like he ran from the bedroom. He swipes the phone and glares at the screen. A halo of fire circles his pupils as his mouth tightens to a grimace.
“Goddammit,” he growls under his breath.
“Are you going to answer that?” I ask.
His forehead creases. “No.”
“Go ahead. I don’t mind.” I angle away and wander into the kitchen to give him space. When I glance over my shoulder, his sullen gaze is far away, and he shoves the phone in his pocket.
“It’s not important.” He drags a hand through his hair.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Danny mutters, feigning a wide smile. “It’s nothing. Forget about it.”
It’s obviously not nothing—it's something. There’s a hint of the unknown shadowing his golden glare. Rigid body language tells me he’s keeping a secret. “I’ll leave. Then you can call back whoever that was in private.”
