Italian Stallions (8 page)

“Does an ice queen respond like that?” He drew her closer to his chest. Warmth emanated from him. She just wanted to melt against him and let him make love to her until she couldn’t move. He pressed his lip against the shell of her ear. “Does a frigid woman’s skin warm like yours is now?” His fingers swept her collarbone. The warmth of his lips followed.

Gianna moaned against the pressure of his lips.

“Gianna, there is nothing cold about you. You’ll have to come up with a better excuse to keep me away.”

How about that she was embarrassed as hell by the fact that she was a twenty-seven-year-old virgin? Maybe she should hire a pro to pop her; then she could enter a sexual relationship with confidence.

“I’m a virgin.” There, she said it! Gabe’s body stiffened. She caught the look of pity in his eyes.

He tried to cover it up by smiling at her. She pushed away and exited on the other side of the booth. Humiliation encompassed her. God she felt foolish!

“Gianna—”

She put her hand up. “No! Don’t. I knew if I told you, you’d think I was a freak of nature. And, well, I guess I am. So, you are majorly off the hook. I’d like you to leave now.” He made to move toward her. “No!” she screamed. Hot tears stung her eyes. “Don’t you see?” She ran her hands over her clothes, then flung her hair over her shoulders. “I’m a fake. The girl you met last night? Pretend. I’m Gianna Cipriani, a twenty-seven-year-old virgin who has never been outside of the Bay Area. I go to church three times a week and live in flannel nightgowns. I’m not sexy. So don’t pretend that I am! Now please go!”

She turned and ran through the dining room into the kitchen, then up the back stairway to her apartment. She slammed the door shut and leaned against it, feeling like the biggest schmuck in the world. Oh, God, what did she just do? What
was
wrong with her? She wanted him! He wanted her. At least he seemed like he did; then she went and killed it.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Humiliation rode her hard. She’d never be able to face Gabe again. She could just see Tressie now, tsk-tsking her, shaking her head. Gianna pushed off the door and strode into her bedroom. Angrily she stopped as she caught her reflection in the full-length mirror near the bathroom.

Pulling back her long hair, she fastened it with a tie from her dresser and gave herself a long thorough contemplation. She supposed she
was
plain. Though her features were bold. But they weren’t, she thought as she looked closer, so plain after all. She had dark arched brows. Big hazel-brown eyes with long black lashes. High cheekbones and full lips. She licked them, then pressed two fingers to them. Gabe seemed to like them. Her hand dropped to her ample breasts. He liked those better. Was it true? Guys turned into stupid piles of mush when they saw boobs?

Gianna took a deep breath and stepped closer to her reflection. Was there something wrong with her, or was she just a coward at heart? She opened her hands and ran them up along her waist to her breasts. The full heaviness overflowed her hands. Her aroused nipples strained against the silk of her bra and the thin fabric of her shirt. Gianna closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Her fingers applied more pressure, and as a man would, she rubbed the turgid peaks between her thumb and forefinger. An erotic jolt of heat leapt from her nipples to her womb, and in its wake, slickness followed. One hand slid down her belly to the soft mound between her thighs. Warmth emanated. No, she was not frigid. Frigid women didn’t respond to stimuli. Frigid women didn’t get wet when a man touched her between the legs. And frigid women did not touch themselves like she did now and enjoy it.

Gianna moaned softly as her skin warmed to her own hand. Frigid women did not suck face in a titty bar with a complete stranger and almost rape him.

The vision of her in Gabe’s lap at the Kat’s Meow sprang into her mind’s eye. He felt so good. He was so warm, and so big, and he knew just where to touch.

Gianna caught her breath as sparks of desire pulsed from her clitoris to her womb. No, she was not frigid—far from it. She was a vibrant, feeling, breathing sexual human being. She lifted her skirt and pressed her hand to her damp panties. The imaginary feel of hot breath on her cheek and a strong hand on her thigh spurned her to slowly rub back and forth across her clitoris. Her body flinched at the erotic charge. The ragged breath was her own as was the cry of pleasure. As the tension surged through her body, Gianna’s eyes flashed open. She didn’t recognize the torrid beauty of the woman who stared back with deep dark eyes. Nor the shadowed man in the corner of her room.

She whirled around and a scream congealed in her throat.

“It’s me, Gianna,” Gabe said, stepping from the window where he’d obviously climbed up the fire escape.

Humiliation rode her hard again; this time it was more than she could bear. “How dare you!”

With the smooth arrogance of a big jungle cat, he sauntered toward her. Despite her shock, anger, and embarrassment, the hungry look in Gabe’s eyes focused on her riveted her to the spot. She could not have moved away had her life depended on it. Her knees weakened and her heart rate accelerated so quickly she thought for a minute she might have a heart attack.

“How long have you been here?” Oh, God had he…? Mortified, she knew the answer.

He stopped only inches from her. “Long enough to know you didn’t finish.”

Her breath came quick, fast and warm. She could feel it ricochet off the broad width of his chest. “I…” She was speechless. She knew she should tell him to leave. Or even call the cops. But she couldn’t.

“Gianna, don’t be ashamed. You were meant for passion.” He reached out and touched her waist. She didn’t stop him. “You need to relax and learn to enjoy your sensuality.” His fingers slipped through the belt loop at the waist of her skirt. Ever so gently, he pulled her an inch closer. “Show me again,” he whispered.

Gianna’s jaw dropped. But she could not deny the hot course of excitement that zipped through her at his words. “I…I, no.” Her skin was so hot; she had the irrepressible urge to rip her clothes free and allow the coolness of the air to bring down her temperature.

“Are you afraid?”

Muted, she shook her head no.

“Shy?”

She hesitated for a heartbeat and then nodded.

“Do you think your body is ugly?”

When she hesitated, she detected a change in his energy. “Who told you that, Gianna?”

“M-my father told me it was a curse.”

He chuckled low. “A curse for all fathers. But”—he traced a fingertip across a hard nipple—“a cure for every red-blooded man who lays eyes on you.” Gabe pulled her hard against his chest. His breath was warm against her cheek. Sliding his hands up from her waist to her rib cage, he turned her around to face the mirror. “Let me show you how beautiful you really are.”

In a dreamlike trance, Gianna allowed him to maneuver her in front of the mirror. His big body surrounded her. She didn’t resist. Indeed, she didn’t fight the overwhelming urge to lean back against his hard warmth.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” he whispered against her ear. Gianna stiffened in shock. Was he quoting Shakespeare? She caught his gaze in the mirror. His eyes burned dark and hot. Full of passion. And something else. Sincerity.

Mutely she nodded.

A strong finger touched the full poutiness of her bottom lip. “Thou art
more
lovely and more temperate.” He brushed a feather-soft kiss across the throbbing artery in her throat. “Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer’s lease hath all too short a date.”

The raw huskiness in his so eloquently spoken sonnet caused something deep to move inside of her. For the first time in her life, Gianna began to see herself as she truly was.

His hand reached out, and with the outside of his palm, he brushed down the curve of her cheek. “Look at this.” His fingers traced along the bow of her upper lip. “You have the most luscious lips I’ve ever seen.” Long thick fingers delved into the sleek softness of her hair. As his fingers combed through it, the tie slid off and to the floor. He spread the long strands gently, reverently across her shoulders. “And this?” She felt him inhale her scent. “So soft and smooth.” As his fingers treated, one traced the curve of her ear. His lips bent to it.

Gianna watched, mesmerized by his movements in the mirror. When his fingers traced along her arched brows, he whispered into her ear, “Perfect.” His lips nibbled her ear and then licked the inner shell.

He moved his other hand from her waist up to her rib cage. She didn’t realize he had undone the few bottom buttons of her shirt until his hand slid up the warmth of her flesh. She gasped and stood up straight. Deftly Gabe’s other hand came around to the front of her and nimbly undid the remaining buttons. His lips nuzzled against her neck. “Bella, Gianna, you have the most perfect breasts. A work of art.” He pulled back the shirt. As his hand swept up the steep curve of her breasts, he unclasped her bra. His sharp intake of breath sent a shattering bolt of desire through her entire being.

Gianna’s head reeled. Her breasts heaved as she sought to control her excitement.

A deep moan escaped her chest. And she didn’t care. When his fingers rubbed her nipples, Gianna arched against him, leaning into his muscular length. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

“Let it go, Gianna. Let your inhibitions go.”

“I…I can’t.”

He nipped at the spot where her neck met her shoulder. His teeth grazed the tendon there. “Yes, you can. It’s a beautiful thing. Do it. For me.”

Gianna shook her head slowly, melting deeper into the heat of his mouth. But she didn’t have the nerve to open her eyes and face him in the mirror.

“You want it, Gia. You want to break out and scream. Do it now.”

Her nipples strained at his whispered words and in response to his fingertips brushing lightly across her taut tips. “Gia, relax against me.”

Oh, God, she wanted to. She wanted to just pour into him.

“Open your eyes. See how beautiful you look right now all flushed and sexy.”

“I…can’t.”

She couldn’t.

The incredible sensation of him surrounding her was enough. She reveled in it. Her urge was to turn around and encourage him to take her nipples into his mouth and wreak havoc that way. She never had the chance to demand it. His hands slid down the curved length of her waist to the top of her skirt, and without a ripple in the pond of desire he’d stirred up, he unzipped it, then slid it down her thighs.

The sensuous slide of his hands as he pushed the fabric down her hips made her feel so damn sexy. She moaned, deep and throaty. He answered with one of his own. It was the switch Gianna needed. It wasn’t herself she wanted to see in the mirror. No, she wanted to look into Gabe’s dark hooded eyes and know they had only her in their sight.

Her eyes fluttered open. She gasped at the sight before her as more heat shimmered across her sultry skin.

Her rose-tipped breasts jutted out into the air, impudent and demanding satisfaction; her head rested back against the wide width of Gabe’s chest. She licked her full pouty lips and smiled. Her hair hung wildly around her shoulders, with the heated tips of each breast peeking out from the dark strands. The rounded curve of her hips stood out, softly illuminated against the low light. The soft V at the juncture of her thighs hinted at the hot and wanting pussy hiding there.

When she looked directly into Gabe’s eyes and their gazes locked and held in the glass, waves of newfound desire rippled through her. She’d never wanted the attention of another person as she wanted Gabe’s at that moment. More than that, she wanted to know he wanted her as badly.

“Look at yourself, Gianna. Look at what only God could create, and only on his best day.”

She trembled at his words. He made her feel like Venus. His fingertips slipped beneath the elastic of her panties. Gianna watched, mesmerized, as he strummed her skin in slow erotic motions. Her skin plumpened. Her heart rate kicked up to a higher pace, and her mouth was suddenly dry. She licked her lips and arched against him.

“No!” she cried out when his hand slowed to a stop. She grabbed his hand and pressed it hard against her. He laughed low in her ear. “What do you want?”

Embarrassment swept through her, and she ducked her eyes from his. His free hand swept up to her left breast and touched the place over her heart. She felt it leap against his hand. He pressed his lips to her ear and nibbled the lobe. His hand squeezed in a slow discovering cadence over he breasts. “Tell me, Gianna.”

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth to tell him, but she couldn’t.

Gabe’s body stiffened. He flung her hand from his. He grabbed her right thigh and kneaded the skin there, his long fingers working up toward her clitoris. When he brushed bold fingertips across her, it was her turn to stiffen. She stood on her tiptoes to better meet him. “Gabe,” she softly cried.

He pressed his palm against the inflamed mound between her thighs. “Open your eyes.”

Gianna jerked against his hand, shards of fire sparking from the tension in her body. Her breathing came so hot and forced now that she wondered if she would hyperventilate. Slowly she opened her eyes.

He smiled dark and dangerous from behind her. “Good girl. Now watch.”

His fingers slid down into her slickness. The sublime feel of him inside of her was too much.

Gianna screamed.

Using his body to stabilize her, Gabe pushed her skirt down just past her knees with his free hand. With the freedom it gave her, Gianna wantonly opened up to him and pushed against the sinful feel of his fingers. As the thickness of his finger moved in and out of her, her liquid muscles constricted torridly around him. Her inclination was to pump hard against his palm. He denied her, holding her hips at bay. She watched herself in the mirror beg with her body for relief.

“Slower, Gianna, slower,” he whispered.

The episode was surreal. There was no way the flushed beauty in the mirror writhing against the handsome Gabe LaMotta’s hand could be her. But it was. Gianna watched her tongue lick full lips, then bite at the bottom one as her hand pushed against the one between her legs. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she watched her free hand snake backward, wrapping around Gabe’s neck, pulling them harder together.