Hot in the City

“I’m glad to hear that. Tell me if I’m overstepping, but do you think Gianni would wrap this up so we could take it back to your place?”

Her heart slammed in her chest. Was he asking what she thought he was asking? She wasn’t sure what to say...but Della knew what she wanted, and went for it.

“I think he’d do that, yes,” she whispered, lifting her face toward his so she spoke close to his mouth, just a breath away from a kiss.

“Good.”

The way he said the word, with so much sensual promise, made her skin ripple with pinpricks of sensation.

“Though I’m not really that hungry,” she added as she met his eyes when he stepped away.

“I am. Starving,” he said against her ear, and she shivered, knowing he didn’t mean he wanted their leftovers.

Della’s mind spun; this was a first in her life, for sure. Gianni knew to put dinner on her tab, and so she took Gabe’s hand and they walked quickly down the walk, less busy now after dark had fallen.

As they passed into the shadow of a streetlight under a huge tree, Gabe grabbed her hand, stopping her from moving forward. Stepping back under the tree, he pulled her up close and looked down into her face.

“I’ve wanted to do this ever since I saw you on the plane.”

He kissed her, and Della’s world turned upside down. She was pretty sure she had never been kissed before, certainly not like this.

Gabe took control, keeping her tight against him, sliding his tongue between her lips, urging her to open, which she did, so willingly she should have been embarrassed.

But she wasn’t.

Instead, she pressed in close, wound her arms around his neck and made a few forays of her own, nipping at his bottom lip and then licking the spot, making him groan in approval.

She was close enough that she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal against her belly, and that triggered her own libido, too. Still, somewhere in the back of her mind, all she could think was, is this really happening?

“Yes, it really is,” he whispered against her mouth. “As long as you want it to.”

She closed her eyes, her cheeks aflame. Good thing it was so dark. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

“I was thinking it, too,” he reassured her, dipping in for another kiss. “You’re delicious.”

His compliment made her blush and laugh softly against his mouth. No one had ever told her she was delicious.

“Let’s go,” she said, echoing his sentiment from the restaurant.

He grabbed her hand, and they hurried from their hiding spot under the sprawl of the tree, and within minutes she was opening the door and holding her breath, nerves assaulting her again.

She ignored her doubts and inner demons, turning to Gabe and taking matters into her own hands. She pressed up against him, flattening him to the wall of the entryway—he went willingly—and tugged him down by his shirt collar for more kissing.

Merely kissing Gabe was already better than any sex she’d ever had before. Della couldn’t wait to see what would come next.

“I like a woman who knows what she wants,” he managed to say in between deep, wet kisses that she could easily find addicting.

She pulled back and, remembering the moment on the plane when she’d first seen him, she reached up and pushed the recalcitrant shock of hair, which always fell forward, back in place.

He smiled at that and captured her hand with his, bringing it to his lips.

“Upstairs, then?”

Della nodded and turned toward the stairs, but was swamped with sudden doubt. She’d never done this before, meeting a man she barely knew and taking him home to bed. Taking him to her room, her sanctuary, was too intimate, crazy as that seemed considering what they were about to do, and she faltered as she crossed the entry.

His hands cupped her shoulders, rubbing lightly.

“Everything okay?”

Was it?

What if she disappointed him? He was clearly more experienced and more at ease. What if...?

“I can leave. It’s okay, Della” he said reassuringly.

She took a deep breath and turned to face him.

“I’m sorry. Cold feet, I guess. Do you mind if we...stay downstairs?”

“Sure. Listen, let’s sit, have a glass of wine and talk. There’s no pressure. I’ve enjoyed your company, and whether this goes further or not, that doesn’t change.”

The sincerity in his voice did her in. That was sexier than anything, and Della was quite sure she wasn’t going to let him leave until after they had both gotten naked. But a glass of wine sounded good, too.

“Thank you. I do have a nice white wine that I haven’t opened yet. If you want to go in and sit, I can get it from the fridge.”

“Sounds perfect,” he said, leaning in to kiss the side of her neck, sending sparks dancing over her skin.

Della hurried with the wine, hoping Gabe didn’t change his mind, and she almost heaved a sigh of relief when she found him settled comfortably on the sofa, looking at an architectural magazine from her coffee table.

He looked so...right, sitting there. Relaxed and at home, incredibly masculine. And for the moment, all hers.

What was she worried about?

She’d uncorked the wine in the kitchen and brought two glasses with her, setting them on the table, noting he’d pulled the curtains. She filled one of the glasses and turned to him.

He put down the magazine, offering a curious look at the single glass.

She bit her lip, jumping in and convincing herself to take this chance to explore some fantasies, perhaps.

Handing him the glass, she didn’t sit next to him, but instead lowered down over his lap, straddling his strong thighs and enjoying the flicker of surprise—and approval—in his expression.

Della took the glass from his hand, dipped her finger into the bright, golden wine and traced it over his lips.

Heat sparked in his eyes, and she was relieved again that she hadn’t spoiled the evening. Leaning down to lick it from his mouth, she was surprised to feel him catch his breath.

So she did it again, though this time he caught her finger in between his lips and sucked the taste from her skin, and it was her turn to gasp at the incredible sensation.

She knew that fingertips were one of the most concentrated nerve centers in the body, but she’d never really considered them an erogenous zone before—until Gabe sucked in her finger a second time, sending a shock of pleasure down between her thighs, which tightened and squeezed his.