Chapter 7

It was seven that evening. Francesca was wearing black shorts, a blue blouse, and short combat boots. Tony had told her to dress comfortably and casually. It was the only thing he had said to her since she told him Rodrigo was her ex-husband. And it came in through a text. He hadn’t uttered one word other than a stream of Spanish curses as he backed off the bush; he’d let her out, then driven off.

She was nervous, since it had been years since she’d last gone on a date. It had also been a long time since she’d talked about her short-lived marriage, which she was sure would be the subject of the evening. When her doorbell rang, she actually felt nauseous.

Tony’s black hair was slicked back and still a little wet from his shower. He had on jeans and a navy blue polo that looked like it was cutting off the circulation around his biceps. He smelled like expensive cologne. As soon as their eyes met and he smiled, her nerves eased a little.

His dark eyes made their way from her toes up to her hair slowly. He squeezed the back of his neck, then ran his hand over his face. “What? You said casual,” she told him as she looked down at her outfit.

“It’s fine. Come on.” He reached for her hand and led her to the car. “I hope I can control my temper tonight. You’re a fucking hard-on, Francesca. Every guy’s going to be looking at your legs.”

“They’re just shorts. They’re not even short. No one will look twice. You’re just paranoid. Earlier it was the suit and now the shorts. You’re so difficult.”

He made a noise and mumbled something before helping her into his muscle car and closing the door.

“Where are we going?” she asked. “By the way, this is a cool car. A little loud, but I like it. Have I told you that before?”

“I rebuilt it. It’s a 1969 Camaro. And it’s not loud—that’s the purring sound of a perfect engine.” He ran his hand across the dashboard. “There’s a boxing match at the arena. I have tickets.”

She snorted. “First, I meant loud as in flashy. It’s pretty bright—yellow with that black racing stripe down the middle. And second, you’ve been hounding me to go out with you for months, and you’re taking me to a boxing match for our first date?”

“I had tickets. Come on, it’ll be fun. Plus, a friend’s fighting.”

“You’re one weird guy, Antonio Marino.” He looked over at her and smiled. “But I do like to watch boxing. Boxing and tennis—those are the only sports I follow.”

He chuckled. “Tennis? What a combo. And you say I’m weird. Years ago, a judge ordered me to do some community service as punishment for a fight. I worked with some underprivileged kids on boxing, and this one kid, Tommy, he’s great. This is his first fight. He’s fifteen.”

She put her hand over his on his lap. “That’s a real nice thing to do.”

He shrugged.

Once they arrived at the small arena, Francesca was surprised—all the fighters were young. There were kids competing in judo tournaments, tae kwon do, and boxing. He took her hand and led them to the back toward a thin kid with shaggy hair and goggles for glasses. He was jumping rope but stopped and ran full throttle toward Tony as soon as he saw him. “Tony!”

“Hey, champ. Looking good.” He squeezed the boy’s scrawny arms.

“Thanks. So glad you came. You should see Roberto, the guy I’m fighting. He looks like a wimp. I’m going to get him real good.” The boy jumped up and down, throwing punches at the air.

Tony kneeled down, grabbed the kid’s hands, and began to tighten the gloves, which hadn’t been put on correctly. “That’s great, Tommy. But don’t get too confident. You have to concentrate. You remember what I taught you, right? Keep your distance. Arms up.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got this.” The boy smiled.

Tony stood up. “Tommy, I’d like you to meet my friend Francesca. Francesca, this is Tommy.”

“Hi.” The boy waved with a gloved hand.

“Hi there, Tommy.” Francesca tapped his gloves. “Those’re some nice gloves you got there. And those shorts—they remind me of Tony’s.”

“Yeah. He got them for me.”

Francesca looked up at Tony, who shrugged. Knowing that Tony had done all this for the boy made her rethink a number of her opinions about him. She took Tony’s hand, laced their fingers together, and squeezed.

“We’ll see you later, champ.”

“Bye, Tony. Bye, Francesca.”

“Bye, Tommy. Good luck.”

When Tommy had gone off to join his friends, Francesca reached up and placed a kiss on Tony’s lips.

“What’s that for?”

“You’re actually a good guy, Tony. If you could control that temper, any woman would be lucky to have you.”

“I have one woman in mind, but she has all sorts of issues. If she could work on her issues, let go a little, have a little fun, any man would be honored to have her.” He winked, returned the kiss, and led her to the bleachers.

Her heart was pounding. The man was sweet and said the most perfect things when he wanted to.

They sat in comfortable silence on the uncomfortable stadium bleachers as they ate hot dogs and chips, drank beers, and watched the first few fights. Tony was actually quite charming and funny when he relaxed. They cheered and roared, laughed, and drank. Every so often, when he wasn’t hollering into the ring as if the fighters could actually hear him, Tony would casually place his hand on her thigh.

Then it was Tommy’s turn. Tony stood and whistled when the fight began. Tommy’s coach looked slightly annoyed since Tony was yelling louder than he was, and the fighter followed Tony’s advice rather than his coach’s. Francesca had to admit, the kid was good. He was fast on his feet and didn’t hesitate on his throws. He was young and needed a lot of training, but if he kept it up, one day he’d be great.

“He’s good, right?” Tony said proudly.

“Amazing!” Francesca said as the referee lifted Tommy’s hand, declaring him the winner.

They made their way down and congratulated Tommy. Tony promised to go by the community center and help Tommy work on some moves, and Tommy promised to keep practicing.

It had been the perfect date, and she didn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. She didn’t really want it to end. “You want to grab a drink at the Pier?” she asked.

“Sure,” he replied. As he drove she checked her phone and was surprised to see a missed call from an unknown phone number and a text. The text was from Rodrigo asking her to call him. She deleted the text and put her phone away. She didn’t have anything to say to him. If it was business-related, his agent would contact Tony’s agent and he’d fill her in.

As soon as they entered the Pier they saw everyone. Jack and Chrissy, Jessica and Slade, Travis, JL, Cain, Violet—even Enzo was there.

Everyone said hello, and even though she could tell they all wanted to know why she was with Tony, everyone discreetly avoided the subject.

Slade slapped the back of Tony’s shoulder. “Hey, man, come play pool with us.”

The women were all seated at a table drinking, and Tony looked at Francesca, unsure. “I’m fine. Go,” she urged.

“Oh…he doesn’t want to leave her alone. They are so cute!” Chrissy squealed.

Francesca’s face crimsoned. “Shut up,” she said playfully.

Tony kissed her cheek and whispered, “You sure?”

“Yeah. Go, have fun.”

“Fine. But this is your chance to have fun too.” She nodded in understanding before sliding into the booth. She’d already admitted to him how she didn’t get to have much fun. He was trying to help her loosen up.

“Whatcha want to drink?” JL asked. Francesca looked at the pitcher of beer. Jessica was having what looked like whiskey, but the rest of the women were having beer. She pointed to the plastic cups and the beer, and JL quickly poured.

“Soooo…,” Violet began with a knowing look.

“What?” Francesca asked.

“You on a date with the Latin stallion?” Chrissy asked.

Francesca snorted. “Oh, stop that.” She gulped more beer and glanced at Tony. He was holding the cue in his hand, but his eyes were on her.

“That man is sexy. Look how he’s staring at you,” Jessica said.

All the women turned their heads. Francesca laughed and shook her head. Tony winked at the women, who all swooned.

They’d been drinking for quite some time before she’d arrived, and they were already tipsy. Chrissy leaned in as if she were saying something crucial to national security. “Can I ask you something?” All the other women leaned in as well and Francesca nodded. “Is he…” Chrissy put her hands apart as if measuring some distance. “An actual stallion?” She waggled her eyebrows, and all the women roared.

“Oh my God. You guys are terrible.” Francesca blushed.

“You’re really not going to tell us?” Jessica pouted. “Or wait!” She put her hands over her mouth. “You don’t know. You haven’t seen it yet!”

Actually, Jessica was right—Francesca hadn’t seen it yet. When they’d done it at the beach, she hadn’t seen a thing.

Jessica slid her whiskey over to Francesca. “Here. Drink this. Loosen up. You always seem wound up, and by the look in Tony’s eyes, you’re going to be seeing all of him tonight!” The women giggled, and in order to avoid more conversation, Francesca took the drink, gulped it down, and signaled for the bartender, Penny, to bring her another one.

For the next hour the girls laughed, gossiped, drank, and said things that made Francesca blush—but she was having so much fun she didn’t care. She excused herself to go the restroom but was stopped halfway by a hand on her shoulder.

“Frankie? Frankie Silva? Is that you?”

She cringed every time she heard someone call her by that name. She turned around to see yet another familiar face. “Adam?” He’d trained with her, Rodrigo, and the rest of the guys when they’d been young. Most of the men had gone off and become professional fighters—her father had followed all the guys’ careers throughout the years and would frequently update Francesca—but this one in particular had won some of the biggest featherweight fights in the world.

“Oh, shit! It is you. You used to be this little tomboy, but now…” He gave her a once-over that sent chills down her spine. “Wow. Looks like Frankie’s all grown up.”

“Frances,” she hissed. “My name is Frances.” She hadn’t seen anyone from her past for nearly a decade, and now she’d been surprised twice in twenty-four hours.

“Yeah, well, Frankie…” He looked her up and down again. This time it was borderline indecent the way his eyes roamed her body and his tongue flicked out. If she were a lesser woman, she’d have shivered. Good-looking or not, the guy was making her uncomfortable.

She looked over his shoulder and was thankful to see Tony busy with the guys. Otherwise she was sure he’d take issue with the man talking to her.

The slime stepped closer. “I heard you’ve been running Pai’s Academy. Now that I’ve seen you, I could be persuaded to start training there again.” He reached up and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “How much one-on-one training are you willing to give me, sweetheart?”

Tony was suddenly next to her and was about to step toward the guy, but she put her arm out to stop him. The last thing she needed was to have Tony get involved in another scandal.

“You’re disgusting. Fuck you,” she said to Adam. Then she turned to leave, giving Tony a look that said, You better follow me or else.

Unfortunately, Adam was an idiot. Instead of walking away or just letting her go, he grabbed her ass and said, “That’s exactly the proposition I was hoping for.”

Before Tony could react, Francesca grabbed the man’s arm and in one quick move pivoted back and around, so that Adam’s arm was now bent in an unnatural position behind him. Tony was too stunned to move, and apparently so were the rest of the guys and most of the other Pier patrons, who were all now watching. No one came to help Adam, who was now silent, probably because he realized he was about to tap out to a woman. Francesca took a step between his legs and maneuvered his bent arm in a way that caused his legs to buckle and the man to fall to his knees. Once there, she quickly changed position until she was bent over his body, his arm hyperextended and on the verge of breaking.

Tony finally unswallowed his tongue and crouched down. “I think she’d like you to apologize.”

The stubborn man only moaned, so she tightened her hold.

“How ’bout now?” Tony said with a smirk.

“S-sorry,” he whimpered. She let go and went to stand next to Tony, who right there in front of all their friends took her in his arms and planted a long sensual kiss on her, one that made her forget her name. There were catcalls and whistles, none of which she heard.

“What was that?” Jessica asked.

“That right there was fucking awesome. That’s what that was,” Travis said. “Shit, I didn’t know you could fight.”

Slade had an arm slung around Jessica. “Yep. She used to be bad-ass. I haven’t seen her do anything like that since she was a kid at her dad’s Academy.”

“You knew?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, man. I trained with her father for years; she used to run around in pigtails kicking everyone’s ass.” He smiled at Francesca. “Then she grew up and fought for real. She’s good. Could’ve gone professional if she wanted to.”

“But I didn’t. So let’s not talk about it anymore,” Francesca said, waving her hand dismissively. “Come on, let’s go,” she said to Tony, and pulled him out the door.

When they got to the parking lot, Tony said, “That was so sexy. I think I’m in love.” He put his hand over his heart, then looked down. “At least I know my dick is.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I have to tell you something, though,” he went on, his demeanor a bit more serious than before. “No matter how hot it was, that will never, ever, happen again. I know you can take care of yourself. I have no doubt about that. You believe me when I tell you that?”

She nodded.

“Good, but I’m still a man, cariño. I will never stand by and watch that happen again. I defend what’s mine, and next time you stand in my way, I’ll lock you in the car if I have to and then come back and break his face.”

Francesca put her hands up. “I’m not yours.”

He pulled her close and kissed her. “Tonight you are mine. You didn’t let me beat the shit out of him. Instead you did, and that seriously turned me on.”

“You’re a pig. A moment ago you were threatening to break his face.”

“And now I’m ready to spread you over this car and fuck the shit out of you.”

“You’re seriously a vulgar pig.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. “You amaze me, Francesca. You’re the most feminine woman I’ve ever met, yet you just had a hundred-and-fifty-pound professional fighter on his knees. Hell, you have me on my knees right now.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re so beautiful, you take my breath away.”

She looked down, her face bright red.

“And then I tell you you’re beautiful and you blush. You are complicated as fuck. But so damn sexy.” He cupped her face. “Beautiful Francesca, can I please kiss you now?”

“Why do you always ask?” she said, and gulped. “You know you can.”

“Because that face of yours, it sometimes gives away how scared you are. Not of me, but of us. I just want to make sure that I don’t get too aggressive again. That you want this too.”

“Aggressive?” She snorted. “You? Not at all. That whole thing about fucking me on the hood of your car? Yeah, that was in no way aggressive.”

He laughed before leaning forward and gently brushing his mouth against her plump lips. He pulled back a little and looked into her eyes for permission. Seeing it there, he coaxed her lips with his tongue and nipped her delicately until finally she opened for him, and he penetrated her mouth. Her tongue was hesitant, as were her arms. She seemed unsure.

He pulled away and asked, “You okay?”

She was beet red. “Yeah. Just…”

“Talk to me, cariño.”

“Can you…can we…can we try that again?”

He smiled and without hesitation pressed his lips to hers. This time her arms went around his neck. The kiss was tender and sweet, and he wouldn’t have changed it for anything. His lips on her mouth were open, but this time his tongue didn’t enter. He was waiting on her. For her to make a move. To see how far she wanted to take it this time. Because really, he wanted to take this further. Much further. As in all the way to his house. On his bed. Naked. But he’d been a complete asshole the first time they’d made love, and he felt a lot of regret about that.

After a few hesitant moments, her tongue finally explored his mouth and her body pressed further into his. She nipped his bottom lip and he pulled her closer to him. When she moaned into his mouth, it took all he had not to lift her up and rip her clothes off right there in the parking lot. When she finally released him, she was panting. Her eyes were glazed over.

“Wow?” It was a question.

“Yes. Wow.”

She smiled and got in his car. He went around to the driver’s side and noticed her brushing her fingers against her lips as if memorizing what had just happened. It still shocked him how inexperienced she was. She really was new to this, and she was actually quite delicate.

“Tell me more about yourself,” Francesca said as he began to drive.

“You already know I was raised in a house full of women, and not just women, but Cuban women. That’s five feisty, loud females.” Tony had one hand on the steering wheel and the other on her thigh as he recounted some funny stories from his childhood.

“How about your dad?”

“He was a violent drunk. Died a few years ago.”

“I’m sure there’s a story there. You want to share?”

“Not really.” He squeezed her knee as they arrived at her house. To his surprise, she invited him in for a nightcap. Maybe she didn’t want the date to end either.

Once they were inside, he turned the tables on her. “You want to share about Rodrigo?”

She opened a bottle of wine, poured them each a glass, and took a long pull of the red liquid. After a moment she began. “We were young and stupid. We thought we were in love, but it didn’t work out.”

“Expand, please.”

She groaned. “Fine. I met Rodrigo when I was maybe five years old. He was six and had just moved to Tarpon Springs. His parents signed him up at WtF, and like all parents, they thought he was very good. He trained with my dad, never missing a day, and it turned out that his parents were right. He was a jiu jitsu prodigy, according to my pai. We lived across the street in an apartment and I spent all my time at the gym with my dad. I swear, looking back, I was a lovesick idiot. I think I fell in love with Rodrigo the first time I saw him. I really didn’t have any friends, since I was such a tomboy and the kids in school made fun of me all the time, but Rodrigo always defended me through the years.

“Then I turned seventeen. My boobs came in, the braces came off, and even though I still didn’t fit in with the girls, he took notice. He started looking at me as more than a friend. He was the only one. Boys never took me seriously. He asked my father for permission to take me out on a date. My dad is a very strict Catholic, mind you. Plus Rodrigo had always seen him as a father figure, since they spent so many years together training. After some time my father finally agreed. Rodrigo was always very respectful and careful not to cross the line, so we dated for months. By that time he was already agented and about to sign up to do a string of fights overseas. He wanted me to go. My father refused. We hadn’t even slept together yet because of my upbringing. So he proposed, and I said yes. I had just turned eighteen. Had a big falling-out with my dad that lasted all of twenty minutes until he finally consented. Within a week we were married and I went with him to Japan, where the first fight was to take place.

“The honeymoon period lasted less than a month, because as soon as he won the first fight and all those ring bunnies began to hang around him, he started disappearing on me. I suspected he was cheating, but I wasn’t sure. Or at least I didn’t want to see it. I was left alone a lot in a country where I didn’t know the language and I didn’t know anyone, so I shut down and stayed mostly in the hotel wherever we went. When he was around we fought a lot, and the last fight was brutal. We both said some hurtful things, and he made me feel as if I was lucky to be with him because he was this hotshot fighter and I was just this frumpy tomboy. I wasn’t sexy enough, wasn’t pretty like those women who threw themselves at him. Then one day I threatened to leave, and he didn’t fight back. We’d been married a little over two years. So I packed up my shit, took the first flight out, and came back to Tarpon Springs. I found an attorney, who sent him the papers; it was all done quickly, and until I bumped into him here we hadn’t said one word to each other since. The end.”

“Damn.” He leaned back and ran his hand down his face. “I’m kind of speechless here. But I guess now I can see why you’re so skittish.”

She sipped her wine slowly.

“I was right when I said that a boy fucked you up. He was a boy who didn’t know a good thing when it was right in front of his face.” He extended his hand to her. “Come here, cariño.” Surprisingly, she put her wineglass down and walked over to him. He crooked his finger into a belt loop of her shorts and pulled her into his lap. “I can’t imagine that he thought you weren’t sexy enough. Everything you do is sexy. The way you walk, talk, argue, laugh. All of it. It’s sexy.”

“Well, I don’t know about all that.” She laughed nervously and tried to stand, but he gripped her tighter.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t try to run away.”

“I’m not. I’m just going to go clean up.”

“That’s not true. You’re trying to run away.”

How could he read her so well?

“So you’re twenty-eight years old and you told me you hadn’t had sex for eight years. Does that mean that you haven’t had sex since Rodrigo?”

“You’re a mathematical genius.”

“Stop being cute.” He pulled on her ponytail. “Was Rodrigo your only one, then?”

“And you.”

“Now I really feel terrible about how I took you last time. You shoulda told me it had been a long time. Did I hurt you, mi amor?”

She didn’t look at him. “No.”

“Do you feel safe with me? Do you think I’d ever hurt you?”

“I know you’d never hurt me, and I’m not scared of you. I’m just kind of nervous,” she admitted, finally looking up at him. “It’s not a safety thing. Rodrigo never physically hurt me. It’s an emotional thing. I’m scared that I’ll start feeling things. That I’ll start depending on you. And then you’ll leave. Every time you say those intense things you say, you freak me the fuck out.”

“Then prepare yourself to really be freaked out.” She didn’t say anything. She just looked at him. “I want to make love to you, Francesca.” That rolling r in her name made her melt. “Can I do that? Is it too soon? Can I make love to you? Show you how good you can feel? Show you what I should’ve showed you that night?”

It really wasn’t even a question, because sane women didn’t actually decline offers like that from someone like Tony.

She swallowed and tried to catch her breath. Emotions flooded her—anxiety, fear, excitement. She nodded because that was all she was able to do.

“Need words.”

“Yes,” she croaked. It was almost inaudible.

“Can I kiss you?”

Again she croaked out a yes. He leaned down and kissed her, and like all their kisses, it began soft but quickly turned into fireworks. He shifted her so she sat straddled on him as he continued to assault her lips with his.

His face was tucked against her neck, her long red hair covering him like a curtain. Her arms tightened around his neck with each nip of his teeth against the sensitive area behind her ear. Her hand wandered underneath the top of his shirt, and her nails gently scratched his skin. The only way she could go through with this was if she had some control, or semblance of control. The first time had been so fast and lust had been the factor that had gotten her through it. She hadn’t really had time to think about what was happening.

But now…he was taking it slow, so now she had time to be inside her head. To think. Complete loss of control, especially to something she was so unfamiliar with, was not something she could handle, and she was afraid she’d fail to go through with it. Every time she let out a small whimper or her nail clawed a little less gently, his grip tightened and his nips became more like love bites, which felt wonderful. He stood, lifting her with him, and she wrapped her legs around him. Not releasing his mouth from her neck and shoulder, he walked blindly to her room and slowly placed her on the bed.

Francesca scooted backward, and when her back hit the headboard, she wrapped her arms around her bent knees.

She was obviously nervous. Was he some kind of depraved nut job? Because he found that to be the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. It was the two sides of Francesca that made her so tempting: the fiery vixen sure of herself outside the bedroom and the timid one with the deer-in-the-headlights look in the bedroom. He wouldn’t go further than she was willing to go, but he couldn’t let the opportunity pass him by, and he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let some other man be the first after so many years. It was an urge he couldn’t shake. Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he was known to be a selfish bastard.

“Are you sure?” he asked. She didn’t look sure. She looked frightened, as if she might bolt at any second.

All she did was nod, her face almost completely buried against her knees.

Tony toed off his shoes and slowly removed his socks. He reached behind and lifted his shirt in one pull. Francesca’s eyes widened as her eyes grazed him. He pushed his jeans down along with his boxers, threw them aside, and then placed one knee on the bed as he made his way to her. He sat on his haunches and placed his hands on her knees right in front of her. “We don’t have to do this.” God, but he wanted to.

“No. I want to.”

“You sure? ’Cause, mi amor, you look like you’re about to take off running.”

She straightened her back and moved so that her legs were now tucked underneath her more casually. “I’m not.”

Tony leaned in, placed a soft kiss on her lips, and then pulled away. Her puckered lips followed his as if there were a magnetic pull between them. Tony chuckled, reached under her knees and back, and laid her flat on the bed, with his body over hers. He could see the vein at the base of her throat throb. He wanted to set her at ease, but she was such a hardheaded woman. If she wouldn’t even admit to herself she was nervous, it would be almost impossible to get her to relax. He moved the palm of his hand from her cheek to her throat, then leaned back down and kissed her again, this time less gently. The kiss quickly became urgent, something that seemed to happen often between them. Scared or not, the woman wanted him as much as he wanted her. Of this he was sure.

“So beautiful,” he whispered into her mouth.

The pounding of her heart was like another living, breathing person in the room. He’d never slept with someone so nervous, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to take her like this. It didn’t feel right.

He pulled away. “I can’t do this.”

She turned on her side to face him, her lips swollen, her face flushed, her hair covering parts of her face. “W-what?”

“I want to. Dios mío, I want to.” He stroked her face. “But I don’t want you to feel pressured. I don’t know….”

She rolled onto her back and placed her arm over her face.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? He turned to face her. A few long moments passed before she finally spoke.

“I’m just scared.” It was so low that at first he wasn’t even sure she had said anything at all. Then she repeated the words, her voice small and shaky. At that moment, seeing her vulnerability, he felt his heart rip open, and the urge for just sex was replaced by an unbelievably fierce desire to wrap her up in his arms and protect her from anything and everything that could possibly make her scared. Including himself. He didn’t know what to do with these newfound emotions except bottle them up and do whatever he needed to do to set her at ease. Also, he wanted to hunt down Rodrigo and beat the living shit out of him for making her this way.

Tony took the arm that was draped over her face, kissed the palm of her hand, and placed it on the bed. He wanted to see her eyes. The same hazel eyes that had possessed him for the last five months. “Please, don’t be scared with me. It kind of hurts my heart.”

“God, you can be sweet.” She smiled for the first time since arriving at her house. “Last time I wasn’t really thinking. You took control, and it just kind of happened. Now we’ve talked about it, and all this lead-in, it’s just…it’s been a long time and I’m just nervous.” She tried to cover her face with her arm again, but he stopped her and put her palm against his lips. “What if I’m no good? What if it’s just a big disappointment? What if we do it and then you leave tomorrow and I never see you again? And what if everything I just said scares the shit out of you? See, I’m no good at this.”

He’d thought he’d been shocked before, but now he was close to speechless.

“Mi amor, there’s nothing you could possibly do to disappoint me. I can’t make lifetime promises, but I can promise you that no matter what happens I’ll still be here tomorrow. You didn’t disappoint me our first time, and someone who kisses the way you do can’t disappoint in bed. It’s impossible. Let me be in control again. Stop worrying. Stop thinking.”

She took a deep breath. “Will you make love to me? Take charge. Make me forget everything from before this moment?”

Her voice, her hesitation, her vulnerability—it was all a punch in the gut. There was so much meaning in those words, and being honored with a request like that…He suddenly had a lump in his throat.

“You tell me to stop anytime you want, okay?” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip as he moved onto his knees and helped her out of her shirt. His eyes scanned her perfect body. Tanned, toned, and perfect. He couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to not take the time to admire her body last time.

Small and delicately written in cursive, she had the word força tattooed under her right breast. He pointed to it. “Force?”

“ ‘Strength’ and ‘force’ are the same words in Portuguese.”

“Why?” He leaned down and swept his tongue over the black lettering.

“Because after Rodrigo, I was so broken for so long until one day I just woke up and decided that I wasn’t going to let any man, or anyone for that matter, have that kind of hold on me. So every day I remember that I have to be strong.”

“I think you should think of it as force because you are a force, Francesca. You command a room with your suits and attitude. You already have the strength. You don’t need to be reminded.”

“Seriously, you need to stop being so sweet. It’s kind of freaking me out.” She laughed and then scanned his chest. “I’ve seen the tattoo on your forearm. But for a badass fighter, that’s all you got? That’s pretty tame.”

“My mother hates tattoos. She promised that if I came home with any more, she’d beat me with a stick.” They both laughed.

“Before today, I didn’t really get it. Not on you, at least.” She read out loud the one on his forearm: “Gentleness can only be expected from the strong.” She kissed it before she continued, “You’re the strongest man I know and yet the softest.”

“You know, I’ve been told I have a temper.”

She snorted. “Just a little.” She kissed him again. “Did you know that the first part of that quote is ‘Only the weak are cruel’?”

“I did know that, brainy,” he said as his hand roamed her body. “Jesus Christ, you are so beautiful.” He kissed her belly button and hooked his fingers through the sides of her blue panties. As soon as he began to pull them off, he saw low on her hip bone, in the same font and size as her other tattoo, the words If you’re ready to die, then you’re ready to live.

He looked up her body to see her looking at him. “I found another one.” Before he had a chance to ask, she said, “Another day.” He nodded before continuing to slide her panties down her legs. He kissed the insides of her legs as he moved back up, his forearms braced on either side of her face, his body over hers. With his knees he nudged her legs apart and positioned himself right…there. One push and he’d be inside.

“You still with me, cariño?”

Her eyes were closed and she nodded. He could see her throat bobbing as she tried to swallow. He suddenly had a lump in his throat too.

With one hand he caressed her face again, and he brought the other hand between their bodies, where he found her more ready than he’d thought she would be. She looked so nervous and scared, he hadn’t thought she was actually turned on, but she was. Boy, was she! He circled her clit with his thumb as he slowly slid a finger inside.

He said into her mouth. “I still can’t believe how tight you are.” Her hands raked his back as he increased the pressure on his thumb. “Tell me what you want.” Her answer was to arch her back, pushing her body closer to him, his fingers deeper inside. “I need words, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you.” Her voice was shaky but her words were assertive. That was what he wanted to hear. To see at least a little of the woman who had been driving him crazy for months. The tigress who’d made him want to fuck her into submission when she gave him one of her tongue lashings at the gym. It was a weird conundrum: hate her or love her. All he knew was that at the moment it was too soon for love, but he definitely didn’t hate her.

He used the same hand to guide himself to her entrance. “You sure? You’re ready? I’ll stop if you need me to.”

“You know I’m not a virgin, Tony.”

“I know, mi amor, but you’re so tight.” He slowly pushed inside.

She let out a breath, her lips a straight line. “K-keep going.”

“Are you sure? Open your thighs further apart for me, cariño.” He closed his eyes as if he were in pain too. “You must have hurt so much last time. Fuck.”

“Stop it.” She pulled him closer. “I don’t regret last time, and I’ll be so pissed at you if you ruin tonight with something we can’t change. So just stop it, please. I’m fine. I need more.”

He pushed in a little deeper. She was warm, wet, and so constricting that it was taking every inch of his self-control not to push inside and lose himself in her. She let out a little whimper that sounded more pained than pleasurable, but then she croaked out, “More.” He leaned in and put his mouth on hers in a devouring, passion-fueled kiss. When she began to kiss him back with ardent desire, he noticed she seemed relaxed, or at the very least distracted, and he took the opportunity to push the rest of the way inside. Once he was all the way in, he stopped.

Stopped, because the pleasure was too much.

Stopped, because she made the sexiest noise he’d ever heard.

Stopped, because the entire situation was making him feel all sorts of things he couldn’t take the time to evaluate at the moment. Feelings that were like none other he’d ever felt before. Feelings he knew he had no right to feel with a woman as delicate as Francesca. He’d been lacking in the feelings department for a long time; this might have been his first true lovemaking experience.

“I know I’m not that experienced in this, but I remember enough to know you gotta move, Tony.” She squeezed the back of his neck and wrapped a leg around one of his calves. “Please.” She reached up and kissed him on the lips. “I’m not made of glass.” She tipped her hips up. “This feels so good.”

“Good is not the word I’d use to describe this.” He began to move a little faster as he kissed her, his thumbs stroking her cheeks, his forearms still on either side of her face. Most women tended to either just lie there and let him do the work or wrap their legs around his waist. She had her legs intertwined with his calves, and as she straightened her legs his body melded more into hers. It was either that or she’d snap his knee, so getting closer to her seemed like the better option. She was trying to control the situation even if she didn’t realize it.

“You’re so fucking tight, I feel like I’m hur—”

“Shut up. Please. You’re making me feel weird.” In one quick motion she flipped him over, and now she was on top.

With a big toothy grin he said, “Oh, baby, you’re in for it now.”

What the hell was she thinking, flipping them over? She was not bold or experienced enough to fuck him. Yeah, she had felt brave for a minute there, but what the hell was she supposed to do now? Her fear must have been written all over her face, because Tony pulled her down against his chest and wrapped his arms around her as he moved under her. And God, it felt wonderful—her warm skin against the protective cocoon of his arms. He smelled delicious and he looked even better—the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. The rough edges of his face were lined with stubble. His hard chest was sprinkled with hair. Tony was all man. She had seen him without a shirt at the Academy countless times, but now, feeling him, his wide frame, thick thighs…it was a heady thing.

She was brought out of her thoughts when he flipped her on her back again. He reached between their bodies and began to stroke her clit with his callused finger as he continued to move in and out. He took one of her nipples into his mouth and nipped. The sensation was too much and the pressure began to build. “Jesus Christ! You’re coming, baby. Open your eyes, let me see you come.”

A few more pumps with his hips and flicks of his fingers, and she came undone. She was not prepared for the orgasm. She’d had orgasms before, but this was something else. Her mind was floating in space, and before she had a chance to come back to earth, he flipped them over so that Francesca was once again on top, but this time he didn’t bring her chest to his. He grabbed her hips and moved her up and down while at the same time moving his hips up. He was using her body for his pleasure, and she loved it more than she’d ever thought possible. Her hands instinctively grabbed the top of the headboard as he continued to push her down onto him, fast and hard. His movements started to become uneven and his grip on her waist a little tighter. Then, with a deep guttural groan, he pushed her down one last time, and his body stiffened.

Unsure what to do, she tried to get off, but with his eyes still closed and a satisfied lazy grin on his face, he pulled her into his body and held her tight while his breathing evened out.

“I want to ask if you’re okay, but I don’t want to piss you off.”

She pushed up to look at his face. “I’m okay.” She smiled back.

He kissed her again before rolling her to her back and climbing off the bed. He returned a minute later, but her eyes were already heavy with sleep. He got into the bed, pulled her toward him, and wrapped his arms around her.

“This was so perfect,” was all she managed to say.

“Tomorrow, we talk. Now, just sleep.” He kissed her again before they both drifted off.