Chapter Three
Marco thinned his lips to keep from saying yes.
Did she know how much of a hassle she’d created by refusing to sell them her space? Or hell, refusing to do what was best for her.
If they didn’t make a deal, she’d lose her shop in a matter of weeks because of her mounting debts. He’d had a corporate investigator look into them—she had lost clients because a competitor opened across the street, but even before that her clientele had fled because she’d taken care of her father during his illness. Her mother had health problems herself, so Lily ended up taking care of both parents, thus not making enough money, and not showing up at work enough, canceling on clients.
She’d sacrificed for others, which was commendable and naive. He looked at her now, half naked in his office, and a rush of desire seared his veins. Her past and how many lovers she had before him didn’t matter, but he believed her words. Despite the bold way she’d started her act, taking off her shirt and bra and almost sending him to the nearest ER with a heart attack, she wasn’t a woman who did this every day. The challenge in her eyes had an undercurrent of fear, of vulnerability, probably because she questioned herself. Her beautiful hair stayed in a low ponytail when it should have been framing her striking face.
Lily’s adorableness complicated things. She wasn’t a sex toy, but a smart, kind, caring woman. The kind of girl one brings home to meet one’s parents.
The kind of girl… An invisible light switched on inside his brain. His mind raced, a bolt of adrenaline rushing through him. Yes. How had he not figured this out before? After Elizabeth had declined his offer, he’d contemplated calling an actress, but even unknown actors had social media accounts and artists were, by nature, attention lovers. Meanwhile sweet Lily… “I’ll meet all your conditions, if you agree to a small one of mine. Something new.”
“What is it?” she asked, her voice unsteady.
He fixed his collar. Asking her to step in and pretend to be his fiancée seemed more preposterous than having her in his bed for a month. Of course, their chemistry resulted from an organic attraction, and there certainly wasn’t anything organic about a pretend engagement. Hell, he’d had a short-lived, real engagement in the past, and that one didn’t bring good memories, either. “In two weeks, I have a party to attend on an island in Italy. My grandmother is celebrating her last birthday,” he said. Why beat around the bush, when Nonna’s heart wouldn’t see another year? From what he’d heard, she was still quite functional, even though her level of activity had decreased, and she had nurse technician who she introduced to friends as a simple companion.
She shrugged. “Oh. I’m sorry. Is this your way of telling me you want to use those days outside of the thirty days? Or does it mean I get a break from all the sex?”
“Means you’re coming with me.”
She blinked. Twice. “To Italy?”
“Yes. As my fake fiancée. I want to give my grandmother the gift of thinking I’ve…settled down. That’s a parting present from me,” he said after taking a deep breath.
She rubbed the back of her neck. “Wow. That seems a lot more complicated than being in a room with you.”
“My family will adore you. All I ask is for you to remember this is just a farce,” he said firmly. Not that he expected her to fall for him, but he needed to be honest about his intentions. His doomed relationship with Angelica had shown him he wasn’t ready for marriage yet, or maybe ever. When that time arrived, he’d choose someone who was a good match in his life, using requirements that didn’t include an untamable attraction. Excess of passion had been what ruined his parents’ marriage, amongst other things, and he’d never subject himself or his future kids to the same fate.
“Oh, trust me, I’ll know that every second.”
He erased the distance between them and angled closer. “I hope not every second.” He made an effort to keep his focus on her face and not slid his gaze down her soft neck and unbelievably full, large tits. His mouth watered at the sight of them, and he’d nibble and suck them in good time. Now they had logistics to worry about.
“So if I pretend to be your fiancée, you’re all in? I get to keep my salon and you settle my debts?”
“Yes. Deal?” he asked, offering her his hand.
She glanced at his hand before stretching out her own for a handshake. “Deal.”
He pulled her close until her naked body rubbed against his, and she gasped but didn’t fight him. He inhaled her gorgeous fragrance and whispered in her ear, “I’ll email you the contract in a couple of hours. Are you safe?”
“As in I won’t steal your expensive watch when you’re napping and sell it for cash?”
“Safe. Clean,” he repeated, in a tone that left no room for misinterpretation.
“Yes, of course I am. I’m also on the pill. I did a routine check with my girl doctor last month, and if you want—”
“I believe you,” he said. “I also saw a doctor recently, but I’m emailing you the results just so you know I’m telling the truth.” He rarely embarked in an affair with a woman without using condoms. With Lily, though, he wanted nothing more than to be inside her completely. The idea stirred his groin. “Tonight, we’ll go out and celebrate our agreement,” he said, and couldn’t resist lowering his hand down to her cute tattoo, slipping a finger inside her underwear.
She looked up at him, desire gleaming in her eyes. She shivered under his touch, a moan escaping from her sensual mouth. His whole being tingled, his body sending him signs of arousal he couldn’t deny. Dio. He had to deny…for now. He couldn’t take her yet—not without the confidentiality agreement in place, or the other contract he’d have his lawyer modify. “Get ready, gorgeous. Tonight, your butterfly will soar.”
…
“Is she here?” Marco asked the hostess of one of the best restaurants in Manhattan. Dio, he hoped Lily liked sushi.
“Yes.” Karen smiled. “She arrived twenty minutes ago, and we sat her at your favorite table.”
He nodded. A habitué at the exquisite eatery, he knew exactly what that meant—the booth located on the second floor, in an intimate area. He strode through the soothing ambience formed by a miniature cherry blossom tree and several statues throughout the area. Low music played, more sounds than lyrics. He enjoyed coming to this place to relax after a long day.
Of course, he would have enjoyed it much more if he hadn’t been late. His plan to pick her up, to make their deal a bit more personal, went down the drain when one of his properties had an accidental fire. No one had been hurt, but he had to make a statement, contact the PR team, and quickly visit the location to make sure everyone was safe. His brother was still in Los Angeles, and he decided to wait to tell him they weren’t going to build the miraculous garage after all. Nico wouldn’t be happy, but he’d deal.
When he arrived at the booth, a waiter was taking Lily’s drink order. She smiled at the young man, and something inside him throbbed, like he could punch the guy for being the receiver of her radiant beam. One second in her company and he already wasn’t thinking straight. That’s why he needed to screw her until the novelty wore off.
“Hi,” she said.
He noticed the hues of gold in her green irises, the freckles peppering her nose and cheeks. Dio, she looked even more delectable than earlier. Her blond hair was up, with a few strands framing her face. A cherry-red lipstick coated her kissable mouth, and a black dress clung to her curves. The U-neck cut displayed a generous amount of the valley between her breasts, her tits squeezed into the fabric.
A surge of arousal bolted through him. Without yanking his gaze from her, he slid next to her, grabbed the napkin, and placed it on his lap. “Hey.”
“And for you, Mr. Giordano?” the waiter asked him.
“Scotch. On the rocks,” he said, grateful he wasn’t driving tonight. He’d entertained taking his own sports car and not using the limo service, but ended up deciding his hands should be on her at all times—certainly not on a steering wheel.
The waiter nodded and left.
“Sorry I’m late. I had to take care of something.”
She waved him off. “It’s okay. Like what you see?” she asked him.
Shit. He’d been gawking at her, his mouth watering at her beauty like he was a horny teenager who never took girls out. Certainly not like the successful businessman who had no problem in finding a hot date. “You’re wearing your hair up again. I was just thinking that’s intriguing, given your occupation.”
“Oh.” She touched her hair, then her hand slid down her neck. “It’s habit. I’m always doing stuff.”
He scooted even closer to her. “May I?” he asked, resolute in letting her know that though he’d bought her body for a month, her wishes mattered. In fact, he craved to fulfill each one of them.
“Y-yes.”
He touched behind her head, where a fancy pin held her hair together, then released it. Waves of sultry, silky hair fell down her shoulders like she’d stepped out of a shampoo commercial. His body rumbled, images of him taking her from behind and pulling her hair flooded his dirty mind. His cock strained against his slacks, and he mimicked her earlier move and let his hand glide down her neck. He felt her shiver at the contact and sighed.
“Sei bellissima,” he said.
Her breasts rose and fell, her organic response to him cementing his decision. He wasn’t the only one who needed this deal—she needed it just as much. If the contract gave him the go-ahead to indulge in her body without false promises, it probably also made her feel more comfortable with her sexuality, being a pastor’s daughter and all. She knew—he hoped she did—he wouldn’t judge her.
With that in mind, he drew an invisible, circular pattern at the base of her throat, feeling the pulse. She didn’t tear her eyes from him, and her luscious lips parted, asking, no, begging to be kissed.
“Do you like sushi?” he whispered.
She leaned into his touch. “I can’t stand it.”
His heart skipped a beat. “Good. Let’s get out of here.”
…
Lily chewed on her lower lip. From the moment he’d given his hand to her until now, guiding her through the restaurant, her flesh had become überaware of Marco. He must have given someone a sign, as the limo stopped at the curb in front of them the second they hit the sidewalk. A movie scene wouldn’t have had better timing.
When they entered the limo, the same luxury car that had picked her up at home and driven her here, Marco clicked the button to lift the partition.
“Sorry, sir, I meant to tell you there’s something wrong with the button. I’ll take it to the dealership tomorrow,” the driver said, starting the engine.
Marco cursed in Italian under his breath and shot her a look filled with frustration. She chuckled, for she experienced that same crazy urge to get him naked and on top of her—or under her, or sideways.
She rested her hand on his knee, tapping it a couple of times in a silent message of comfort. He placed his hand over hers, and his warmth enveloped her skin. “Does the partition often break?” she murmured.
He smiled. “Never.”
“Maybe it’s a sign,” she said playfully. “To take things slow.”
Marco circled his index finger on her hand, the gentle and unassuming touch hardening her nipples. An unbearable ardor overpowered her, and she didn’t need to touch her cheeks to feel their heat. She couldn’t wait to have his long olive finger touching her intimately. A splash of apprehension blended with excitement. The driver was taking them to Marco’s place.
The contract she signed earlier stipulated he wouldn’t force her to do anything against her wishes. She’d be in his domain, though. What if he completely changed his mind and killed her? God, she really had to quit watching all those Lifetime movies.
“Where’s the bold girl who stripped in my office earlier? The one who promised me a worthy performance?”
She had taken her clothes off because that had been part of a script she’d created. She’d had time, albeit brief, to think about a strategy to get his attention and get her way. And now…now she’d have to deliver the goods.
“Are you having buyer’s remorse?” she asked, in another attempt to keep the mood light.
He lifted up her chin so she had no choice but to look deep into his eyes. “Never.”
She half closed her eyes, tilting her head to the side and hoping he’d kiss her. But he stroked her jaw and stared at her without making any headway. “Why not?” she murmured.
He leaned down until his mouth brushed her earlobe. Tingles multiplied inside her, causing goose bumps to rise on her arms. “Because this is a new driver and I don’t want pictures of me screwing the pastor’s daughter online.”
“Oh,” she said, unable to hide her disappointment. “That’d be bad for your image.”
“I’m more worried about your image.” Definitely. How would she be able to pass as his lovely bride-to-be to his dying grandmother if pictures of her ass leaked all over social media?
Minutes dragged until they were finally driven into the underground garage of a high-rise building in Manhattan. He ushered her into an elevator, and just their luck, a couple of teenagers argued inside about a rock band’s new song. Marco kept her close to him, his hand biting into her skin, and the nearness alone sent little thrills of excitement through her.
The elevator arrived at the top floor with a ping, and when they exited, she realized they were at the foyer of his penthouse. He snatched her to him, kissing her with such wild passion she almost fell back. She linked her arms around him and celebrated inwardly when he scooped her up. She’d appreciate the decor of his place later. Now she preferred to dive headfirst into this naughty ocean of sensations.
The one thing was obvious about his place—the size. By the time he eased her onto the mattress in his bedroom, her breaths came in small gasps. One more second and she’d be completely breathless. He began to undress, flinging his jacket across the floor without much fuss. When he pulled the shirt over his head, she sat. She’d felt his taut muscles, but now she saw them.
Her pussy clenched, the pearly cream filling her snatch. He caught her looking, and when he moved, the well-defined pecs and ridges of his six-pack bunched. Wow. This man… “It’s like John Cena and Bruce Wayne had a son,” she said, then realized she’d shared her nerdy comment out loud.
He grinned. “I’ve never been much of a Batman fan, but I’ll take the compliment.”
“If you’re not a Batman fan, we may need to rethink all this,” she said, circling her index finger.
“Don’t worry, tesoro mio. I’ll take you to Gotham City tonight,” he said, and glided her on the bed until her feet touched the edge. He slid off her underwear, and she inhaled sharply. Within seconds, he disappeared between her legs, and she threw her head back.
This is really happening. She braced herself mentally that he’d second-guess, but nope. She watched him blow on the skin of her thigh, and resolution filled her.
He cupped her pussy, his hot breath causing tingles. Moved by instinct, she squirmed, slightly swaying her thighs, but he hooked his hands under her ass and kept her in place. He licked her clit with the tip of his tongue, and she mewled, a strand of pleasure arrowing up and down her body. Whatever reason had brought them together, she wanted him—wanted this, and the degree to which she responded stunned her.
If he continued this way, she’d visit Gotham City a lot sooner than planned. He licked her folds and buried his head between her thighs. She thrust her hips into his mouth, and without delay he sucked her. A loud moan left her lips. She didn’t mean to sound so dramatic, but there was only so much she could take. He thrust his tongue into her, his nose pressing into her twat.
She bucked, and soon spasms rode through her, and it took her a few seconds to catch her breath. “Holy Batman.”
He licked every drop of her then worked his way up, giving her belly openmouthed kisses. She quivered, so soon, already recognizing that powerful craving fueling up inside her. He chuckled against her breasts, a hearty, manly sound. He knew exactly how much she needed him, and she couldn’t save face. “You taste delicious,” he said. “Wanna try?”
“Yes.” Yes, to everything, a savage part of her shouted.
He dipped down and kissed her, his tongue bringing her own tangy essence to her palate. Tasting herself made her feel as primal as an exotic, foreign dance. She dove her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for the warmth of their skin-to-skin contact. He broke the kiss, tracing down her neck, and she moaned.
“These are huge tits for a pastor’s daughter,” he said, cupping her breast.
“What are you going to do about it?”
He grinned. “I’m going to fuck them.”