Chapter Nineteen
Alessandra
Quinn wraps his hand around mine as he leads me down the hall to our hotel room. There wouldn’t be privacy in my flat with Flora, so I’m grateful he’s brought me here. Plus, the idea of Quinn and Flora inhabiting the same space honestly makes me want to laugh. They are creatures from very different realities.
Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I can say without a doubt that I prefer this reality. But is this real? I squeeze his hand, checking. A firm squeeze back quashes any doubts I have.
The quiet and contemplative taxi ride gave me plenty of time to overthink this moment, to change my mind and keep the divide between my life in the States and my life here clear. But with the lovely low lighting of this hotel and the smell of fragrant wines wafting through the air, I can’t think of any reason why I should differentiate the two. After all, Quinn is here in Italy with me. For me. Even if it kills me all over again when he leaves, I need tonight. Need to feel whole again, desperately. And I do in his presence.
We take our time locating his room, wandering the halls in a comfortable silence that anticipates a full night of talking and reconnecting. There is no rush, there are no obligations. Once we enter this room, we step into the bubble of our shared bliss. I have no intention of leaving that bubble anytime soon, and by the way he leisurely runs his thumb across the back of my hand, I know he’s on the same page as me.
The door clicks behind us as I take in the room before me. Curtains drape elegantly around a large window, teasing me with the promise of a view. I smile broadly and look at Quinn, knowing that my excitement must be written all over my face. He gives my hand another small squeeze before letting go. I walk to the window and pull the curtains aside. The sight before me is everything I dreamed of when I was back home. It was every magazine and brochure cut-out I tucked away for my dream life, my dream job, in this beautiful city.
A small balcony looks over the warmly lit square on which this little gem is located. People wander the streets, playing instruments, laughing, and chatting. I crack open the window a few inches, and the cool night air tickles my cheeks. I breathe it in, and a sense of calm washes over me like it hasn’t since I arrived in this foreign country. I feel so safe in this hotel room, the world opening up again before me. Here, taking in this amazing view, there are no lousy stipends, no peanut-butter-thieving roommates. There’s just me, this view, and—
Quinn leans against a wall behind me. I turn to him, sensing his distance.
“What are you doing over there?” I ask, curious.
He smiles. “Taking it all in.” He’s clearly staring at me, not the view.
I blush automatically and laugh at the cheesy line. He’s as romantic as ever. That will never get old. I watch as he runs his thumb over the cork of a new bottle of champagne, a silent invitation to drink with him.
“Compliments of the hotel.” He grins, his eyes sparkling. They’re so soft and familiar, like a blanket I want to never, ever fall from my shoulders.
“Come here,” I say, urgently reaching for his free hand. “And bring that with you.” I eye the champagne with a smirk.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says with mock seriousness.
I love that he plays these games with me. God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed him. It’s only been two weeks since I last saw him, but it could have been lifetimes, I’ve missed him so much.
My heart swells as Quinn’s hand finds mine, closing the distance between us. I pull him to me, wanting to occupy the same space as him. His eyes are darker now, glittering in the evening glow of the square. I want to kiss him. I run my thumb across his knuckles, lifting my other hand to his perfectly carved jawline. Just one little kiss—
“Shall we take a moment first?” He stops me, catching my fingers against his lips with a gentle kiss. Sensing my reaction, he says, “I only think that if you kiss me, I may not be able to stop. I’d like to hear about your life here first. You need your mouth for speaking. You see my conundrum?”
“I do.” I nod my head. “And I would agree, but I have yet to give you a proper welcome to Italy.” I smile, pulling him back in for that exquisite taste before he can resist me any longer.
My lips press against him with a relief that I can’t describe. He sighs against them. I know he feels it, too, the way his mouth melts into mine. I hear the soft thump of the champagne bottle as he tosses it on the bed.
Now both of his hands are free. They immediately find the contours of my cheeks, holding my face to his as if I’m a precious treasure. The breeze from the open window wraps around us in a cool embrace, inviting us to move even closer as we yearn for the refuge of each other’s arms. The feeling is sublime.
We break apart, forehead resting against forehead, soul against soul.
“There. Do you feel welcomed?” I ask, looking up at him through my lashes.
He runs his thumb across my lower lip. “I’m fairly new to the area. I may need more reacquainting.”
Quinn captures my mouth in another kiss, this time demanding my lips to part beneath his. His tongue flicks forward to meet mine in a hungry search. It’s obvious that we both have two weeks of pent-up longing, two weeks of missing this, and put every emotion, every moment of desire for the other, into this kiss. His breath is hot on my mouth, and I moan into the kiss. I dig my fingers into his firm shoulders, pulling myself as close to him as I can manage.
“God, Alessandra,” he says softly against the corner of my mouth, giving me a moment to catch my breath. He kisses a trail down the side of my neck, dipping me back for more leverage. I let him hold me up, knowing that even if I were to fall completely limp to his need, he wouldn’t let me go. He’d catch me and keep me, protect me from everything outside of this bubble we’ve surrounded ourselves with.
I breathe the scent of his hair in as he kisses down my sternum. This is real, isn’t it? Quinn is really here, in Italy, showering me with the most adoring kisses. I have an exquisite view from the window before us, but it doesn’t compare to the sensations of smell, touch, and taste I have with this man in my arms. Nothing can compare.
Quinn is on his knees before me, gently kissing down my body. I’m drunk with want, raking my hands through his thick hair and down his back. He runs his hands across every surface of me. From my arms to my back, my waist to my thighs. I lower myself to my knees, drawing his face to meet mine for another needy kiss. Together, we unbutton each other’s clothes. . .my fingers deftly undoing his pants, and his gently pulling down the zipper of my dress.
I unbuckle his pants while sucking on his lower lip, drawing it between my teeth. He moans from deep in his throat, his desire for me evident by the firm, hard cock now throbbing in my hand. His hands reach deftly up under my dress, finding the silken edge of my panties and pulling them down.
We shed the rest of our clothes and fall onto the bed.
Quinn’s hands run up and down my body, one to my breast, worshipping the nipple, massaging the fullness of it. I take over, my want outweighing any premise of taking our time, and climb on top of him, positioning him at my entrance. His eyes meet mine as I slowly sink down.
Two weeks of my body missing him means I have to stretch for his girth, but I do so with eager thrusts.
Staring deeply into each other’s eyes, I can tell neither of us is going to last. It’s been too long since we’ve felt each other. It’s too powerful. This moment. Me, him, here. Too good.
Quinn pushes himself up easily into a sitting position as I continue to ride him, my legs now wrapped intimately around his waist. With one firm arm, he draws one of my legs up slightly, changing the angle so he can thrust even deeper than I thought possible. I gasp, my heel now digging into the center of his back, my toes curling.
He pulls aside my long, dark hair and presses his mouth against my ear. “Ti amo, Alessandra. Ti amo.” I love you.
My orgasm hits me like an explosion of warm light, starting low and rippling through my every molecule with electric energy. He thrusts through the waves of it, moaning with every contraction. With a final, needy kiss, Quinn follows me, his own climax washing over him.
• • •
“So that has been my living nightmare,” I say, finishing the story of my latest run-in with Flora’s very public sex life.
Quinn takes a moment to digest the image I’ve painted for him. He shakes his head, taking a gulp of his champagne. “I’m sorry it hasn’t been everything you’d dreamed.” He sighs, eyeing his empty glass.
I feel light from the champagne. Or maybe it’s having him by my side. I’m not sure.
We haven’t bothered to dress, aside from a pair of boxer shorts for him and a tank top and panties for me. We ordered room service—more wine, and some cheese, bread, and pasta.
After answering the door in the hotel robes, we’re now comfortable again on the bed.
I laugh at Quinn’s enthusiasm to uncork the bottle of red wine. With his hair mussed and his cheeks lightly flushed in the soft light of the rising sun, he looks younger than ever.
He pours me a little wine before tasting his own. The way his lips curl around his glass in a smirk makes me want to fuck him all over again.
Instead, I indulge another way by taking a hearty bite of delicious penne, soaked in olive oil and herbs. He plants a kiss on my forehead before standing and walking over to his bag. He takes out a pair of pants and begins to put them on.
“Um, please don’t tell me you’re going somewhere,” I say, disbelieving.
He seems genuinely appalled by the idea. “Where in God’s name would I go?”
“Then why do you need pants?”
He pauses his belt buckling with a thoughtful frown. “Point taken.”
Quinn whips off his belt and takes off his pants again, throwing them into our little nest. I throw back my head and laugh—really, truly laugh. Our bodies find each other again, nestling close.
“It’s almost dawn,” I say, looking out the window, drawing the blanket closer around us. “Did I really talk all night?”
“I’ve talked as much as listened,” he reminds me.
“Yes. I’m glad you’ve made so many strides in finding your brother. That’s truly incredible. I’m so excited for you,” I murmur, feeling the emotion percolate in the moisture of my eyes.
“Are you crying?” He chuckles and plants a kiss on my temple. “It’s all thanks to you I even looked for him.”
“Oh, stop. Ti amo.” The words leap out of me in a happy sigh. I don’t try to stop them. Why would I? We both know it’s true.
“Ti amo,” he whispers in my ear. I love you.
A colossal tear falls from my cheek. “God, I’m sorry. I’m crying all over y—”
As I look for where the unruly tear must have landed, my words halt in my throat. There, in his hand, rests a ring. A simple golden band shining in the low light.
“Alessandra,” he says, lifting my chin with his other hand. His eyes search mine. “Marry me.”
Marry him?
Quinn Kingsley wants to marry me.
“We can stay here,” he says. “I have the means to provide for a life for you here and in the States. We’ll have two homes. I’d do anything to build a home with you. What do you say?”
For the first time since meeting this man, through every bilingual conversation, every cute quip, every whispered sweet nothing—I have no words. All I can do is nod yes, yes, yes, choking back tears.
“Is that a—”
I cut him off with a crushing kiss. He sighs against my lips, drawing me close against his perfect warmth.
Yes, Quinn Kingsley.. A thousand times, yes.