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“I would have called you, but my phone battery died,” I explain.
It never occurred to me that she’d be concerned. She’s my landlady, not my mother. I guess she feels responsible for me…
Alessio shakes her hand. “No need to worry, Signora. Your tenant is under our protection.” He shows her his official ID.
She flutters her eyelashes at him, clearly impressed.
Marco introduces himself and she coos, “I buy your mineral water all the time.”
Upstairs, I leave Marco and Alessio to admire the view from my roof terrace while I go to my bedroom.
I stand in front of my wardrobe.
What should I wear?
The weather is dry and sunny, but it will be cold out on the open water. I opt for a pair of jeans, a thick sweater and fur-lined boots. I grab my phone charger, shrug on a Parka then return to the living area.
The guys have come downstairs. “Cute apartment.” Marco’s smile is warm.
“You said Zattere wasn’t out of your way the other day,” I remind him.
He spreads his hands apart and grins. “Busted.”
Alessio laughs and reaches for my hand. “Marco took one look at you and decided I had to meet you.”
I glance at the two of them.
Obviously, they love each other to the moon and back.
I’m with Marco and Alessio for fun, sexy times and nothing more.
I’m okay with that.
Okay with allowing myself to live this fantasy.
I can think of no good reason why not.
My hand still being held by Alessio, Marco hugs me tight. “You look beautiful, Sefi.”
It’s only his affectionate nature, I think. But the press of his hot body against mine makes me feel wanted… and not just in a sexual way.
Don’t be stupid, girl. You’ll find out at lunchtime what their intentions are. And anything other than sex will not be part of the script.
The tingle between my legs agrees with me. It travels to my core as I remember how they fingered me only a couple hours ago.
“We’d better get going.” Alessio’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “Can’t wait to show you the islands, bambina. They’re unique.”
And he’s right. The islands are beyond amazing. We sit on the plush seat at the stern of the boat, a blanket over our knees and another around our shoulders to keep us warm. The tang of salt is in my nose, and I soak up the sights like a sponge… the magnificence of Murano, famous for glassmaking, the tranquility of Torcello, sparsely populated and the most ancient of the Venetian settlements, and, finally, the beauty of Burano.
Giorgio moors the boat at the pier. His weather-beaten face breaks into a smile as I leave my phone charger plugged in to the dashboard. Marco, Alessio and I step ashore. We stroll past brightly painted fishermen’s houses and shops selling traditionally made lace products.
“Would you like to buy anything?” Marco asks, catching me looking at a pretty blouse displayed in the window of a store.
“I wanna get a gift for my sister.” I reach into my bag for my purse.
The guys wait outside while I make my purchase, and soon we set off again.
After crossing two canals we stop in front of the blue façade of the restaurant. Evidently, Marco and Alessio are regulars here. The head waiter greets them warmly and shows us to a cozy table in the corner.
“Their risotto is the best in the world,” Alessio enthuses. “The stock is made from fish caught in the Lagoon.”
I’ve never been a fan of risotto, but I’ve never had it like Alessio describes before, so I agree to give the dish a try.
Marco recommends Adriatic scampi for our main course. “Not too filling after the risotto.”
“Are those what we call shrimp?” I tilt my head to one side, remembering eating the garlic doused crustaceans in an Italian restaurant back home.
“The Adriatic variety are different. More like small lobsters. They thrive in the waters near here and are always freshly caught. You’ll love them.”
“I’m sure I will.”
We place our order and sip Prosecco while we wait for our food to be served. An accordion player has arrived and is strolling between the tables playing Ed Sheeran’s Perfect.
And it is perfect. I don’t want to spoil the atmosphere, but I have to ask. “I’m not sure how this is gonna work.” I feel my face heat up. “I mean, what do you want from me?”
Marco fixes me with his smoldering gaze. “Our aim is to bring you to heights of pleasure you never imagined possible.” His deep, melodic voice sends a quiver right through me. “Your enjoyment is paramount.”
I purse my lips. “What’s in it for you?”
Alessio laughs. “You’re almost as candid as Marco.” He pauses, creases his brow. “It’s all about having our cake and eating it, I suppose you could say.” He takes my hand. “We both slog damn hard at our jobs. Having fun with a willing woman is our way of letting off steam. And I stress the word willing. We’d never ask you to do anything you don’t want to.”
