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“Oh.” Jealousy speared Eve like a knife.
Brian and Anna, his best piano student, were friends, nothing more. Of course, two days ago, Eve and Brian had been only friends. Anna was blond and lithe—supermodel gorgeous—and a gifted pianist to boot.
His lips curled into a saucy grin. “That bother you?”
Eve’s cheeks warmed. “Of course not.”
“Good, because it’s not like that with Anna and me. I love you, Eve. No one else.”
The warmth in her cheeks turned to flame. She wanted to return his sentiment. Looking at him, basking in his kind affection, she knew she loved him. Could love only him. Could find true happiness with him alone.
Yet if Jon were there she’d be thinking the same thoughts. She’d been down this road before and it always led to the same place. She was perfectly happy and in love with Brian when they were alone. And she was perfectly happy and in love with Jon when they were alone. What the hell was the matter with her?
“Smells good,” she said.
“I know you love Italian. This is from a little place I discovered a few weeks ago. I’ve been meaning to take you there.”
“Why didn’t we go tonight?”
“Because I want to be alone with you tonight, sweetheart.” He finished setting out the food and uncorked a bottle of Chianti Classico. “Bruschetta. Penne arrabiata. Veal piccata. And dark chocolate gelato for dessert. I hope you like it.”
All her favorites. How well he knew her. “It’s lovely, Bri. Thank you.”
Brian poured two glasses of Chianti, handed one to Eve, and clinked his glass to hers. “To tonight.”
She smiled. “To tonight.” The peppery wine warmed her mouth.
As she licked her lips, Brian took her glass from her and set it on the table next to his own. With slow, deliberate care, he cupped her cheek and lowered his lips to hers.
Their mouths melded together in a numbing kiss. A promise of more to come. He nibbled across her upper lip, tongued the corner of her mouth. Brian didn’t tease. He dived in and took. Her blood boiled and she parted her lips. He plunged his tongue inside and wrapped it around hers. Her knees gave out. Strong arms coiled around her, steadied her.
She let out a soft sigh. Her first kiss with Brian. It was so much better than she’d ever imagined. He swept into her mouth and ravaged her as though he were pounding out a concerto on the piano. She’d often wondered whether Brian’s kisses would be piano or forte.
Forte. Oh, so forte.
His full pink lips clamped around her tongue and sucked it deep. Open-mouthed and wet, the kiss was urgent, provocative. When he ripped his mouth from hers and nibbled on her neck, she inhaled a much needed breath.
“How do you think I like to fuck, Eve?” he whispered against her ear. “Do you think I like it slow and gentle?”
She shuddered and shook her head. His kiss had told the tale. “Fast, Bri. You like to fuck hard and fast.”
“Hard and fast, sweetheart. I want to sink my cock into your pussy hard and fast.”
“God.” Eve trembled against Brian’s muscled way too-clothed body. “Our dinner…”
He brushed his lips against her cheek. “Our dinner. I’m going to feed you, baby. And I want you to think about that kiss. And about that hard, fast fuck.” He nipped her earlobe.
An inferno raged in her body. She’d think of nothing else. When he let her go and held out her chair for her, she sat quickly and took a long gulp of her Chianti. The clatter of dinner plates chimed in her ears as Brian fumbled in the kitchen.
In a few minutes, he returned with three dishes. He set a plate of pasta in front of her and a plate of toasted Italian bread and tomato bruschetta between them. He sat down, not across from her, but next to her. She locked her gaze on his musician’s hands as he spread some of the tomato, basil, and garlic mixture atop a slice of bread. She inhaled the fresh fragrance. “Mmm.”
“I know you love your bruschetta, sweetheart.” He held it out to her. “Here. Take a bite.”
The piquant flavors exploded across her tongue. “Jeez, Bri, that’s fantastic.” She licked her lips.
“Good?”
“The best.”
