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“You have to admit that was a shitshow,” she says with a little smile, and I throw my head back and laugh.
After calling a different car company to pick us up, I’m ready to get Lake somewhere quiet. I don’t want anyone knowing the safehouse location, so I tell our driver to drop us off in town. Then we “borrow” a car with my RF device and, after I quickly disable its GPS, I drive us to the small house at the base of the Italian Alps. Along the way, I call the office and assure a worried Fallon that we’re fine. She reminds me to stay alert and I tell her that I’ll check in tomorrow after we land in Russia. Then I ask Ryan to look into it. I want to know who owns that company, how a killer got behind the wheel and if Caruso paid him off.
Milan is predominantly flat but it’s surrounded by mountains and the view where we are now is stunning. I get out of the car, breathe the fresh air in deeply, and thank God that we’re both still alive. My intention was for us to rest up and de-escalate after that wild limo ride from hell, but now that I’m looking over at Lake, her brown eyes wide and admiring the gorgeous scenery, I’m starting to have other plans.
“C’mon,” I say and lead her up to the little chalet. It’s one level except for the loft where the bed is, and completely tucked away.Beyond cozy,I realize, as we step inside. Like it belongs in a fairy tale. We lost our luggage and it hits me that Lake’s souvenirs are all gone. Again. I’m going to have to fix that for her at some point but, right now, I tell her to sit so I can clean up the cut on her head. There’s a First Aid kit under the sink and I pull it out.
“It’s not bad,” I tell her, cleaning the dried blood away and examining the small gash. After applying some hydrogen peroxide, I place a small bandage over it. When her stomach growls, I grin. “Hungry?” I ask.
“Famished,” she says.
There’s a little kitchen, completely stocked, and we begin looking through the cupboards. When I spot a jar of Nutella, I almost groan. I rarely let myself eat it, but I think almost dying warrants a treat. Twisting the cap off, I grab a spoon and sink it into the soft hazelnut spread. As I suck the spoon clean, Lake tilts her head.
“Good?” she asks, an amused look on her face.
I arch a brow. “You’ve never had Nutella?”
“What is it?” she asks, stepping closer. “Is it like peanut butter?”
“No. It’s a hazelnut cocoa spread and was born right here in Italy. No Star Wars, no Nutella…You’ve been deprived for far too long and we need to remedy that.” I scoop some more onto the spoon and offer it to her. Lake opens her mouth and I feed it to her, trying to ignore the growing heaviness in my boxer briefs. Before leaving the hotel, I went down to the little store where they sold anything and everything, and I bought a box of condoms. Just in case. Luckily, I ditched the box and stored the strip in one of the pockets in my cargo pants.
At the time, it kind of seemed like a necessity to keep close. Like my Glock and tactical knife. Right now, I’m congratulating myself for that decision.
“Mmm,” she moans and licks her lips. “That’s delicious.”
Gritting my teeth, I set the jar and spoon down with a thunk then yank her into my arms. My mouth crashes down against hers and I plunge my tongue past her parted lips, savoring her sugary taste. A delicious mix of Lake and Nutella.Fuck.My dick thickens and grows, determined to find its way back into her sweet body.
Lake has me feeling all sorts of things I’ve never felt before. Sure, lust is a big one, but it’s so much more than that. When I almost lost her today, two things became crystal clear: one, I’m falling hard for my little redheaded teacher, and two, I’m not letting her go once we return home.
Blakely Sullivan is mine.All mine.
I have no idea what she’s feeling, but her arms are wound around my neck, fingers scratching through my hair, and she’s kissing me like there’s no tomorrow. I dip my hands beneath her shirt, savoring the warmth of her soft skin, proof that she’s alive and well. Then I lift her shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it aside. She’s wearing a sexy black bra that I admire for a moment then quickly unsnap and get rid of. Because it’s in my way and all I want to do is lavish her bare breasts with kisses. I shed her leggings fast, too.
Grasping her hips, I lift her up onto the island and step between her legs. I lower my head and pull a rosy nipple into my mouth, sucking and licking. Lake arches her body, offering me better access, and I worship one fleshy mound then the other.
Reaching over, I blindly grasp the jar of Nutella, dip my fingers inside and scoop some out. Reluctantly pulling back from Lake, I lift my hand and trail the hazelnut spread around her collarbone, then slowly down the valley between her breasts. Her chest begins rising harder and faster and I circle the spread around one nipple then other and down and around her belly button.
“Anyone ever eat Nutella off you before, Red?” I ask huskily.
“No,” she whispers, releasing a shaky breath.
“Good,” I growl, grab her thighs and pull her closer. “I like being your first.” I latch onto her nipple, sucking the Nutella off and then leisurely make my way around her body, licking up the rest of it.
“Dash,” she murmurs, leaning back, offering herself to me just like I love.
“What do you want?” I ask, teeth clamping onto the edge of her silk panties, ready to tug them down.
“I want to do the same to you,” she says softly, reaching for the jar.
I glance up in surprise then release her panties. I whip my shirt off faster than I’ve ever done before and she begins smearing Nutella down my chest, around my flat nipples and in the grooves of my abs.
Fuck.Whoever thought covering ourselves in hazelnut spread would be this much fun? And erotic as hell. I return the favor, slathering more onto her and when she begins licking it off me, I suck in a sharp breath. My pants are too damn tight and she must notice because she undoes the button then drags my zipper down. They drop to the floor and I swallow hard as she drags her sticky fingers down, lightly trailing them over my dick, caressing and squeezing me through my boxer briefs.
“Fuck, Red,” I groan, thrusting into her palm. “Keep doing that and I’m going to blow.”
“Do you have protection?” she asks, voice scratchy with need.
I nod and next thing I know, my sweet little preschool teacher is shoving my shorts down and grasping my heavy, aching dick in her hands. She’s looking down at my massive erection, forehead scrunched, and I’m doing my damndest not to lose control as I try to be patient and wait to see what she has planned.
