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“’Sandro,” she said, putting one finger to the corner of his mouth. “Come upstairs with me.”
He turned his head and sucked on her finger, drawing it fully into his mouth. Megan let out a peep of pure lust. Gods, if he didn’t get her upstairs right now, she was going to make the driver roam the streets of Boston all night.
“It is not in the rules,” he said, though he didn’t let go of her finger.
“I think I found a new vice,” she whispered, replacing her finger with her mouth. “Come home with me.”
“Cara.” He let go for two seconds, nodding to the world outside. “They will see. Are you sure?”
“God, yes, Alessandro.” She was still sitting on his lap, and she knew he would go home a very injured man if she gave in to Yasmin’s rules right now. And she would go home a lonely, frustrated, pissed-off woman. So.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
She got off his lap and began to straighten him. Her hair was already beginning to fall out of its braid, but she couldn’t help that. She arranged her skirt back around her ankles. The driver hadn’t even gotten out of the car, but when he heard Alessandro open the door, he opened his. “Don’t worry,” Alessandro said loudly through the closed partition and got out. “I have it.”
He sure did. The cool air hit her burning cheeks. She didn’t care if they burned. She didn’t care who saw. She was inviting the man who made her feel sexy into her bed. And he wanted to go. That was all that mattered.
“You can go home,” she told the driver through the passenger window, which he’d opened. He betrayed his surprise by only a slight contraction of his brows.
“Certainly, madam,” he said. “Have a good night.”
“You too!” she sang, because shit yeah, she was going to have a good night.
Before the car could drive away, she and Alessandro were past the scheduled paparazzi and inside her building, and she was smiling at the night guard.
“Good evening, Ms. Fielding,” the guard said.
She was all done with small talk. “Hi, George. Have a good night!”
The moment the elevator doors closed, she pushed Alessandro against the wall and kissed the bejeezus out of him, just in case he was thinking of changing his mind. Didn’t seem like he was.
She kept an arm around him when they left the elevator and went into her apartment. She turned on a couple of lights but kept things dim so they could see the view from the floor-to-ceiling windows in the corner.
And now they were alone, really alone. And Megan suddenly got shy.
She walked to the windows, keeping her back to him.
“What is it,cara?” he asked behind her.
“I… haven’t done this in a while,” she said to the windows.
“We don’t have to do this at all,” he said softly.
She turned to him. “No. Not that. Just…” She shook her head.
Alessandro took her into his arms with a tenderness she wouldn’t have believed she needed. “It is a conversation,cara,” he said. “A wonderful, joyful conversation. You tell me what you want, and I provide it to you. And if you do not agree with the subject, we change the subject.”
She laughed at the metaphor. “That sounds good.” Which was when Alessandro’s arms around her drew her to the couch that faced the windows. He sat her down and instructed her to put her head in his lap—face up.
“I believe you needed help with your hair,” he said. He began by pulling out a few pins, until her braid lay in his hands. He gently pulled off the hairband that held it together and then slowly, tantalizingly, separated the strands. Once he had her hair freed, he began to stroke it, laying it down against her shoulders and breasts. He didn’t outright touch her breasts, but Megan had to bite her lip not to arch into his delicate touch.
He felt in her strands for more pins, then just massaged her temples. Megan moaned with pleasure, her eyes fluttering closed, helpless. Alessandro’s strong fingers worked their way over her scalp, turning her to mush in his lap.
She couldn’t let him do all the work. “My turn,” she said, pushing his hands away. She stood and pulled him with her into the bathroom. Alessandro cocked one eyebrow when she began to unbutton his shirt to reveal his chest and those shoulders she’d wanted to kiss so badly before.
“You didn’t have to get off the couch for this,” he said, but Megan shook her head.
“I don’t want to get that lovely shirt wet.” Alessandro barked a laugh, and she cocked a hip at him. “Hold still.” She began running water in the sink, testing it with her hand until the temperature was perfect. Then she wet her hands and ran them over his beard, moistening it. The thin channels of water that ran down his neck and onto the hair on his chest—oh shit. Megan paused to take in his chest. Hairy, like his beard. God. She was going to explore that in a minute. But first…
