Words of Lust (4 page)

“Is Cara older or younger than you?”

“I’m the oldest. All my siblings are younger, but some are more mature than others.” He had to grin. “My brothers can be real assholes, and Cara is the serious one. Gia? Well, she’s the unique one.”

“How many siblings are there?”

“Me, then Vincenzo, Alberto, Cara and Gia. For an Italian family it’s on a par with having one kid. You should hear all the old ladies talk about what a slacker my mom is.”

“Sounds like a huge family to me.” She wondered what it would be like to have a big family. Siblings to lean on in tough times, to share the good ones, the love and laughter at holiday dinners.

“How about you? Do you have a big family?”

“No. It was just me, Mom and Dad. They were both only kids too, so there aren’t even any cousins or aunts and uncles. Dad was a lot older than my mother and I was a late-in-life baby, so no siblings.”

He looked surprised. “The old ladies won’t believe you’re Italian!”

“Well, only half. Dad was, but Mom always called herself a Manhattan mongrel—she was English, Scottish, Welsh and a smidge of German. I guess they’ll faint dead away.” She tried to hide the sadness she always felt when questioned about her family.

“My father was in already his fifties when he met my mother, who was only thirty-five. But they were both so brilliant. Everything excited them. Books, music, art, food. Mom always said her friends thought she was crazy for marrying an old Italian professor. She called Dad the old man, but it was always with love. They were made for each other and it was like no one else existed.” Even her, she’d thought on occasion.

“You sound sad.”

She nodded. “I still miss them. Dad suffered an aneurysm and died at sixty-five, right in his classroom with his students, teaching. Which is exactly what he would have wanted. Mom died a few days after I graduated from college. She’d had a series of strokes by then, so it wasn’t a surprise. And I think she missed Dad every day.”

“I’m sorry, Professor.”

She smiled wanly. His nickname sounded warm and affectionate, but the discussion was too maudlin for a first date. Fortunately the conversation shifted as he turned off the thruway onto an exit and shortly afterward drove into a small, quaint town.

“What a lovely little town. I feel as if I’ve stepped back in time.”

“Cozy, isn’t it?” He grinned at her and she enjoyed the sense of closeness. Strange to feel so relaxed after such a short acquaintance but everything was just so easy with him. Natural. Despite the sexual awareness buzzing beneath the easy camaraderie.

In moments she could smell the scent of the Hudson river. Greenery and the rushing water filled the air with a rich scent and she relaxed, breathing deeply. She rarely got out of the city, though she loved excursions. Just the calm of being away from the frenzy, immersed in nature up north or at her parents’ Long Island beach house, relaxed her.

“Here we are.” He deftly parked in the small lot of a rustic restaurant. There was no sign, just warm lights glowing in the windows that chased away the twilight. But now the air was filled with the aroma of garlic, onions, herbs and tomatoes and it was more than enough to draw her in.

“Smells incredible.”

“I’m going to see to it you try a little of everything.” He had helped her out of the truck, clasping her waist with those big hands of his. Once she was steady on her feet at his side, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. Heat flooded through her and her breath caught. Too much, too soon. She needed a distraction.

“Not everything, please. I know it’s picky and silly, but I don’t do anything slimy. No calamari, no scungilli. No raw oysters or steamed clams. No mussels either.”

“Boy, and calamari’s my mom’s favorite. Anything else? You do eat meatballs, right?”

“Absolutely. And pasta, chicken parmesan and cannelloni make me very happy.”

“I hope that’s not the only thing that makes you happy,” he whispered, his lips close enough to her ear to touch. The moist heat of his breath tingled deliciously. She stumbled and he held her up.

“Come on, Professor. Let’s get inside. I promise, no slimy stuff.” He smacked his hand to his forehead in mock despair.

“Trust me. I won’t make you eat my mother’s favorite dish if you don’t make me eat calamari.”

“What was your mother’s favorite dish?”

“Spotted dick.”

* * *

They were back to dick again. He was never going to get his wayward organ under control if she didn’t stop reminding him. Of course it might be a state he’d have to learn to live with, because everything about her kept him pointing north.

“What is spotted dick, for God’s sake, and why would anyone call it that? It sounds like a venereal disease.”

She burst out laughing and the earlier sadness clinging to her vanished. He relaxed at the sound of her joy and tucked her under his arm. And it was another good sign that she let him.

“It’s actually just a British pudding. The spots are currants or raisins.”

He ushered her into the restaurant but grunted. “Stupid name for pudding, if you ask me.”

“That’s the way I feel about sweetbreads. And Rocky Mountain oysters.”

Not again. Testicles. For cripes’ sake.

“Mr. Stellato!
Buona sera
.” The elderly woman who greeted him was the matriarch of the restaurant and she’d been the manning the door since the first day he’d discovered the place. She hugged him enthusiastically.

“
Buona sera
,
Mamma Mortillaro.
Come stai?
”

“
Sto facendo bene
,
grazie.
” Then she turned to Serafina, who was clearly puzzled by the exchange in Italian. “Never mind me. Who’s this lovely lady you’ve brought to eat Papa’s good food? About time you had a date.” She poked him with the menus and smiled at Serafina. “This boy never brings a lady with him before. You must be a special one.”

He blushed furiously and he noticed Serafina was bright pink as well. But she raised an eyebrow at him and smiled, so it was all good.

“This is Serafina Luca, Mamma M. She’s a teacher at a college in New York City.” He looked down at her and smiled. She took the woman’s hand with a warm grin.

“
Bella donna!
” Mamma beamed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Italian.”

He and Mamma M. both looked at her in surprise, but the hostess arrived and took them to their table, so he let it drop. Maybe he could teach her some Italian. Though of course what he was thinking at the moment was he’d like to teach her some French.

“Enjoy your supper, Niccolo, Serafina!” Mamma hollered after them and he winced at the use of his given name.

“I don’t know why everyone expects I should speak Italian. I’ve never even been to Italy. I’m surprised you do.”

“Professor, I may be fourth generation, but in my family those same old ladies would beat you with their canes if you can’t speak Italian.” He squeezed her closer to him. “Let me know if you want me to teach you.” It was kind of nice there was something he could do well that she couldn’t. Not that he was keeping track, but hey, a guy had to have some advantages.

“You’re fluent?”

“
Certamente.
” He pulled out her chair for her and sat down. “But I won’t mention to my mom you can’t speak Italian. She might faint.”

He ignored her look of puzzlement and smiled at the waitress.

“I’ll let you have a few minutes to look at the menu, but may I get you something to drink?”

“Let’s have two glasses of the Chianti.” He checked with Serafina and she nodded. He’d have to keep the wine to a minimum since he’d be driving them back, but he could safely enjoy sharing a glass or two with her. He wanted the night to last.

They’d been seated in a romantic alcove with a large window and a terrific view of the river. The moon was bright enough that it shone down, illuminating the rushing water and the towering trees surrounding the restaurant. In the silvery light she was a knockout.

“Come here.” He stood, took her hand and swept her through the nearby double glass doors, ignoring her squeak of protest. Under cover of the overhang, he pointed out the path that wandered around the exterior of the restaurant, and then meandered down to the river. “The next time we come here, we’ll have to come when it’s light so we can take the river walk path.”

“The next time?” Her voice was hesitant. For such a beautiful girl she was pretty insecure. He leaned down and kissed her. She kissed him back. It grew and he pulled her into his arms, deepening the kiss, and loving the feeling of her body flush against his. Then her tongue touched his.

Shazam. He’d known it would be great.

He was in no hurry. He kissed her thoroughly and slowly upped the ante. He explored her with his hands, loving the feel of her as he stroked over the soft flesh of her. His cock ached and he couldn’t resist. He pressed against her, between her legs, and rubbed until she gave a sexy little whimper. She’d finally reached her hands up to cling to him and pressed the full length of her sweet, hot body against him. But when he slid one hand up, eager to feel her breast, she pulled away. She was breathing heavy—good, but shaking her head—bad.

* * *

He pulled back and leaned to her ear and whispered, “Am I going too fast for you?”

Hesitant to spoil the moment, she nodded briefly.

“You want me to work for it, don’t you, Professor?” His grin was pure devilish enjoyment. She felt her nerves unwind a bit. “No worries. I’ll just have to make sure you know what’s in store. How about I tell you all the things I’d be doing to you if this weren’t our first date? If you’d let down all those walls and were ready for me to make you crazy?”

His whisper was as intoxicating as his kiss and she nodded. The heated promise of his teasing was like foreplay itself, conjuring images that made her yearn and lust.

“We’ll be kissing a lot. I can’t get enough of your lips. And I’ll have you up close, feeling everything I want to give you. Knowing how hard and hot you make me. Then I’ll touch you. Only when you’re ready, but you’ll be so ready. Ready to have me inside you, feeling your tight heat. And I won’t just be kissing those lips of yours. I want to taste you. All of you.” He dropped a soft kiss on her lips. “Head to toe. And everything in between.”

He had his arms wrapped around her and smiled as he swayed them back and forth, slowly grinding his hips. She could practically feel her tissues swelling, growing wet and slick and yearning to experience the cock he was teasing her with. To have him do everything he promised. Then he kissed her.

He’d caught her completely unaware. She should have resisted. Protested. Pushed him away.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she reveled in his kisses with burgeoning hunger and absolute abandonment.

His lips were firm and salty. His hands were possessive on her shoulders and she could feel the strength in his body when he pulled her closer. The kiss lingered. The taste of him, his tongue, bold and tangy, swept into her mouth, intimate and invasive in a wonderful way. His fingers clenched her flesh, squeezing it. She loved the sensation of her breasts rubbing against his chest, and the rough fabric of his pants as he pressed between her thighs. She was left with an urgent throbbing between her legs and moisture dampening her panties as her flesh blossomed beneath his touch.

This was a pure, primal passion and she’d never felt it with any other man. She would willingly drown in it.

Then he was gone.

She blinked and looked up at a self-satisfied grin.

“So, Professor. Do I get an A?”

For a beat she paused. Then she took a breath and whispered back.

“A plus. Definitely.”

“Good. Now we can have dinner without all that expectant tension.”

“Tension?”

“You know—wondering if we would be good together.”

“I see.” She licked her now sensitive lips. “Anticipation?”

“Damn straight, Professor. I’ve been hard for you since Monday when you twitched that fine ass and pouted at me. Now, let’s eat.” And he pulled her back into the restaurant.

The waitress was waiting at their table with great patience and a smirk. Serafina let him order for her, both because he said he’d had everything on the menu, but also because she was completely unable to focus. Good? Kissing him had been earth-shattering. All she could think about was getting back in his arms as soon as humanly possible, hoping he wanted to do wicked things to her, preferably with his impressive cock. The feel of his body, the taste of his kiss, his strength. If she’d been the swooning type, she’d be swooning for all she was worth. Her fingers still tingled from the feel of his flesh beneath her hands, and her body came alive in a way it never had before.

She took a breath. Smiled. Had a sip of Chianti and used the time while he went through their order to try to regain some balance.

After the kiss, it was as if nothing happened. He chatted about work and his family. He asked her questions about her classes, about Gia, and quizzed her on how she liked just about every bite she was eating. If he noticed her distraction, he didn’t comment. He made her laugh with stories of his own college anecdotes and eventually, with some wine and a wonderful meal, she got herself under control again and was able to actually participate.

“Sounds as if you had a stellar academic career. Why choose construction over architecture? Don’t get me wrong. I can certainly see the allure of not being cooped up in an office.”

They’d reached the dessert stage and he was spooning up his tiramisu. “That was actually part of it. I chose architecture as a major because I’ve always wanted to build stuff. I’ll show you the tree house I built when I was fourteen that’s still in the big oak behind our house. But after I graduated and got my first job, I discovered I loved the doing of it more than the planning of it and I didn’t want to spend my life in a shirt and tie dragging blueprints to clients who didn’t get my vision.”

She was off balance. He’d made several comments about her meeting his parents and seeing his old tree house. Did he want to take this further than just an apology dinner? The blossoming of hunger inside her had nothing to do with creamy desserts. Instead, the thought she could have more opportunities to feast on Nick Stellato outweighed her nerves.