All Wrapped Up (7 page)

Luca looked surprised when he opened the door. He kissed my cheek and ushered me inside. I loved that he was so courteous. The kiss on the cheek had an old-fashioned flair and it made me feel very romantic.

“Mari, you never need to knock. You belong here.” He wore a pair of soft denim jeans that were so worn there was a hole in the left knee and he had an apron tied on to protect his tight white T-shirt. He was barefoot, which struck me as endearing, and he held a wooden spoon covered with red sauce.

I shrugged and slipped off my jacket. “Next time.”

Luca took my jacket and draped it over a chair, then led me by the hand into the kitchen. He stirred a stock pot and scooped out a small bit for me to taste. He held the spoon to my lips and blew gently to cool the sauce. “Taste.”

Just like every other area of his life, Luca was fearless about cooking. That I was a professional caterer never stopped him from seeking my opinion. He was both confident in his abilities and willing to listen to advice. It was a sexy combination.

I licked the edge of the spoon tentatively, testing the temperature. “Chili.” The western flavor was unexpected. Red sauce in my family equaled enchiladas. I slipped the spoon into my mouth and ate what he offered. The flavor was rich with layered texture. Chiles and onions spiced with cumin and paprika.

“It's very good,” I said appreciatively.

He smiled and pulled me into a hug. “Let's dance.”

“Here?”

He dropped the spoon into the sink as he led me into the living room. He pushed a button on his iPod dock and a moment later Rihanna's “Skin” filled the air. It was a slow, sultry song better suited for sex than dancing. Luca circled me, dragging his hand around my body, low across my hips. The fabric of my dress gathered and fell away as he suddenly grabbed my hand and spun me into his arms. I loved to dance with Luca, but the constant pressure of the plug inside me made it hard to enjoy the sudden movement.

“Here.” Luca eased his leg between mine. Like all good Latino boys, he had learned to salsa, along with all the other Latin rhythm dances. He pulled me tight against him, pressing our bodies together at the hips, but loose with room to move at the shoulders. The sharp pressure from the combination of plug and being spun receded until it barely registered as a low, throbbing ache. My body liked this movement much better.

These were the moments, when Luca guided me effortlessly and pulled me low until my clit rubbed dangerously against his thigh, that my world narrowed to a pinpoint of light that showcased only Luca. And as he dipped me back until my hair swept the floor and his breath was hot against my stomach and as he leaned into position over me, he came into sharp focus and the rest of life, all my insecurities and questions, just fell away. Any doubt I had about him, about us, gave way to simple clarity, to absolute knowledge that he was
it
for me. My future was entwined with his as completely as our bodies were in that moment.

We danced through the song and then the next, Luca leading me higher and higher. I've heard people say that dancing is not a big deal, that it doesn't mean anything to dance like we were, but I call bullshit on that. Any woman who has been truly touched by a man emotionally and physically the way Luca was touching me would never dismiss it as only a dance. To hold a woman like that was a clear expression of love.

At the end of the second song, Luca held me tight against him, our chests heaving. His breath hit my skin in hot, panting bursts and ignited a fire deep inside. I stared into his eyes wondering what life with Luca would truly be like. Every night couldn't be as passionate and engulfing as this one. I told myself that, but so far, every night had proven to be just that. Luca had awoken a part of me that had been long dormant, a part of me that, prior to him, had been so deeply hidden I wasn't even aware I had it.

Luca kissed me then, softly, reverently, and with so much tenderness it broke down my resistance. If he could lay himself bare like that, then I should, and could, be brave enough to acknowledge my feelings for him.

“Before we go any further tonight--” Luca said before he swallowed heavily. He was gearing up to make a heartfelt speech. “There are a few things I need to say to you. First, it's not right for a man to tell his girlfriend's mom that he loves her before he tells his girlfriend. And it's even worse when he follows up with a text message as confirmation. I'm sorry for that. Mari, plainly and for the record, I love you. I love you so much that I smell your perfume when you're not with me. I hear your laugh when I'm alone. I picture your face and it makes me forget everything I'm doing. I love you completely and thoroughly. And I know with absolute certainty that I will love you for the rest of my life.”

That was another thing I loved about him. He never half-assed anything. Emotion choked in my throat and all I could do was smile and nod. Tears threatened to fall and I was helpless to stop it.

“You don't have to say it back. I know you love me. And I know you'll say it when you're ready. I've pushed for us to live together, but that's only because I can't wait to start the rest of my life with you. I don't want to be yours on weekends. I want to be a part of your life every day, starting now. I understand that you're not there yet, and I'm trying to be patient, but it’s very hard. I'm the type of man who grabs hold with both hands when I find what want. I want you, Mari. I want you so much I can barely think.”

I wanted to say “I love you” back to him. The words were there, formed in my heart, but I just couldn't get them out. My throat was locked so tight that I couldn’t say anything. I just stood there nodding and smiling like an idiot.

Luca pulled me into a hug. “I know, baby. I know.”

Did he? Did he know how scared I was of all of this? Getting divorced was hard, but it didn't destroy me. I was mostly embarrassed to admit to failure. Luca was different. I was in so deep that it would devastate me to lose him. What would happen when I said it, when I gave all that emotion a name and admitted to how I felt? Just the thought of losing him crippled me. I wouldn't be able to cope with the reality. And there was one thing I was absolutely certain about: people change, emotions change. He loved me now, I believed that. But that didn't mean he would love me ten years from now. There was no way for him to promise the future. It was undeliverable.

“We should eat.” Luca stepped back to a respectful distance. “Can you sit?”

The plug had been in so long at that point I'd almost forgotten about it. My ass no longer panged when I moved wrong or shifted in just the wrong way in my chair. It wasn't comfortable, not by a long shot, but I no longer had an internal voice screaming
Out! Out! Out! Get it out now!

“I can.”

Luca held out my chair and I settled into place to watch as he gathered the pieces of the meal and readied them to serve.

“Wine?” Luca held up a bottle of Syrah that I'd tried once before while out to dinner with him. It was quite good. I loved that he remembered even though he'd preferred his beer over my wine.

“Not tonight.” For the first time in weeks, I wanted a clear head. After Luca’s declaration of love, it would have been cowardly for me to dive into yet another bottle of wine.

“Very well, I'll drink water with you.” Luca returned the wine to the rack and his beer to the fridge. He dished the chili and set our servings, along with a loaf of heated and sliced French bread on the table. He also served a crisp green salad with feta and bacon crumble.

“What do you think?” Rather than sitting across the table, he sat in the seat closest to me. He moved his chair even closer and rested his hand on my knee. My dress slid to the side allowing skin to skin contact. He ran his thumb back and forth absently as he waited for my assessment of the meal. It was an eclectic mix that blended well.

“It's beautiful, Luca. Thank you.” I leaned in and gave him a small kiss. He'd even filled a bud vase with a single rose. Yes, it was a totally cliché move, but it still made an impact. His attention to detail was romantic and sweet. “I love it.”

“Good.” Satisfied with my approval, he started on his salad.

We ate and chatted about all the things that seem unimportant but work together to weave the fabric of a relationship. He told me about the new software they were piloting in his office and how it was frustrating and exciting. I shared Rachel's newfound lesbianism and her scheduled date for the next night.

“It's no surprise, really.” Luca laughed. “You're pretty amazing with that mouth.” His eyes darkened as he stared pointedly at my lips. I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth as a matter of nervous reflex and Luca moaned. “You need to not do that again if you want to finish this meal.”

I didn't really care about the meal, but knew I'd regret it later if we skipped it in favor of other activities.

“Sorry.” Under Luca's intense scrutiny, I was barely able to whisper my apology.

Luca growled softly and his grip on my thigh tightened. “Eat.” He scooped a bite of chili and held it to my mouth. “You're going to need it.”

I shook my head to clear it and grasped at a subject change. “Did your grandma teach you to make chili, too?” Everything that Luca knew how to cook was the product of his grandmother's tutelage, I’d learned. The chili would be no different, I was sure. And, bringing his grandma into a conversation tended to cool down his sexual impulses.

His eyes lost their intensity and he eased back into his own space a bit. He shook his head with a smile and said, “No, I taught her.”

“What?”

“I dated a girl from Tennessee my freshman year of college. She invited me home with her for spring break, so I went. I was a college man, and as a college man, I didn't need to go home to see my grandma over spring break. Not when I could spend it with my hot girlfriend and her family.” Luca's smile softened with the memory. “My priorities were a little upside down.

“Her daddy took a special interest in me. Taught me a lot of things over that seven-day trip. How to clean and shoot a shotgun, how to saddle a horse, how to get up and brush my seat off when I fell off of the horse I'd saddled. And he taught me how to make chili.”

“Did you get to spend any time at all with your girlfriend?”

“In retrospect I realize that his goal was to keep us apart, but I didn't know that at the time. I'd never had a father. His attention was important to me. It also made me miss my grandma even more. He tried to teach me lessons, like real men don't cry when they fall down, but they do if their lady falls. Or real men love their family. Stuff like that. I suppose he was trying to teach me how to be a good husband.”

“I'll be sure to send him a thank you card.” My face flushed with heat as soon as the words were out. I had no idea where they came from. I was resistant to sharing an address and the thought of sharing a last name gave me palpitations. I gulped down a drink of water and prayed Luca would let it pass.

He did. “I brought some of his lessons, like making chili, home to my grandma. After that, I spent spring breaks here with her.”

“Why in the world did that girl’s father even know how to make chili?” It was such a random thing. One in a long list that melted together to make Luca the man he was.

“He was a cook-off champion. This here is blue-ribbon chili.” His voice took on a bit of Tennessee twang with the last sentence. I preferred Luca's normal deep, sexy voice, but it wasn't a bad imitation. I giggled.

When we finished, Luca cleared the table and set the dishes in the sink. Thankfully, he didn't insist on doing them right then. I would surely have lost it if he'd prioritized household chores over orgasms.

With the distraction of dinner over, the plug in my ass gave me a sharp reminder that it was still there. I grimaced and shifted. Luca smiled deviously.

“I think it's time we took care of that, don't you?”

By the look on his face, I was prepared to be thrown over the dining room table and taken right then and there. Instead he led me to the bedroom, peeling off my clothing with each step.

Chapter 7

Luca and I had experimented with a lot of things. When we’d initially met, we'd created a list of acts that were typically considered taboo and we were working steadily through that list. So far, I'd enjoyed what we’d done. Luca was absolutely unflappable and embraced the untraditional, at least when it came to sex. We were perfectly matched in that regard.

But I'd never felt as vulnerable as I did in that moment, face down, ass up, cheeks spread wide so Luca could
see
the plug I'd had in me all day. He pushed a finger against it and I felt it deep inside. What had been mildly to moderately annoying all day long was suddenly sexy. All it took was the addition of Luca and my body responded. He traced the outside edge where silicone met flesh with his finger and I shuddered and moaned.

“You like that?”

I kept my head down, my face muffled in the blankets as he'd directed, so I wasn't sure he heard me when I breathed out a yes.

Luca's hand slapped sharp and fast against my ass cheek, the sting bringing me to immediate awareness. I tensed and felt myself grow even more wet.

“Answer me.”

He hadn't heard, and arguing that I'd already answered would make things worse, so I tilted my head to the side and said as clearly as I could manage, “Yes.” The word still came out stilted and breathy. I waited, muscles tight, and hoped it was enough.

“Good girl.” Luca smoothed his palm against my heated flesh. “I like it, too.”

He bent closer until I could feel his breath puff against the sensitive skin surrounding the plug. “I like it a lot.” His voice was heavy with arousal. And then I felt the soft, wet of his tongue as he tentatively licked over the path his finger had just taken, rimming the edge of the plug.

My body quaked and I fought to remain still. Every nerve screamed for more, more, more and all the moisture in my body flooded my cunt. He'd have no doubt at all about how much I liked that. The evidence slid down my inner thigh. He traced the contour a second time, his tongue firmer, more certain.