Educating Gina (13 page)

“That’s the problem.”

“I do not see a problem.” Her hand found his cheek and his heart jumped. “Zio Antonio does not know you are here.”

“Yeah, but—” he moved her hand when her fingers trailed down to his top button “—we still shouldn’t be in bed together.”

“We are not doing anything wrong.”

Yet.
He swallowed. “The thing is…”

She scooted closer until her vanilla-scented hair brushed his chin, and then she put a hand on his shoulder so that nothing came between her breasts and his chest. She’d sounded calm enough, but her heart pounded against him like a jackhammer.

“This is precisely the kind of thing that’s going to get us in trouble.” He reared his head back. “Gina, where’s the pillow?”

She kissed him.

Although she missed his lips and got his chin. She tried again, her attempt so awkward it was sweet and endearing, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and pull her on top of him.

The darkness didn’t help. In the light he’d see the way her eyes widened with uncertainty and youth, easily reminding him that she didn’t know what she was asking for. But here, in the dark, with her soft curvy body clinging to him like butter on a cracker, temptation held new meaning.

“Gina, you know we can’t do this.”

“We kiss all the time.” Her damp lips found his.

He tried not to give in, but when her tongue tentatively touched the corner of his mouth, he slanted his head for better access and kissed her so deeply she whimpered.

“Wait, Michael.” Her breath came in sputters.

He jerked back. What an ass he was to scare her like that.

She lifted the covers and moved away. It took a few seconds for him to realize she was leaving the bed.

Panic burned in his chest. He really had frightened her. “Where are you going?”

She shushed him and then pressed a brief kiss on his cheek. “Nowhere.”

He reached out to stop her, but she slipped away. She didn’t go far. Standing a foot away from the bed, she lifted the hem of her dress and shimmied until the clingy fabric rode up her body. The ride was slow, the tight dress inching up as she wiggled.

The small night-light on the baseboard behind her gave off just enough illumination to make him want to cry uncle. When she finally pulled the dress off, his mouth went dry. She reached behind and then slid her bra straps down her shoulders, and the bra was gone. When she twisted around to toss it on the chair, the jut of her breasts in profile about did him in.

Leaving on her panties, what little there was of them, she crawled back under the covers. She snuggled up to him, thrusting her breasts against his chest. Her nipples poked him through his shirt.

“Gina, you’re crazy.” He barely got the words out. He sounded weak and pathetic.

“The door is locked.”

“That isn’t the point.” God, he wanted to touch her. He flexed his hands at his sides. It would be so easy to glide his palm over the curve of her hip, to cup the weight of her breast, to rub her nipple between his thumb and finger the way he knew she liked it.

“Michael, take off your shirt,” she said in a small voice.

“You’re not listening. This is so dangerous.” That she could strip in front of him one minute and still manage to sound shy the next blew his mind. It wasn’t an act, either. She was curious and naive and entirely too comfortable around him. A scary combination.

She laid a hand on his arm and curled her fingers around his biceps. “We will not do anything we have not already done.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” He was a jerk. He needed to get out of bed right now. She was right. The door was locked. Antonio couldn’t walk in. Mike could wait this out on the floor.

She picked up his hand and placed it on her left breast. Weak bastard that he was, he let her do it. Her skin was so warm and silky he wanted to melt into her. “Please take off your shirt.”

“But Antonio—”

“He thinks I am sleeping.”

“You don’t understand, Gina.” His hand started to knead her breast as if it had a mind of its own. “This is really hard for me.”

Her heart hammered his palm. “Why?”

Maybe he should be honest and scare the hell out of her. “Because I want to do things to you I shouldn’t. I want to put my mouth where I shouldn’t, and touch you where a man has never touched you. Now do you understand?”

She kept quiet for a few seconds. “I want you to touch me.”

He let out a curse that made her jump. She shrank away. “Honey, I’m sorry.” He put an arm around her and urged her back against him. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

Her soft sigh tickled his chin. “You confuse me.”

“I know.” What the hell was he doing holding her so close? She had to feel Mount Vesuvius about to erupt down there. That alone should scare her, make her think twice about what could happen if they weren’t smart.

And playing smart was getting old. Really old.

“Michael?”

He briefly closed his eyes. He knew that tone of voice, full of curiosity and trouble. “Yes, Gina.”

She laughed. “You sound like my papa.”

“Great.” He wished he felt a little fatherly.

“Will you take off your shirt now?”

Mike swallowed. Maybe he should just try to sneak out. If Antonio was drunk enough…

“Remember at the beach?” she asked, her fingers etching abstract patterns in the open V of his shirt.

He remembered, all right. A night hadn’t gone by that he hadn’t lain in bed replaying the feel of her breasts on his chest, her nipples thrusting at him.

“I’ll take my shirt off, but that’s it.” He damn near ripped the polo off. Smooth. Very smooth.

He dropped it on the floor and then bracketed his hands around her waist and pulled her close.

She made a soft whimpering sound that went straight to his groin. When she pushed harder, her breasts flattening against him, he had a second thought about losing the shirt. It lasted a whole second. Her arms went around him and she rubbed the muscles on his back.

Cupping his hands over her buttocks, he found her mouth and kissed her hard and thoroughly. Her enthusiastic response sent his body temperature skyrocketing.

She was a quick learner. Awkward and tentative a week ago, she now boldly used her tongue to tease and persuade. She arrowed her hands down his back and tucked her fingers under the waistband of his jeans.

He’d have to stop this in a minute, if his heart didn’t explode first.

To his shame, Gina was the one who cooled things. She softened the kiss, nibbled at the corner of his mouth and then drew back. “Michael?”

At her coaxing tone, he tensed.

“Can I touch you?”

“Michael?” She swallowed. “If you do not want me to—”

He laughed. His voice sounded funny. Kind of hoarse.

“I want you to touch me. Very much. That’s the problem.”

The darkness kept her from seeing his face. If she shifted to the left, the glow from the night-light would help, but she fit so perfectly against him, she dared not move and break the spell. “You keep talking about a problem. I am not asking for anything more.”

“Ah, Gina.” He touched her cheek. “In a way I wish you were more experienced. Then I wouldn’t feel so damn guilty.”

She gasped with sudden realization. “You are not forcing me to do anything.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. Of course I wouldn’t force you. But it’s not right for me to encourage you, either.”

She moved so that her breasts rubbed against his chest. “It is me who is encouraging you.”

He laughed and moaned at the same time. “You’ve got me there.”

What an incredibly naughty and wonderful feeling, lying here in bed without her clothes next to Michael. Of course she still had on her panties. She was not yet brave enough to remove them. Besides, she was embarrassingly wet between her thighs.

She left one hand wedged beneath his belt and ran the other up his chest, liking the feel of his springy hair on her palm. His nipple puckered and she pinched it lightly. She loved it when he did that to her, and the way he shuddered assured her he liked it, too.

Between them, he grew harder and her uncertainty made her so frustrated she wanted to scream. Haltingly she let her hand slide down his chest to his waist, then to his fly.

He grabbed her wrist and stretched her arm up over her head, forcing her to lie back on the pillows. The sudden move startled her and she choked back a gasp. He smothered the sound by covering her mouth with his, and her heart raced with excitement.

The kiss was not gentle but rough, and robbed her of breath. He did not release her wrist, which thrilled her even more. When his mouth moved down to her breast, she forgot how to breathe. His tongue swirled around her nipple, and then he nipped it with his teeth.

She nearly cried out with pleasure, but pressed her lips together and closed her eyes while he lapped at the swollen bud.

When he moved his mouth to her other breast, he released her wrist and used his fingers to soothe the first nipple.

“Michael?”

He suckled and licked and kissed. His chest rose and fell, heavy against her belly. If he heard, he didn’t answer.

She wanted him to take off his pants. He would still have on his underwear, just like her. Maybe if she reached down and undid his belt. But he would stop her, she knew.

“Michael?” She bucked when his hand slid to her belly. “Take off your pants.”

His hand and mouth slowed.

“Just your pants,” she added quickly.

He would not say or do anything. And then he removed his mouth from her breast, which she regretted with all her heart. He kissed her briefly on the lips, and the hand he’d placed on her belly transferred to her breast and rested idly there.

She nearly sighed with relief that he had not run away.

“And then what?”

She blinked at his question. “I do not understand.”

“Why do you want me to take off my pants?”

Heat filled her cheeks. Asking him to do something while they were kissing was different than having a conversation about it. “Because I…” She would stammer if she said anything more.

Silence lengthened. She tried again. “Because I want to feel you against me.”

He grabbed her wrist again, this time even more roughly, and pressed her palm against his fly. “Is this what’s got you curious?”

Her pulse raced with excitement and fear. He sounded angry. But the feel of his hardness beneath her palm mesmerized her. She slid her fingers up, gauging the impossible length he had stretched. She knew from her friends how a man’s body responded, but she had never expected this. Reaching the tip, she cupped the roundness.

He groaned and tightened his hold on her wrist. He muttered something she didn’t understand. “You can’t be this naive, Gina. No way.” He pushed her hand aside and rolled off the bed. “You’re asking too much from me.” His voice had risen, but he promptly lowered it. “You’d better think long and hard about what you’re doing.”

“Michael, do not be angry. Please.”

He picked his shirt up from the floor and jerked it on.

“Dammit, I’m no saint, Gina. How long do you think I can keep this up?”

She was not at all certain what he meant, so she said nothing. Maybe he thought she wanted him to go all the way. In truth, sometimes she did, but other times the idea frightened her.

“I’m going to make sure your uncle is busy, and I’m getting out of here.”

“Do not leave angry.”

“I’m not angry. I’m frustrated. Get some sleep.” He stopped at the door to listen. Seconds later he opened it a crack. And then he left without even looking back.

She lay still, heavy with sadness and confusion. She did not intend to upset Michael. If only she was more experienced. But fear of the nuns and her parents had held her back from experimenting with anything more than kissing. Everything seemed different with Michael. She felt comfortable and safe and desperate to do things she’d never dreamed of doing. Well, she may have dreamed it, but nothing ever happened.

Feeling slightly chilled, she crawled out of bed and got her nightgown from the closet. Her breasts were still damp from Michael’s mouth. She slid the white cotton nightie over her head and then crawled back into bed and stared at the shadows on the ceiling.

There was only one thing she could do. Venture out alone and get some experience.