High Stakes Seduction - Book 3 (9 page)

"I’m glad you get along with everyone there," he said, nodding his approval at my choice. "I was concerned that you might find the situation a bit overwhelming," he laughed. "But I know better than to underestimate you now."

I gave him a wry smile. "Is that a compliment from my boss, or from my lover?"

His eyes went wide, caught off guard by my question. "I didn’t mean—"

I cut him off with a laugh. "What do you think of this one?" I handed him another bottle.

He sniffed the delicate sandalwood fragrance and nodded his approval. "Who’s this one for?"

"You," I smiled.

"Ah," he said, leaning in to kiss my cheek. "And this one is for you, dear Ange."

He handed me a beautifully designed bottle. On the stopper was carved a cheerful white and yellow, five-petal flower. "You know, that's what my sister calls me." I smiled. "Oh, this is lovely," I said, reading the label. "Frangipani? Is that the name of the flower?"

"It’s made from the plumeria, a flower commonly found in the tropics," said the woman behind the counter. "It has many meanings to different cultures, but it is always considered special. Often its magical properties are related to the feminine force in nature or to love—even in feng shui. In the Hindu culture, the plumeria is a symbol of loyalty."

"A very special flower for a very special lady," Antonio said, leading me over to the other side of the gift store. We picked out a few more perfumes, as well as some scented soaps and oils for Maria and Nevia before finally calling it a day.

"There’s something different about you." Maria peered at me with narrowed eyes through the computer screen. I tried really hard to maintain my composure, but when my big sister started making her leering "come on, you better tell me right now" faces, I couldn’t help but snicker.

"Aha!" Maria exclaimed triumphantly. "I knew you were hiding something. Spill the beans, Ange."

"Well…" I began, glancing around the room. There were two other people seated at computers not far from me, chatting animatedly with loved ones far away. They weren’t paying attention to my conversation, but I still felt a little awkward talking in a public place about the recent change in my situation with Antonio. "Let’s just say I took your advice and… it worked. Very well."

"Oh ho," Maria said with a grin. "Of course, I never doubted for a minute that you couldn’t get anything you wanted once you put your mind to it. I’m sure he’s wrapped around your finger now."

"Maria, it’s not like that at all."

She raised her brows with a skeptical look. "If you say so, Sis. But even Thompson says that Antonio’s different when he’s around you."

"Thompson," I said, pouncing on the opportunity to change the subject. "Come on, spill. What's up on the home front?"

It was Maria’s turn to blush and be coy. "Oh Ange, there’s nothing going on. I mean, not like what you have. He’s been spending a lot of time with his daughter lately and it’s been really nice to hang out with the two of them. To get out of the house, you know?"

"I do," I said, genuinely happy for her. She’d always been such an outgoing person, but the accident changed everything, causing her to become a shut-in, not really living but more observing. It was such a relief to see her actually getting out and enjoying herself.

"Emily's a great kid," Maria continued, her eyes brightening even more. "She tells such fantastic stories. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with an imagination as vivid as hers. And she’s so clever for someone so young. When she tells her stories, it’s like she’s painting pictures with her words. I can almost see them."

"You could paint them for her," I ventured. Other than returning the use of her legs, there was nothing I wanted more for my sister than to see her start painting again. Or to at least get her drawing and sketching.

There was something special about this child that was getting to Maria in a way no one else had been able to do since the accident. She lit up every time she spoke about the girl. I wondered if Emily was the key to getting Maria back to her artistic passions. "I bet Emily would love to see her words brought to life."

Maria looked up at me suddenly, silent and staring somewhat vacantly. I'd obviously struck a chord—I could almost see the wheels turning.

MARIA

"Make sure you send me more pictures," I told Angela. "And I want to see pictures of you and Mr. Gorgeous, okay?"

It was such an obvious subject change, I knew Angela saw right through it, but she didn’t press me. She’d always tried hard to get me back into painting, but since the accident, I wasn't much interested. Whenever she brought it up, I’d always backed down, afraid of—of what? There was always some niggling worry there. But right now I had no idea what I could be afraid of.

The sound of Angela’s laughter cheered me up. It was good to see her so happy. After our last call, I’d been really worried about her, she'd been the one who seemed uncertain. But, judging by her glowing smile and twinkling eyes, things were clearly going her way now.

"I’ll see what I can do," she said and shortly after, we said our good byes.

Now that we were off the chat, I turned toward my table. Ange had given me an idea. One I hadn't really considered before. I thought about her suggestions, seeing Emily’s cheerful little face in my mind's eye.

The last time we’d been together, Thompson had taken us on a picnic. Between mouthfuls of the finger sandwiches and potato salad I’d brought along, Emily had entertained us with a story about a little girl who wanted to be a dancer, but couldn’t dance because she’d hurt her legs fighting a dragon. But, she insisted, it wasn’t a mean dragon. The dragon had just been really scared because everyone treated him so badly and always tried to hurt him.

I had listened, fascinated by her animated face and sparkling eyes as she wove her story. It had been like a movie playing in my head—the little dancer and the sad, scared dragon.

On my table sat my paints and pads. My watercolor pad and brushes were at the far right corner of the desktop, and my sketchpads and pencils near the center. Without hesitating, I picked up my sketch pad and a No.2 pencil. My hand almost shook as a sense of doubt crept in for an instant, but I pushed it back, determined not to let it get to me.

Then I set pencil to paper and let it go to work, sketching a poor, sad dragon with a long tail and wide wings. The young girl with broken legs who came back to visit the dragon, years after their battle. The delicate tea set she’d brought with her to share with the frightened beast. Over tea, the unlikely pair talked about their fears and their dreams. The girl told the dragon how she’d always wanted to dance among the clouds, and the dragon told her how lonely he was, and sad that no one wanted to be his friend.

Behind me, the grandfather clock struck midnight and I blinked, looking around for a moment, wondering where I was.

"Midnight?" I murmured. Where had the time gone? I stretched my arms, realizing suddenly I was tired. Tired, but full, and strangely satisfied.

I looked down at my sketch pad, and then at my smudged fingertips, blackened from the graphite. My pad had been practically empty when I'd begun hours earlier, but now, on the very last page, was the image of a girl with a smile as bright as the sun, dancing among the clouds on the back of a dragon who’d finally found a friend.

ANGELA

Soft, insistent lips nuzzled my neck. "Mmm," I murmured, blinking into the early sunlight. "This is way better than an alarm clock."

The night before still felt like a dream—probably because I’d been deeply asleep when Antonio returned from another night at the casino. Even my kisses hadn't been enough to keep him with me in the room, but he'd promised he wouldn’t stay late, telling me to wait up for him if I could.

"Good Morning, my sleeping beauty," he murmured once he’d managed to rouse me. I had dreamt about strong arms lifting and carrying me from my bed into the other room. Now that I was awake, lying in the luxurious queen-sized bed with Antonio beside me, I knew it was no dream.

I raised myself up on one elbow and leaned over to kiss him. He took me in his arms, pulling me closer, his lips devouring mine as his tongue pressed between my lips.

If I wasn’t before, I was definitely fully awake now, returning his kiss eagerly as the slow burn built within me. His hand traced the curve of my waist, pausing to rest on my hips and pull me into him. Only my thin cotton nightgown stood between us as the bulge of his manhood pressed against me, turning my slow burn into a blaze. I freed myself from the inconvenience of my panties, then put a hand to his shoulder and pressed him gently but firmly until he rolled onto his back. All the while, our lips remained locked in a deep, hungry kiss until I pulled back, pushing myself up to straddle him with his cock throbbing between my thighs.

He watched me with hooded eyes. His lips parted into a small smile as I pulled my gown up over my head, stretching out my arm to drop it over the side of the bed. His hands found my hips as I began to slide my soaking slit along his erection ever so slowly, back and forth. I watched his eyes flutter closed as a groan escaped his lips and his fingers tightened.

It felt so good, moving against him like this, the head of his cock eliciting aches of pleasure as it rubbed against my clit. I knew I could bring myself to climax just by doing this a little while longer, and judging by the look on Antonio’s face, he probably felt the same way. But I wanted to make this last.

I leaned forward, letting my hair fall in a silken curtain around him. I brushed my lips against his and he raised his head to meet my lips, but I moved away, slipping to the side to catch the soft lobe of his ear in my teeth.

A soft, husky chuckle escaped his lips. His hips moved beneath me and his hands moved up my back in feathered touches that sent a current of warmth running through me.

I bit my lip, determined to maintain control. "It’s my turn to play," I whispered in his ear before moving to nuzzle his neck, then shifting lower to nibble at his chest until I found the tender flesh of his nipple, toying the tip with my tongue. I heard his breath catch as my teeth ever so gently grazed him before I moved across to the other nipple, letting my hair caress his skin.

Sliding lower still, I trailed kisses down his chest, admiring the hard muscles of his stomach. His cock pressed against my chest, slipping between my breasts as I moved my lips down past the soft nest of black hair to greet his cock with a kiss. Antonio moaned softly and shifted his body. I glanced up to see he’d raised himself onto his elbows to watch me with glazed eyes, his lower lip pushed out slightly.

I gave him a wicked grin, wrapping my fingers, one at a time around the base of his shaft. His jaw tightened and the muscles in his stomach tensed. Oh how I could tease him then. Antonio Mancini at my mercy. It was a heady thought that aroused me even more.

My tongue flicked out, tasting him. He gasped. I let my tongue play once more as I stroked him, then without warning, I took his entire length into the warmth of my mouth.

The sound that escaped him then was somewhere between a groan and a growl, the primal nature called out to me and my body responded with a throbbing ache between my thighs. I worked my hand and mouth along his shaft, swirling my tongue around the tip and then taking him deep into my mouth again and again. I felt his hand weave into my hair and looked up to find him still watching me, his face a mask of concentrated pleasure.

I loved the feel of him in my mouth; the sweetness of being able to bring him such pleasure. I reached down to touch myself, not at all surprised at how wet I was already. I moaned as I let my fingers play, circling my clit. The intensity became almost too much. I wanted to come so badly, but I wanted him inside me when I did.

I managed to maintain my self-control long enough to tease him just once more. Slowly, I released his cock from my mouth, sliding my tongue along the underside before crawling back along the length of his body.

I saw in his eyes that he was ready for this as he reached almost clumsily for the nightstand beside the bed. I spotted the condom there and leaned forward to retrieve it, letting my breasts brush his lips. I gasped as his tongue flicked out, catching a nipple as I passed. A moment later, I was carefully rolling the condom onto his rigid shaft and then guiding him inside me.

His hands found my hips once more as I slid down, taking him inside me inch by glorious inch. Involuntarily, I threw my head back, my hands running up my breasts as I began to ride him. His hips bucked, grinding against me and I fell forward, into a rhythm that became faster and faster until he was calling my name through gritted teeth, his fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs as he released his pleasure within me. His spasms set off a chain reaction in me and a moment later, every muscle in my body was tightening around him in my own throbbing quake of pleasure and release.

My eyes fluttered closed as the last of the tremors shook me. Then as if in slow motion, I collapsed against his chest. His arms trembled slightly as they wrapped around me and I smiled, thrilled to know I could bring him such ecstasy.