My Italian Billionaire: A BWWM Italian Billionaire Romance (8 page)

An Italian god. And for right now, he was her Italian god.

Her gaze returned to his abs. Just how deep were the ridges? She licked each one, tracing along his lines, moving closer to his pants. He placed his hands on her head, not pushing, not demanding, just following, and accepting.

When she reached his pants, she stood. Too many clothes yet. Why weren't they both naked already? Before she could try to remove her shirt without unbuttoning any buttons, he ripped it off her. Buttons flew everywhere, and she gaped at him. That rawness, that power, that was what she craved right now. Not tender. Not slow. Maybe that could come later, but right now, she needed fast and hot and rough and she needed it now.

She shrugged out of the ruined shirt as he removed his pants and then hers. He lowered as he pushed her black pants down, kissing each inch of exposed skin on her upper thighs to her knees down to her ankles and even her toes as she stepped out of the pants. Every part of her quivered with anticipation, her nipples pebbled, her sex throbbing with need.

The only piece of clothing either of them wore was her bra. She slipped out of it, and she enjoyed watching his eyes grow wide. Her breasts were the one part of her body she loved. Full and ripe.

But right now, she didn't want him to watch her front. Pretending to be listening to music in her head, she danced, swinging her hips, and sauntered over to the end of her couch. She laid over the arm of it, ass up high.

"Come and take me," she whispered, voice hazy with lust.

It took him far too long to locate a condom, unwrap it, and glove himself, but then he pushed himself inside her with one strong thrust. She jolted from the pressure, loving how he filled her. Yes, this was what she needed, what she wanted. Him to take her mind off things. Him to take the edge off. Him to make her feel incredible, like he had every other time they'd coupled.

God, she hoped this wouldn't be the last time. It felt too damn good to end anytime soon, whatever this was between them.

"Yes," she murmured, closing her eyes, enjoying the feel of her nipples rubbing against her couch as he pulled out and thrust deep again and again.

Reaching behind her, she guided his hands to her hips so he could have better leverage. She rammed herself backward each time he entered her. She couldn't get enough. She needed more. She needed all he could give.

"Faster," she grunted. "H-harder."

He responded to her demands wordlessly, and the force of him deep inside, her clit rubbing against the arm of the couch… It all felt so good, just right, almost there.

"Oh, oh. Oh!" The strength in her arms gave out, and her upper body collapsed onto the couch as strong almost wicked waves of pleasure pulsated throughout her body.

Still, he buried himself inside, and she found herself still pushing back, accepting him in even farther than before. Slight pain mixed with pleasure, and she tightened her walls around him, wanting him to feel as much enjoyment from all of this as she did.

"You… like it fast?" he grunted.

"Yes, baby," she moaned.

"Hard?"

"The harder…" Oh, that spot right there, yes. When had she closed her eyes? It was all too much for her. "The better."

"God, you're sexy." He ran his large hands over her back onto her shoulders. Gently, unlike his hips' and pelvis' action, he brushed her hair aside. Lucca bent down and traced a line of wet kisses from her neck up to her ear.

His body weight, the pressure of him inside her, his tongue, it all proved too much. Already she was gearing up for another orgasm. The man knew just how to get a reaction out of her.

She twisted her neck to kiss him as best she could, and on the next thrust, he released a heart-wrenching groan that had her muscles tightening in response. He came first, but she wasn't far behind him.

Lucca removed himself from her. While he cleaned up, she climbed onto the couch and closed her eyes. All of her pent-up anger and frustration was gone, replaced with, of all things, guilt.

A warm body pressed along hers, and she opened her eyes as Lucca wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to him. Without jarring her, he maneuvered her to lie on top of him. Otherwise, her small couch couldn't really contain them both.

He kissed her nose and then her lips, a long, sensual one. "That was quite the greeting."

"I'm sorry," she blurted out.

His thick eyebrows furrowed. "For what?"

She placed a hand on his chest to lean away from him. "I used you," she confessed. "I had a really crappy morning and—"

"Megan, you didn't use me."

"But—"

"Trust me. I wanted you." He bucked his hips, and she tumbled forward. His lips brushed against her cheek before she could get back up again. "You shouldn't question that."

She stared at her hand on his chest. The contrast of light and dark brought a smile to her face. While her other boyfriends had been black, she had had plenty of crushes on white guys over the years.

Other boyfriends. Lucca didn't quite qualify as boyfriend yet.

"Tell me about your crappy morning." He tucked a wild strand of hair behind her ear. It sprang out again almost immediately. He tried again. Same result.

They both laughed.

Her smile shifted downward, and she sighed.

"That bad?"

Actually, she was thinking about how he was once again asking about herself, and while it was sweet that he cared, she knew little about him besides knowing he had an incredible body and knew how to use it. Well, and his parents were both dead, but other than that detail, he always turned the conversation so she was the one doing the sharing.

But it also was only logical for him to ask. "I quit my job."

His eyebrows rose. "You did?"

"Yes." She climbed off him and sat on the floor in front of him.

He shifted to sit and patted the couch. "Why?"

"You can guess why," she said dryly. Maybe against her better judgment, she sat beside him. Only now did the enormity of what she did begin to sink in. How was she going to pay her rent? Or buy food?

"I'm sure—"

"You came here to see me?" she asked suddenly. "But you had to know I was at work. Well, supposed to be at work."

Lucca grabbed his jeans and removed a mangled piece of paper. "I had planned on shoving this beneath your door."

She looked over his shoulder as his long fingers smoothed out the paper. An application for a position at a five-star restaurant.

"Me? Cooking at Luigi's?" Megan shook her head.

"Why not?"

"I won't get hired there."

"Look, this is a process. You took the first step by quitting your soul-sucking job. Now you have to find a new one."

She groaned and rubbed her hands down her face. "You make it sound so easy. And…" Megan cast a sidewise glance at him. "It sounds like you might've gone through this before."

Finally a means to turn the tables and learn something about him.

"Actually…" He hesitated.

Gently, she pried the crinkled paper from his fingers. "Thanks, but no thanks." It crumpled into a ball in her hands.

Lines formed on his forehead as he frowned. "Why did you do that?"

"Setting myself up for disappointment right now isn't the best of ideas." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "But I do appreciate you trying to help. Thank you."

All she intended was to kiss his cheek, but her breasts rubbed against his arm, and she noticed his penis stiffening.

He shifted and covered himself with his hands. "Megan, if you don't believe in yourself, no one else will."

A sigh escaped her lips. "What are you, some kind of fortune-teller writer?"

His lips quirked, and her stomach gave a tiny flip. "No, but I know that hard work and dedication are the most important traits for anyone, regardless of their job."

"Psychiatrist?" she guessed.

"Are you even listening to me?"

She kissed his shoulder. Every part of him was muscular and lean and amazing. "It's a little hard to when you're sitting here, next to me, naked."

But she wasn't in the mood for another go around, and from the crease between his eyebrows, she guessed he wasn't the happiest with her for not taking him more seriously.

"I just need a day," she said softly. "To myself."

He blinked several times. "All right then."

Megan winced and tugged at his arm as he moved to stand. She sighed. "Not myself myself. Ugh."

He patted her hand on his arm before disentangling her from him. "It probably is a good idea for you to have some time to sort things out."

"Yes, but…" If he left, if she had to face being in her apartment by herself, she feared she would realize what a colossal mistake she had made.

And her parents. If they ever found out, if she had to go crawling back to them, asking to move in with them… No. No matter what she had to do, that would never happen. Even if she had to take on several jobs at once, would even degrade herself to working at a fast food joint. Well, no, maybe not quite that far, but she would not leave New York and her dream of being a chef behind.

She glanced at the paper. One day, she would be worthy of not only applying to a five-star restaurant, she'd work at one. Right now, she knew her skill wasn't quite there yet. Experience and time—what she needed more than anything.

And right now, she wasn't able to gain any experience without a job.

Lucca chuckled, and she jumped at the sound. She'd almost forgotten he was still there. "See? You need to think. And if I'm such a distraction…"

"A welcome distraction." She grinned up at him but made no move to stop him from standing and dressing.

He snapped his long fingers. "I have lunch available tomorrow. Can I trouble you to join me?"

"Join you?" Her heart pounded in her chest. Was he finally inviting her over? While she enjoyed having him over, she wanted to see his place. It would make them seem more like a real couple instead of just two people who got intimate repeatedly. Amazingly.

"Yes. For lunch." His smile grew. "Here. I might not know eggs, but I can heat up soup and grilled cheese shouldn't be that hard. Although I'm sure I could find a way to screw it up." His eyebrows drew together. "You do have a fire extinguisher on hand just in case?"

It was surprisingly easy to swallow her disappointment at his sweet offer to attempt to cook again. "Hey, now." She stood and swatted his shoulder, wishing he hadn't put on his shirt yet so she could feel his hard bicep again. "Anyone can learn the basics. Cooking is about trusting and faith and believing…" Her eyes narrowed. "You did that on—"

His kiss stole the rest of her words away. "Tomorrow then. Noon all right?"

"Yes," she said breathlessly. How could one kiss, a somewhat chaste one at that, leave her weak at the knees?

She had to be careful around this man. How could she trust him when she hardly knew him? And yet as she watched him leave, she could tell she was starting to care for him, fall for him even.

Closing the door, she took several deep breaths. She would not be betrayed and left brokenhearted again. If he didn't start sharing details about himself and soon, she would cut ties with him.

He better talk then.
Because she didn't want to be done with the Italian just yet.

Chapter Eleven: Trying to Help

Lucca walked out of Megan's apartment in a daze. He hadn't expected to find her there. His secretary had mentioned that morning that Luigi's was looking for a new chef, and Lucca had thought it serendipity. Nothing could be more perfect.

Before he could shove the application under her door, she had come bounding up the steps, looking ready to kill. And then how rough she had wanted the sex… Angry sex was definitely something he enjoyed, although he couldn't help worrying about her. Being able to afford living in New York without a job was impossible, and while he could easy loan her money or even just pay her bills for her, he couldn't. One, he wasn't ready to find out if she was just another gold digger. Two, he didn't think she would take to that too kindly. At least he hoped she wouldn't, but his track record with women suggested he knew nothing when it came to finding a true woman, one who cared more about her man than his money.

Maybe a true woman didn't exist in the world.

Might as well wish I had two dicks.

While he had plenty of good sex over the years, Megan kept things fresh. Most women, he got bored sooner or later. Would she be the same?

It would probably be better to just tell her who he was. He'd seen the hope in her eyes when she'd thought it possible they might go to his place. Yes, he cared for her, already, but caring wasn't love.

"Damn it, Father," he grumbled as he turned the corner.

A passerby stared at him strangely, but Lucca didn't care.

If only his father hadn't put that stupid stipulation in his will. If only his parents hadn't shown him what a marriage based on love looked like.

God only knew he didn't equate sex with love. He knew some women did, but he never had that problem. A few of his old girlfriends had fancied themselves in love with him, and with the first, he had been flattered until it became quite clear her love had actually more of a paper or plastic quality to it. He'd even had to get a restraining order on her. The sad part? He had two other orders out on other women.