Letters to the Baumgarters

Chapter Four

Dear Carrie and Doc,

You aren’t going to believe who’s showed up on my doorstep. I can barely believe it myself. Mason! That’s right, I found my ex-husband sitting on my stoop, waiting for me after class, with just a suitcase and an English-Italian translation dictionary in his hands. I think I was too much in shock to do anything else but invite him inside.

And I swear to God, it’s really not my fault he spent the night. He bought a one-way ticket and he didn’t even book a room! What was I supposed to do, send him out onto the streets alone? He doesn’t know a word of Italian-you should hear his accent, or lack thereof. Eek! But nothing happened. Well, mostly nothing.

Okay, okay, I admit, we, uh… we reconciled a little bit. Part of it was the wine. That was my fault. And, you guys, he brought me Ho-Hos! (No jokes, I mean it!) It’s one of those weird, occasional indulgences of mine that I really miss. He knows me so well. It’s hard to say no to a man who does something like that-not to mention the whole International flight to see me thing. But I think it was mostly the wine.

Of course, now this complicates things with Nico a bit. To say the least. I’m not sure what to say to him, if anything. And Mason says he wants to stay for a while, but I don’t know what that means exactly. “Let’s just see where things go,” is what he said. I should have been mad at him, to tell you the truth. I should have slammed the door in his face and told him to go home. I mean, that’s what I should have done, right? Isn’t that what you would want me to do?

But I just couldn’t. So now he’s here, and I’m not quite sure what to do about that…

“Dani?” Mason’s voice beckoned me back from the siren-call of Ho-Ho’s in my little kitchen. I licked the chocolate off my fingers, tucking my letter to the Baumgartners away, and padded back into the bedroom, still nude. “What time is it?”

“Midnight.” I sat on the edge of the bed, the little lamp on the night stand illuminating his sleepy face, eyes still half-closed-but his gaze was on my body, already hungry. Still hungry. “You’re still on American time.”

“Come back to bed.” His hand moved, warm, over my hip, still familiar, even though it had been so long. I couldn’t believe how easily I had fallen into bed with him, how easily I was falling… Maybe that thing about absence making the heart growing fonder really was true. Not that I had ever really stopped loving Mason. I’d divorced him knowing I would probably continue to love him for the rest of my life-but love didn’t always solve everything.

“What are you doing here?” I murmured the question, running my hand through the soft, sandy bristle of his short-cut hair, so different from Nico’s thick, dark curls. Thinking of Nico made my stomach lurch with guilt. I didn’t want to think about what my actions tonight might be doing to him, to our budding relationship. It hurt my head-and my heart-too much.

“This.” He reached for me and I went to him, relieved, without any more thought at all.

I couldn’t believe how quickly we had plunged into this, how easy it felt, being in his arms. Sex had always been something we were good at, from the very beginning. At least until Isabella. Then, things had started falling apart and we just couldn’t put it all back together again. That was probably why we’d ended up here, in bed, on his first night in Italy. We were good here. It was outside of bed that was the problem.

“I want you.” His breath was hot in my ear, his hands large and warm, moving over my back, drawing me near.

“Again?” I teased, reaching down to check, and sure enough, finding him half-hard, beginning to fill my hand.

“Always.” He kissed me, his mouth sliding deliciously across mine. Everything about him was familiar and new at the same time, and I reveled in it-the hard press of his chest, the solid weight of his hips as we rolled on the bed, the well-defined muscles of his arms and shoulders and back under my hands.

“I want to taste you.”

I moaned in anticipation as he kissed his way down my breasts.

We’d been quick the first time, too quick, tearing at each other’s clothes on the way to the bed, our lust too intense for niceties like foreplay. Seeing Mason sitting on the front stoop waiting for me had broken something open in my chest. A part of me that had been stuck and frozen solid was beginning to melt.

“God I love your tits.” He pressed my breasts together in his big hands, getting my nipples as close as he could, and tracing figure-eights there like a skater on a loop, over and over. I whimpered, trying to stay quiet, my pussy throbbing, anticipating the wet lash of his tongue between my legs.

My belly quivered, goosebumps rising on my flesh as he breathed his way down my belly, pausing to lick the jut of my hipbone, following the curve down toward my thigh. I spread my legs for him, offering myself to him completely. I was his, I had always been his. How could I have ever believed any different? Time and distance, pain and separation, that all disappeared the moment his skin met mine.

“Oh god, it’s so smooth.” His fingers brushed my lips, soft and swollen, parting them at the top of my cleft so he could look at me. “So fucking beautiful.”

I went up on my elbows so I could look down and watch. He smiled, knowing how much I loved to see his tongue lap at me, and began kissing my clit, soft, gentle kisses that sent electric shocks through my pelvis.

“Tease.” I slid my palm over his head. His sandy hair was bristly and short-there was nothing to hold onto-so I slipped my hand behind his neck and pressed his mouth to my pussy. He didn’t resist, letting me guide him, rocking my hips against the soft worry of his tongue, back and forth, round and round. “Oh god, yes, like that…”

But he knew. There was no need to tell him what I liked, what I didn’t. His mouth knew just the right places, the exact timing I wanted, needed, moving faster, matching my breath. The excitement rose in my belly like a glorious phoenix from the ashes of a Persian mystery, something waiting to be reborn.

“Mason,” I gasped, my fingers looking for something to hold onto and finding only the soft stubble of his hair. My nails dug into his shoulders and my hips shot up off the bed as my climax found me, zeroing in on my pelvis and shaking me like a kitten in the mouth of a pitbull. Mason hung onto my hips, licking my pussy fast and hard, holding me tight as I bucked on the mattress, biting the flesh of my forearm to keep from screaming in release.

“Oh fuck.” I gasped, rolling away from his persistent mouth. He followed me, nipping at the soft curve of my ass, his hands roaming the length of my body as I stretched out on my tummy on the bed. I moaned into a pillow when he grabbed my hips, lifting my ass and using the head of his cock to search for entrance.

I clung to the sheet, my hands balling into fists as he found what he was looking for, rocking his hips forward and sliding his cock deep into me. I heard his sharp intake of breath, felt the way his fingers dug into my hips, and knew he was far closer to coming than he wanted to be. I smiled, closing my eyes and rhythmically squeezing the muscles of my pussy.

“Ohhh god,” he moaned, his grip tightening. “You brat!”

“Feel good?” I teased, squeezing faster, harder, trying to mimic the hard flutter of my orgasm. He groaned in response, pulling out almost completely, leaving just the head of his cock at the opening of my pussy.

“Are you determined to make me come?”

“Eventually.” I reached back to feel him, slick and hard.

“It’s gonna be sooner rather than later if you keep that up.”

My hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently. “Come all you want, we’ll make more.”

“Brat,” he said again, slapping my ass and making me squeal. I giggled as he turned me onto my back, but then my mouth was too full to do much of anything else except suck his cock. He knelt over me and fed me his dick, inch by delicious inch. When I’d caught a good rhythm, he let his hips do the work, fucking my mouth, his thumbs grazing my nipples, making my pussy ache at the loss of his cock.

I gasped when he pulled out of my mouth, rubbing the head over my lips. They felt swollen and even a little numb, but I didn’t care. I licked at the sensitive ridge of his cock, tracing the pulse of his veins, his dick so full it had turned magenta in color. I grabbed him in my hand, watching his face as I stroked him against my tits. His eyes lit up, a slow smile spreading.

“You want these?” I pressed my breasts together around his length, feeling his hips already beginning to move. “You want to fuck these pretty tits?”

“Spit on my dick,” he ordered, shoving his cock up toward my mouth. I did as he requested, rubbing my saliva into the head and down into my cleavage. “Oh yeah. That’s so fucking good!”

His cock rode the ridge of my breastbone, his hands cupping and kneading the flesh of my breasts as he began to fuck them. With each pass, I tried to capture the head of his cock with my mouth, eager to taste the pre-cum developing at the tip.

“You like having your tits fucked, don’t you, baby?” He thumbed my nipples, sending heat down between my thighs.

“Yes,” I admitted, wedging my hand under him, searching for my clit. It seemed so far away, but it was still begging to be touched. Finally, I reached my destination. God, I was wet. Soaked. My fingers followed the groove of my pussy like a Slip-N-Slide, up and down, as Mason used my tits for his pleasure.

The feel of him rocking my whole body, my nipples hard, my breasts squeezed tightly around his cock, made me crazy with lust. I rubbed my clit furiously, trying to catch up to him. He was panting, sweat beading on his chest, sheening his belly. I wanted to lick it off, tongue his navel, but couldn’t reach. I could barely reach the head of his dick as it neared my mouth, but I put forth the effort, rewarded with a low growl every time I caught it between my lips.

“Where do you want me to come?” he panted, eyes half-closed.

“In my pussy,” I insisted, plunging my own fingers into my hole, aching to feel his cock there. “Please. Fuck me. Do it, fuck me!”

He surprised me, rolling to his back and pulling me on top of him.

“Come on, Dani,” he urged. “Ride me.”

I found his cock trapped between us and slid down his length, sighing blissfully when I felt him bottom out. I rested there, just rocking, feeling him shift deep inside of me. He groaned, biting his lip, his thumbs digging into my hips as we began to rock together. I leaned over to kiss him, wanting more, sucking his tongue into my mouth.

We moved together in perfect rhythm. Mason’s fingers found my clit, knowing just what I needed, flicking it faster and faster as we chased down the finish line like two race horses, panting and slick with sweat. I felt the first tremor of my climax beginning in my thighs. They tightened and quivered at his hips, his cock plunging deep into my pussy, his tongue into my mouth.

I couldn’t stop it and didn’t want to try. My pussy clamped down violently onto his cock, all sound receding as I came, the feeling so intense I had to break our kiss and bury my face into the crook of his neck, as if I could hide from the sensation. My toes curled under his thighs, my arms wrapping themselves around his neck as he pounded up into me like a jackhammer, making my teeth rattle.

“Gonna come,” he growled, wrapping his arms around my waist and shoving himself up so far into me I thought I could taste him at the back of my throat. “Oh fuck, Dani, I’m gonna come inside you!”

I cried out at the brutal force of his orgasm, still recovering from my own, his hips lifting me off the bed, his cock convulsing wildly inside of me, filling me with heat. The strength of it left me breathless and I hung onto him, quivering with emotion, as we slowly came back down to some semblance of reality.

It was a while before I could think, let alone speak, but eventually my mind remembered what my body couldn’t seem to hold onto. This was my ex-husband-and he was my ex for a reason. Many of them. And all of those reasons came flooding back, along with the memory of Nico the last time I’d seen him, leaving him standing at his front stoop, and I felt suddenly overwhelmed with it all.

“Mason?”

“Hmm?”

I traced his navel with my fingernail. “What are you doing here, really…?”

“I told you. I have business here.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “In Italy?”

“I’m bringing the chain to Europe,” he explained. His father owned a popular restaurant franchise in the states. I supposed it was plausible. But the Mason I had left back in the states had few ambitions aside from getting to the next level playing Dungeons and Dragons with his friends. Who was this Mason, the one who arrived in a business suit?

I laughed. “Just what Italy needs-hamburgers and fries.”

“Listen, Ms. Ho-Ho…” He reached over to tickle me and I giggled, pushing his hands away. It was hard to stay serious-so hard to resist him.

“Who are you calling a ho?” I protested.

He kissed me hard on the lips, smiling down at me. “God, I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“Really?”

“Obviously. You wouldn’t be in my bed right now if I hadn’t missed you, Mason,” I reminded him. “But I have bad news. You can’t stay here. We’re not supposed to members of the opposite sex in our rooms.”

“That’s okay,” he said, pulling me close again. “I need to get my own place.”

I raised my head to look at him in the dimness. Who was this man and what had he done with my husband? Er- ex — husband. “How long are you staying?”

“At least a month. I have to finalize plans here, find some prime real estate for our locations.”

“A month.” I blinked. When I’d left, I didn’t think he was even on track to graduate, but here he was, talking business as if it was second nature. “You’re really here just for business?”

“Well…” He cleared his throat and I waited, just looking at him. “Expanding into Europe was kind of my idea…” he admitted. “And… so was starting in Italy.”

“So you came to see me.” I would have denied the thrill that went through me at the thought, but it was there nonetheless.

“Is that bad?” He kissed the top of my head.

“No.” I settled my cheek against his chest. “Yes… I don’t know.” I paused, thinking, and decided to just come out and ask. “What happened, Mason?”

“What do you mean?”

I hesitated. “When I left, you weren’t too interested in much of anything, except hanging out with Darron and playing D amp;D. Now you’re here in Italy talking about expanding your father’s business. So… what happened?”

He was quiet for a moment, and then his arms tightened around me and he said, “I lost you. That’s what happened.”

I could barely breathe.

“You weren’t the only one hurting you know,” he reminded me, his voice low. “But you leaving… that was a wake-up call for me. At first, I tried to just keep doing what I’d always done. What my parents wanted me to do.” He sounded angry, bitter. I winced. “But I couldn’t. You took my whole world with you, and I had to get it back. At least, I had to try.”

“How did you know I’d take you back?”

“I didn’t.” He chuckled. “I’m as surprised as you are that I’m here in your bed, you know.”

“Are you?”

“I fully expected you to slam the door in my face.”

I laughed. “And you came anyway?”

“Yes.” His arms tightened around me.

I was thinking about Nico. Mason felt so good, familiar-comfortable. Being in his arms was like coming home. But what was I going to do? I couldn’t just drop everything because Mason had come for me. Besides, the problems we’d always dealt with would resurface, I was sure of it. Why wouldn’t they?

Unless Mason really had changed…

I sighed. “I just don’t know how this is going to work.”

“Let’s just see where things go, okay?” His fingertips brushed over my arm and shoulder, making me shiver. “I’ll be here. We can talk. Take it one day at a time. See what happens.”

I shrugged, doubtful still. “If you say so.”

“I also wanted to ask you a favor…”

“Uh-oh.” I rolled my eyes. “Here we go.”

“Doubting Thomas.” He laughed. “Actually, I’d like to offer you a job.”

“A… job?”

“I need an interpreter,” he explained. “I’m going to hire one anyway, but I thought you might like the extra cash.”

I half-sat, blinking at him. “Is this a bribe?”

“No strings attached, I promise.” He crossed his heart. “Would you be willing to work with me?”

“I don’t know.” I frowned.

“Work on us?”

“Oh, Mason…” I snuggled up again, closing my eyes, wishing I could believe.

“Let’s sleep on it.” He kissed my forehead and that’s just what we did.

“Phone.” Mason nudged me but I was only half-awake. I buried my head under my pillow and snuggled more deeply under the covers. “Dani, phone.”

It was only when he reached for it that I reacted, practically leaping over him to grab it. I fell onto the floor, still naked, shivering in the transition from warm covers to cold air.

“Hello?” I gasped, already dragging the phone on its long cord toward the bathroom.

“Morning, bella.” The sound of Nico’s voice made me flush and I closed the door behind me.

“Hi.” I whispered.

“Did I wake you? It’s almost noon.”

“Is it?” I blinked at the sunlight streaming through my bathroom window. I’d been up far too late, and had been woken up, several times, in the middle of the night. Of course, I couldn’t exactly tell him what I’d been doing, now could I?

“Are you sick?”

“No, I’m fine,” I protested.

“You sound hoarse.”

Of course I did. I was whispering. “I should go.”

“But I want to talk to you.”

Mason knocked on the door. “Dani?”

Oh crap.

“Later,” I whispered, closing my eyes and praying for a miracle. “Meet me at the Mood Cafe in an hour.”

I hung up the phone just as Mason knocked again, louder this time. “Dani, are you okay?”

“Fine!” I called brightly, standing and opening the door.

“Who was that?”

“I had a study group at noon,” I lied. “They were wondering where I was.”

“Why did you take the phone into the bathroom.”

“I had to pee.” I lied. “You know me, as soon as I get up, I have to go.” In fact, I had to go now. “Listen, I have to hop in the shower and get ready to go. Will you be okay here for a few hours?”

He shrugged. “I’ll just go get myself some lunch.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’ve got my English/Italian dictionary, don’t I?” He grinned. “And I can say hamburger e patatine fritte.”

I laughed. “That will get you a hamburger and fries.”

“Then I’m all set.”

I rushed through my shower, put on jeans and a t-shirt and grabbed my jacket, calling out to Mason, who was now in the shower himself, that I was leaving.

“I left a key on the table,” I called, peeking behind the curtain. His hair was all soapy, and the sight of the suds dripping down his chest, over the flat, ridges muscles of his abdomen, made my breath catch. I didn’t dare let my gaze dip lower.

“Thanks.” He rinsed, rubbing his eyes and blinking at me. He saw the way I was looking at him and grinned. “Sure you can’t stay a while?”

I thought of Nico waiting for me at the cafe and sighed. “Later. I’ll be back in a few hours. Can you feed Jezebel?”

“Sure.”

Nico was waiting already, although I was right on time. He smiled as I approached, rising to kiss my cheek and pull out my chair.

“Don’t say anything.” He held up a finger as I opened my mouth, which was probably a good thing, because I wasn’t sure what I was going to say anyway. “I want to apologize.”

I just sat and ordered a vanilla Coke, waiting for Nico to continue.

“You’re right, this whole trying to find a place for us is crazy.” He reached over and took my hand. “And you have become far more important to me than my mother or my family. I want you to know that.”

“Nico…”

“No, wait.” He turned my hand over in his, tracing the lines of my palm with his finger. “I’m going to look for a place. My own place. So we can stop this sneaking around.”

I blinked at him, stunned. I probably would have jumped up and hugged him if he’d delivered this news a few days ago. Now I could just sit and stare, a growing pit of anxiety settling in my stomach.

“I…” What could I say? I’d come here with the intention of telling him about Mason. I knew I should tell him the whole story, my entire history, strip myself bare before him.

The waiter came and I sipped my Coke, grateful for the interruption. He asked if we wanted to order food, but Nico paid for our drinks, telling him no.

“I’m hungry,” I protested.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled, standing and reaching for my hand.

“Where are we going?”

The gondola was waiting and he helped me into it.

“Al Ponte Antico.”

I stared at him. “The… hotel?”

“I rented a suite for the night.”

“But…” I thought of Mason, waiting for me back at my flat. What in the hell was I going to do now?

“It’s Saturday,” he reminded me. “You don’t have class.”

“No…” I swallowed, trying to think of something, anything.

“And I’m taking the day off.” He grinned down at me, triumphant. “Aren’t you happy?”

“Yes.” I bit my lip, seeing the glint in his eyes. “Of course I am.”

And part of me was. The other part of me was panicking like a kid realizing their winter sled was hurtling downhill off a cliff.

The hotel was one of the most expensive in Venice and I knew he must have practically emptied his savings account to afford it. Nico remarked on my suddenly quiet demeanor, but the truth was, I was overwhelmed with guilt. How could I possibly tell him no? But if I didn’t… what in the world was I going to do about Mason, back in my little room, with Cara Lucia patrolling the hallways?

“Do you want to eat first?” Nico offered, carrying a bag over his shoulder as we headed to the room.

Suddenly it occurred to me. “I don’t have a change of clothes.”

He smiled, taking out the key. “I took care of that.”

“How?” I followed him down the hallway.

“I bought you a few things.” He held up the bag as he worked the key in the door lock.

“Nico!” I blinked at him, still shocked by his revelation, and even more bowled over by the room when he opened the door. The suite was large, oriental rugs on the floors and a gold, ornate headboard over the huge bed. I couldn’t help rushing to the window, the sweeping view of the Grand Canal breathtaking before us, as if we could just walk out onto the water.

“You belong here.” Nico’s breath against the nape of my neck made me shiver.

“In Al Ponte Antico?”

“In Italy.” His arms went around my waist. “With me.”

And I knew he was right. My whole life I’d dreamed of this, living in the city where the streets were made of water and the buildings held the secrets of an ancient history like a pent up breath. There was no more beautiful, vibrant, living place for me than Venice, and I couldn’t imagine myself living anywhere else.

What was I going to do?

“Stay with me, Dani.” Nico nuzzled me, his words melting my heart. “I can’t live here without you anymore.”

“Don’t say that.” I turned, twining my arms around his neck. “We hardly know each other…”

He shook his head, his smile knowing and telling at the same time. “We know everything we need to know. And you know it.”

I did.

He kissed me, soft and slow and sweet, breathing me in. What girl could say no to him?

“I have something for you.” He went to his bag and dug through, holding a brown package out to me. “My sister helped me gauge your size.”

I looked at him, smiling. “What is it?”

“Something for you.” He sat down in one of the chairs, looking up at me, slowly unzipping his jeans. “And for me…”

“You want me to open it?”

“Go to the bathroom and put it on.”

I couldn’t resist. It was the finest, silkiest, sexiest lingerie I’d ever seen, all black. The corset had straps on the bottom for the silk stockings, the thong was black with two straps across each side and there were even a pair of sexy black heels included-just my size.

I knew he was out there waiting for me, but I took the time to clean up a bit once I had stripped down. Then I tried it all on, looking at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door, my breasts pushed up by the corset, nipples pursed and hard, my legs long and shapely, the heels making them even moreso.

When I opened the door, I found Nico still sitting in the chair still mostly dressed, his cock out, hard in his hand, waiting for me. His eyes darkened as I approached, his gaze sweeping over me in the outfit he’d chosen.

“You like what you see?” I cocked one hip, my hand resting there, smiling down at him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said simply. “Turn around.”

I did as he asked, turning in a full, slow circle, facing him again.

“Bellisimo.” His cock was fisted tightly in his hand and just the sight of it made my knees weak. “I don’t know if I should fuck you or eat you.”

I grinned. “You can always do both.”

“Good idea.” He grabbed my hips, twisting me so my back was to him, using the flat of his hand to bend me forward. “Grab your ankles.”

I did, the blood rushing to my head, making me dizzy, my long, dark hair grazing the floor.

“You like the shoes?” His hands roamed over my ass, snapping the thong, moving down the smooth silk stockings on my legs.

“Love them,” I admitted, and from this angle, I had a great view. They were definitely Italian in design, and not cheap. “Nico, you spoil me.”

“I’ve only just begun.” His fingers moved my panties aside and he slipped his tongue between my pussy lips from behind, spreading my ass with his palms.

I gasped at the sensation, the sweet press of his mouth against my flesh so overwhelming I almost lost my balance. He steadied me, spreading my legs wider, his tongue plunging, tasting me deeply. My thighs quivered and I gripped my ankles more tightly, arching my back to give him better access. He chuckled, running his tongue up and down my slit, making me moan and wiggle back against him.

“Oh god, I’m gonna pass out.”

“We can’t have that.” He pulled me back to sit in his lap, the teeth on the open zipper of his jeans biting my thighs, his hands tight on my hips. He rocked me against his cock. I could feel it pressed against the crack of my ass, riding along the string of the thong between my legs.

“You’re going to put a run in my stockings.”

He chuckled, reaching for the garter straps, undoing the front and then the back on my left leg, his hand sliding under the material, down the inside of my thigh. I shivered, closing my eyes, as his hand moved back up, cupping my mound and rocking me. His cock was so hard it felt like granite between us.

Then he undid the other one, his hand moving down the smooth expanse of my inner thigh to slide the stocking down, moving back up to nestle my mound in the palm of his hand. I turned my head and found his mouth, kissing him deeply, his tongue twining with mine. His hands moved up my waist, over the corset, fondling my breasts, our hips grinding in the chair.

“You’re so beautiful,” he gasped when we broke our kiss, looking down at me sprawled across his lap.

I lifted one of my legs, pulling my knee back so I could work the strap on my left shoe. It dropped to the floor and I slid the stocking down my calf. Then I did the other one, slowly sliding the stocking down to my ankle, Nico watching it the whole way. Then he stood me up again, this time turning me to face him, hands roaming over the length of my bare legs, up my hips to my breasts and back down again.

“Put the shoes back on.”

I smiled, stepping back into them and buckling the straps, two on the outside of each high heel.

“Spread your legs.”

I did, my hips jutting forward, watching his hand move up and down the length of his shaft as he looked up at me. His eyes were dark with lust, his lips slightly parted, so sexy sitting there with his jeans undone just enough for his cock to escape, his white button-down shirt untucked. I couldn’t think about anything else except how much I wanted him.

“Touch yourself.” His gaze fell between my legs to where the black triangle of the thong barely covered the swell of my bare pussy lips. “I want to watch.”

I slipped my hand under the elastic, my pussy already wet from his tongue, slippery with my juices. I found the hard button of my clit with one hand, nudging it back and forth, watching his eyes light up as I traced my nipple with my fingernail, making it pucker. I teased my pussy, making my first two fingers into a V and letting them ride down around the nub of my clit, rubbing myself like that, my hips rocking.

“Let me see.” Nico pulled the thong aside, biting his lip when he saw how my swollen pussy lips were parted for the press of my fingers. I slid the panties down to my ankles, stepping out of them, spreading my legs even wider this time. He groaned as I lifted my fingers to my mouth, licking my juices off them, sucking on them before sliding my hand back down to pay more attention to my pussy.

“Put your fingers inside,” he said, his breath coming in short pants, his hand moving faster up and down the length of his cock.

I put one high heel up on the arm of his chair, giving him a full view. “You do it.”

“Holy fuck.” He said this in English, his eyes glazed with hunger, on eye-level with my pussy. He parted me with his fingers, working them slowly in and then out, watching himself finger me. I rolled my hips forward, giving him better access, my head going back, a low moan escaping my throat. He was incredibly skilled, thumbing my clit as he rocked his hand against my pussy, his fingers doing things inside of me that drove me crazy.

“Sit on my face, Dani.” He pulled me toward him. “I have to taste you.”

He positioned me, knees on the arm of the chair, hands gripping the back, his mouth covering my slippery mound. His tongue worked its way to my clit, his fingers finding their mark again inside of me, the other hand cupping my breast, thumbing my nipple, a trifecta of sensation. My thighs quivered, my belly undulating, coming so close to climax I could almost taste it.

“Please,” I begged, my whole body tense, rocking. “Oh god, please! Please!”

Nico took me there, sucking my clit hard into his mouth, manipulating it with his tongue, making my pussy spasm in release around his plunging fingers. I cried out, my nails digging into the back of the chair, grinding my hips, shoving my whole pussy against his greedy mouth.

“Oh god!” I cried, shuddering still, sinking to the floor between his knees, now eye-level with his cock. I looked up to see his face glistening with my juices, his cock jutting up like a mast with no sail, waiting to be taken for a ride, and I couldn’t resist. Still dazed from my own orgasm, I took him into my mouth, the head slick with precum.

His hand moved through my hair, guiding me up and down his length, his hips beginning to thrust in rhythm. I made soft, happy noises in my throat, my nipples grazing his jean-clad thighs as I took his cock between my lips again and again, feeling the thick length of him sliding against my tongue. My pussy was still throbbing for him. I couldn’t believe how much he made me want him.

“I want you inside me.” I slapped the head of his cock against my cheek, teasing the tip with my tongue. “Fuck me. Please.”

“Your wish is my command,” he said in English. “Stand up.”

I did, and he stood with me, kissing me deeply, letting me taste my pussy on his tongue. Then he turned me around, pushing me further into the room. I thought he was taking me to the bed, but he walked me past it, toward the windows. They were covered by filmy white curtains, but he opened them, making me gasp and move to cover myself.

“I want the whole world to see you, bella,” he whispered into my ear from behind me, his cock riding between the crack of my ass as he pressed me up against the window. The view of the Grand Canal was beautiful, the sun glinting off the water, a water-taxi passing by as I watched. I was topless, the corset pushing my breasts up against the window sill.

“You’re crazy!” I gasped, but he threw the window open wide, and we both might have fallen out if it weren’t for the railing between us and the wide waterway. I grasped it, crying out as Nico shoved his cock into me from behind, thrusting up hard. His hand grabbed my hips for leverage, fucking me hard and deep and fast.

“Wait!” I cried, but he wouldn’t, and I couldn’t do anything but hang on, my breasts swaying in the cool April breeze, knowing that anyone could see us. “Oh god, no, no…”

“You feel so good,” he moaned, leaning over me, his pelvis molded to my ass, his cock buried to the hilt. “I’m going to come so hard inside of you.”

I moaned and gave in to the sensation, my knuckles gripping the railing so hard they were white, going up on my tiptoes, even in heels, to take more of him, all of him, as deeply as I could. My pussy swallowed him up like it had been starving for him, as hungry as I was for his cock, his cum. I fucked him back, grinding my ass into the saddle of his hips, crying out, not caring anymore who heard us, who saw.

“Make me come all over your cock!” I panted, not daring to close my eyes, even as close as I was to climax. The water lapped at the cement below us, licking the sides of the seawall like a dirty wet tongue. “Oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come!”

He grunted and fucked me harder, deeper, a hand on my shoulder now for even better purchase. I could barely hold onto the railing, my back arched, my pussy stretched wide for the thrust of his cock. I was lost, gone, being fucked on the banks of the Grand Canal in Venice and about to have the most intense orgasm of my life.

And I almost said Mason’s name.

It hovered on my lips, a low “Mmmmmmm” in my throat, and I kept it there, muffling my cries.

My climax hit like a shockwave, shuddering through me. If he hadn’t had me around the waist with one arm, I would have collapsed to my knees. My pussy clamped down on his swollen length, the motion just enough to send him over with me. I rode the pleasure waves, letting them wash over me again and again.

“Oh my god,” I gasped, feeling him slipping out of me, turning in his arms. He was grinning, panting, his eyes half closed, swinging the window shut and pulling me into his arms.

“You’re so incredible.” He kissed my cheek, my temple, my jaw, pulling me up so tight my feet left the floor. “I could eat you up.”

“You’re crazy.” I was laughing now in his arms, my heart still beating like bird’s wings in my chest. “You know that? You’re just crazy.”

“Crazy for you, yes.” He kissed me and I could feel the smile still on his lips. “Are you glad I rented the room now?”

I glanced back at the window, not open now, but the curtains still open. I wondered how many people had seen us, if the hotel would get calls or complaints.

“I’m not sorry,” I admitted, my weak knees finally giving out. I collapsed in the chair behind me, looking up at him with a half-smile.

“I’m glad.” He slid his jeans down his hips and I raised an eyebrow. He laughed. “I’m just going to take a shower before we go eat. Unless you want to go again…?”

I groaned, shaking my head. “Not yet.”

“But many more times,” he promised, a hand moving through my hair. “Today, tonight, tomorrow…”

I smiled, but guilt twisted a knife in my belly and I gritted my teeth through the pain as Nico went to the bathroom. I looked down at my outfit, cold now, and shivered. All I could think of was Mason, waiting back at my flat. I’d left him there to come here with Nico and had spent god only knows how long having sex. Now how was I supposed to tell Mason I wasn’t coming back tonight? Or how was I supposed to tell Nico I had to leave?

It was impossible.

I heard Nico turn on the shower and I ran over and flung myself across the bed, reaching for the telephone, knowing I didn’t have long.

“Hey, there you are!” Mason’s voice was warm and my body’s temperature changed the moment I heard it. “I was starting to get worried.”

“I’m sorry, I got caught up,” I said, keeping my voice low.

“So, where do you want to go to dinner?”

“Well, the thing is…” I glanced toward the bathroom door and prayed Nico didn’t open it. What was I going to say? How was I going to get out of this? It didn’t occur to me that I should have had a plan before I picked up the phone to call.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I just…”

Then my worst nightmare came true.

Nico came out of the bathroom, fully nude, heading for his bag next to the bed when he noticed I had the phone in my hand.

“Who’s that?” he inquired. “Room service?”

I could have covered the mouthpiece and lied, continued with the ruse, but I didn’t have the heart-or the stomach-to do it anymore.

“Mason, I’ll call you right back.” I hung up the phone, looked at Nico, and told him the truth. “That was my ex-husband.”

“Your…what?” He blinked at me.

“I’m sorry.” I patted the bed, urging him to come sit. “I should have told you before.”

He joined me on the bed. “But he’s your ex — husband.”

“Yes. We’ve been divorced for a year or so. But he’s here in Italy. He came last night.”

“Why?” His face said he already knew the answer, and so did I.

“He says he has business here, but I think…” I sighed. “The truth is, he wants me back.”

“Bella…” He turned me toward him, his eyes soft, a little wet. I pretended not to notice. “I want you too.”

“I know.” I looked down at the carpet. “That’s the problem.” I stood, starting to dress. “I have to go.”

“Please stay.”

I found my panties and bra in the bathroom, my jeans in a ball on the floor. “I can’t.”

“Are you going to him?” he asked, watching me pull on my t-shirt, slip on my shoes.

“No…” I hesitated at the doorway, looking back at him. “I don’t know. I just need to go somewhere to think for a while.”

“I’ll be here.” He looked so sad, so vulnerable, just sitting there on the hotel room bed, that same bed he’d hoped we’d spend the night in. I thought the guilt couldn’t get worse, and then he said, “I love you.”

“I have to go.” I pulled the door open and practically ran out.