Page 17 of The Italian Obsession

It’s been way too long.

I close my eyes as his hands explore every inch of my back and legs.

“Roll over, baby.”

Baby! That sounds good.

I hold my bikini top to my breasts and roll onto my back. His eyes are dark and filled with desire. He reapplies sunscreen to his hand and leans on his elbow beside me before he begins to rub more oil into my body. I scrunch my eyes shut.

Filled with nerves, I can’t watch his face as he studies me this way for the first time. He rubs his palms over my stomach, down over my hipbones and my inner thighs.

I have to concentrate hard on not spreading my legs like every instinct is screaming at me to do.

“Olivia,” he whispers. “Creamy, white, perfect skin.” His voice is almost a purr and it does things to my insides. “These curves.” He hisses in approval, and his hand slides under my bikini top as he cups my breast, momentarily losing focus.

“The sun doesn’t reach there.” I smile.

“Ah.” He pulls his hand out. “That’s right, sorry. I got carried away.”

I giggle, and I hear the oil being poured out again. “Don’t I have enough on?” I ask.

“No, I’ll probably have to do this all day.” His hand falls back to my stomach, moving in circles.

I laugh and feel myself begin to relax… oh, I really like him. I know I could go into this weekend being shy and mousy with a stranger—which is what I would normally do—but it always ends the same way with every guy. We meet, go along happily, but when push comes to shove, I block him out and push him away. I’ve had many opportunities over the years to sleep around. I’ve just never felt the need before. This time feels different, and perhaps I could go into this weekend pretending that I already know Rico better than I really do.

I love sex. I love making love. I love everything about the beautiful male body. Damn, I’ve missed it. I may have only been with two men, but they spoiled me sexually. They were the best teachers a girl could have ever asked for. I was sexually compatible with both of them, and it broke my heart that neither of them could hold me mentally. I loved both for different reasons, but I never felt complete, not even when I was safely in their arms. Something has always been missing in my life; an invisible barrier, holding me back from moving forward. I don’t know if it’s my career, or lack of travel or experience. Perhaps it’s what my best friend Natalie thinks, and I really do have a hang-up from my childhood after living through a divorce.

Maybe I’ll never get over my disappointment from my parents’ divorce. I don’t know. It was a case of it’s me, not you with both of them.

They were perfect… just not perfect for me.

I’m brought back to the moment as Rico’s hand skims my hip bone, and he inhales sharply. I can feel his arousal through his hands; he’s on the edge.

Why does it feel so good driving a man wild with need for my body?

The power is like a drug to my system, and screw it, I’m going to make it my mission to make him out of control. I may just be another notch on his Italian bedpost, but I’m going to make sure he remembers me. I’m going to get an axe and chop his fucking bedpost down. I arch my back and spread my legs a little.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been touched,” I whisper.

Rico’s eyes darken and his lips slowly part. I know he’s imagining touching me there.

“How long?” he breathes.

“Over twelve months.”

He frowns, as if puzzled by the notion. “How the fuck do you go without sex for twelve months, Olivia?”

I love the way he says my name. With his accent, he says it with four syllables.

Ol-liv-i-ah.

I arch my back again. “With great difficulty,” I whisper as I stare up at him. I can feel my sex as it throbs. Aching…

“You’re making it very hard for me to behave,” he mutters as his hand slides underneath my bikini top once more. My nipple peaks with excitement, and he rolls it between his fingertips.

“Maybe I don’t want you to,” I whisper.

“Maybe I need to take you home.”