Page 30 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

LORENA

“ I think he came.”

Sarina stands in front of me in the doorway of her apartment, rubbing her tired eyes.

“Wait, hold on a second. I just woke up so let’s rewind. Who came? He as in…”

“Santino.” I step forward, moving past her, into her apartment.

Sarina shuts the door, scurrying her steps to catch up to where I’m pacing back and forth in front of her couch. The same couch we were watching Tino on TV not too long ago, both commenting on his package…that I felt for myself . Finally .

“Holy fucking shit, that didn’t take long.” Sarina wraps her hand around my arm, putting a halt on my pacing.

“Tell me about it,” I huff.

“I know!” Sarina squeals, letting go of my arm and nudging it with her elbow instead.

When I don’t return her playful gesture, she guides me to the couch to sit. I have so much nervous energy that now, instead of pacing, I cross my arms, and my legs begin to bounce, as I look forward. My reflection staring back at me through the blank TV.

“Okay…” Sarina drags, assessing me up and down. “Your lipstick is smeared. Not a lot but just enough that I’d venture to say that you kissed him.”

“Yes. Well, kind of. He kissed me.”

And I let him, even though his Pretty Woman joke wasn’t off base.

In my quest of getting off without strings and emotions attached, I’ve stayed true to my no kissing shtick.

That was until he slid his tongue in my mouth, so sensually that even though I felt the weight of my rules crumbling in real time, I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to.

“Your makeup is otherwise intact, but that doesn’t mean anything per se, you’ve always been one for waterproof makeup, so he could’ve fucked your brains out or choked you with that yardstick he passes for a cock and your makeup likely wouldn’t budge.

However, the flush on your cheeks tells a different story, and then, let’s not forget the opener of you saying you think he came, which has my mind going wild with what happened or didn’t to make you think he did. ”

“Yes,” is all I can say.

“Yes? That’s all you got? Please. Spill bitch. Better yet, follow me.” Sarina grabs my hand and walks us into her kitchen. I take a seat at the small round table she has in front of the window, immediately opening it so I can get some air.

A few seconds later, Sarina meets me at the table, sitting across from me with wine glasses and a bottle of Chianti.

“Oh no, I’m good.”

Ignoring me, she opens the bottle, pouring us two generous glasses.

She slides a glass my way. “Bullshit,” she says, holding the glass by the stem, she lifts it. “Saluti,” she cheers.

I take a gulp of wine listening to Sarina rattle off question after question.

“Soo… were our suspicions correct? Is he hung like a god? Is it veiny? Ah, I bet it’s veiny.

How big are we talking?” Déjà vu hits me as I feel like I’m watching the episode of New Girl when Schmidt is moving his hands apart asking Jess how big Nick’s dick is.

Dramatic as ever, she has all his mannerisms down, still rattling off questions and commentary.

“And what do you mean you think he came? Ew, did he fake it? Is that even a thing for guys?”

I lift my hand for her to stop, laughing as I do.

“Damn, you know for someone who was just asleep, you perked up real quick.”

“Bitch, this is Santino fucking Amato we’re talking about. Arguably the hottest chef in the city, and on the Culinary Network, of course I perked up.”

“Calm down, Ri.” My voice muffled against the wine glass as I take another sip.

“I will not,” she says playfully before raising both her hands up. “I just get excited is all, it’s not every day that one of your best friend’s gets to fuck a celebrity.”

Tino’s celebrity status is just one of the many things that worries me.

And given the way Marty told me Tino had some of his staff quit, and seeing that we were walked in on out in the alleyway, who knows how they feel about him, or who they’ll tell.

This is a publicist’s nightmare, and lucky me, I’m the publicist that helped cause said nightmare.

“I’m not fucking him. He just went down on me.”

Sarina claps. “How was it?”

“No one has ever eaten me out like that.”

It’s the truth, I’m literally pulsing just thinking about it.

“Shut up, I’m dying, and his tongue is pierced too.” Sarina creates a spread peace sign with her index and middle finger to her lips, flailing her tongue around to emphasize her point.

Sarina is very much like me. She avoids relationships like the plague, opting for casual sex without commitment or any strings attached.

Though unlike my unprocessed trauma from grief that has made me fearful of relationships, Sarina’s anti-relationship stance stemmed from a bad break-up from a horrible ex-boyfriend.

As well as the fact that her overbearing dad is constantly telling her that she needs to settle down.

And one thing about Sarina is that when you tell her what to do, she will do the exact opposite out of spite.

Exchanging stories of our hook-ups is nothing new for us. Although I’ve never witnessed Sarina this excited to hear all the torrid details.

“How did that piercing feel?”

“Amazing,” I say, unable to lie, and for the first time since I left Cielo + Cibo tonight, I allow myself to smile, despite the storm I feel brewing inside of me, sitting with the gravity of not only what we did, but with what Tino suggested – or begged is more like it – that we continue to do.

“Ah, fuck yes. He went down on you first?”

“Yes.”

“Love a gentleman that wants his partner to come before he does.”

“Twice,” I interrupt her, sipping my wine.

“Excuse me?” Her voice lights up.

“He made me come twice.”

“Of course he did.” Sarina is squealing with giddiness at this point. “You can just tell he has this passionate, giving aura to him. I love this for you. Where did this all go down?”

Gulping down the rest of the wine, preparing myself for the onslaught of excited questions that will undoubtably come next, I respond. “Outside of his restaurant.”

As predicted, Sarina gasps. Placing her wine glass on the table, she claps her hands. “That’s my girl,” she says with pride, running a hand through her hair.

“It was in the alleyway in the back of the restaurant.” I place my wine glass down, kneading my forehead with my hands. The complicated web this is spinning is too much for me to process right now.

Sarina snaps her fingers wrangling my attention back to her. “You’re stuck in your head. I know you. Take a deep breath, polish off the rest of your glass so I can pour you another, and then lets circle back to how you think he came and how you think you two aren’t fucking.”

“We’re not,” I say, trying to convince myself.

I finish what’s left in my wine glass, and as Sarina pours another, I go on and words begin to pour out of me.

First, I divulge the whole Tino knew Owen, Tino hates Owen, and Owen hates Tino thing that led to the whole bidding war.

And as if that wasn’t enough of an info dump, I continue.

This is what Sarina wanted right? The scoop and details, and now that the floodgates have opened, that’s what she’s going to get.

“Anyway, after Tino saw me with him at Cielo + Cibo, and he made this whole scene, which I’m hoping doesn’t end up all over social media, and we went outside.

One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was two orgasms in.

One with the wearable vibrator Owen had me wear, that Tino took the remote to, and then the other was when he tied my hands up with his apron while he ate me out. ”

Sarina’s jaw is practically hanging when I’m done. “Holy shit. That’s a lot.”

“I know.”

“Whose idea was it to go to Cielo + Cibo?” she asks

My brows lower into a straight line. “Who do you think?”

Sarina snaps her fingers as she tries to recall the ridiculous contact name in my phone for Owen.

“Current Fuck-Real Estate Guy?” she asks, amused.

“Yes. I had no idea that him and Tino had beef. Over me no less. I didn’t even know until today that Owen was from Co-op City.

Apparently, he wanted to take me to prom or was saying something about me back in the day.

Tino overheard, and as Tino does, he flipped out and punched him.

As you could imagine that didn’t go over well with Owen, so getting with me was his way of getting back at Tino. ”

“This is so messy… and I’m fucking living for it.

” Sarina does a dramatic half-fold on the table, bowing her head, groaning.

“That’s so fucking hot, that he enjoyed your pussy so much he couldn’t contain himself.

” Fanning herself, she continues. “Now that you two finally got that out of the way, it’s only a matter of time before you can experience what we’ve been eyeing.

You need to text me as soon as you get home, after he jumps your bones.

I want every detail. I mean it. Every detail. I need to know all of it.”

“Actually,” I singsong.

Being that we’re best friends, Sarina picks up on all my idiosyncrasies, she can already sense what’s coming, and she preemptively starts clicking her tongue. “Lorena,” she scolds.

“I was thinking I can stay here tonight.”

“Lorena!”

“Or the next couple of nights.” I shrug, wincing as I do. “Just until things blow over.”

“Please, you know just as well as I do that things won’t blow over. The match is already lit; you need to offer him your wick to light it and become one.”

We both burst out into laughter at the analogy.

“Fuck me, I sound ridiculous. I blame the daily affirmation cards I’ve been using. They make me sound like a wannabe poet.”

“They kind of do,” I say in between laughing. “But I love it, plus it’s oddly fitting.”

Oh no. Why did I say that?

“What, the candle bit?” Sarina asks.

“No,” I quickly say, but it’s too late, she’s on to me and my big fucking mouth. I don’t know what Tino’s tongue did to me, but I feel like I’m just one big case of word vomit waiting to happen.