Page 19

18

SAbrINA

T he sky is dark and I’m helping my mother clean up the kitchen when Cale’s pickup truck finally pulls up to the curb in front of the house.

Mama is already waiting with the kitchen door open as Monte strolls in with three foil-covered pie plates balanced in his hands. There’s dirt on his right cheek, which still shows a bruise from his clash with Vittorio’s men. More dirt is smudged on the knees of his jeans and the front of his shirt. His baseball cap has been flipped backwards.

He looks sweaty and sexy and beyond excellent. If my phone was handy, I’d snap a picture.

“What’s all of this?” Mama gestures to the food in his hands. “I made dinner. There’s a plate of eggplant for you in the fridge.”

“Pies from Peggy.” Monte sets them down on the counter. “Peggy claims we’re all skin and bones so we clearly need to eat more.”

Mama looks miffed over the insinuation that her family must be hungry. That’s the kind of accusation she takes very personally.

Monte removes his Yankees cap and gives me a smile. My ovaries convulse.

“Sabrina,” Mama says with a sharp clap of her hands. “You’re wasting water.”

Guilty. I was so busy gaping at Monte that I just left the kitchen faucet running full blast.

Monte leans against the counter, mere inches away. He crosses his thick arms and his dark eyes remain intently fixed on me while I shut the water off and fold a yellow dishtowel.

“Sit,” Mama orders once she retrieves Monte’s dinner from the fridge. “Do you want some grated parmesan?”

“Sure,” Monte says without shifting his eyes. “Thanks.”

Mama happily sets a place for him at the table and covers his food with a tablespoon of grated cheese. “Sabrina helped with dinner,” she says with pride.

“Is that right?” Monte, never one to feel shame, deliberately lets his gaze flicker over my boobs.

I shift my position, arching closer to give him a better view. “I dipped the eggplant slices in breadcrumbs.”

Monte clucks his tongue. “That must have made such a mess out of you, Brina.”

And I choke on thin air.

This must be something only I am capable of doing. In my defense, I wasn’t prepared to hear him casually repeat some of the words he said in my ear last night.

“Look what happened, Brina. I made such a mess out of you…”

A bolt of sex-fueled angst flips my belly over. My thighs clench together. All possible comebacks melt into garbled soup inside my head.

Monte notes my reaction with a smirk. He bends down and kisses my cheek. He smells like grass and damp soil and testosterone. I come pretty close to moaning out loud.

Meanwhile, Mama is beaming at the sight of this casual display of affection between us. She pulls Monte’s chair out and commands him to sit. She’s taken quite a liking to Monte and continues to hover over him until he forks up a few bites of eggplant parmesan.

He chews slowly and swallows a bite. “The sauce is really good. You made it from scratch, huh?”

She practically jumps up and down. “You can tell!”

He nods. “I know the taste of San Marzano peeled tomatoes. It’s a staple at Gino’s. My dad buys the imported cans by the gross.”

My mother gazes at him with adoration and watches him eat until there’s a burbling cry from the baby monitor sitting on the counter. Then she’s spurred into action and rushes out of the room to tend to her granddaughter.

I take a thin slice of the ciabatta bread left over from dinner and nibble on the crusty edge. “Well done. Homemade sauce is her love language.”

Monte sets his water glass down and intentionally lets his gaze wander over my body until I start to fidget. “I’m more interested in your love language.”

I take the bread away from my mouth. “Didn’t we discuss that topic last night? By the way, it seems that every adult in the house heard us, uh… talking .”

His eyebrows shoot up and he mulls this new information over before busting up with laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I grumble, still feeling the sting over Luca’s teasing comments this afternoon.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head and dives back into his food. “You’re just awful cute.”

Monte finishes the remaining bites on his plate but sidesteps me on the way to the sink when I try to take his dishes. “Do you know how hard my dad would smack me in the head if he saw me passing off my dirty dishes to a lady? I’ll deal with them.” He flips the faucet on. “Where’s Luca and Anni?”

“They turned in early. My mother stays up all hours anyway so she’s taking care of Jane.”

He scrubs his plate and sets it on the drying rack. “Guess this means I’ve got you all to myself, Gamer Girl.”

He utters those words so calmly, as if he didn’t just ignite a massive sexual tension inferno. To be fair, the fire has already been simmering all day.

Monte abruptly pulls off his shirt. He wipes his face with it. “I’ve been in the dirt all day so I’m gonna take a shower.”

I’m instantly obsessed with his bare tan chest. He’s flawlessly defined, randomly decorated with dark tattoos. His gold cross hangs around his neck.

Naturally, I’ve seen Monte without his shirt before. But in that ‘before’ time, I wasn’t intimately acquainted with his lips, his tongue and the seductive weight of his body on top of mine.

“Want to join me?” he says with a wink.

“Where?” I whisper. Because my brain matter has evaporated.

Monte balls his shirt up with one hand. With the other, he hooks a thumb into the waistband of his jeans and drags it down an inch.

“In the shower, Sabrina,” he says and casually runs his hand over the front of his jeans to highlight the bulge, which is substantial.

“Now?” I ask, which might be the stupidest response I could have come up with.

Monte shrugs. “Or you can just watch if you want.”

Oh, yes. I do want that very much.

“I’ve got to do laundry,” I blurt out.

And just like that, I’ve killed the moment.

What’s my problem?

It’s not as if I’ve never met Monte’s dick before. I’m a huge admirer of that part of his body and I had some very exciting experiences with it lately.

All day long I’ve been thinking about him. Every scene from last light has been replaying in my head nonstop.

I want to be with Monte.

I want to immediately say yes when he flashes that wicked grin and invites me to do naked things.

I want to be daring. Sexy.

I want this stupid fucking monologue to quit running through my head as I stand in my sister’s kitchen blushing like a weirdo, as if Monte and I didn’t have Almost Sex last night.

Instead, I break the silence by saying, “I can throw your clothes into the washer with mine.”

Pathetic. Maybe I should hire a flirtation coach.

“Thanks,” Monte says and opens his pants.

“No, wait!” I wave my arms around to stop him from undressing in the kitchen. “You can just leave your clothes in the bedroom. I’ll throw them in the wash with mine while you’re in the shower. Then we can go to bed. Together. Or something. Maybe. If you want to.”

Normally my verbal skills aren’t quite so terrible.

Monte is no longer about to drop his pants. His eyes linger on my lips. His voice is low and magnetic, humming with seduction. “Of course I want to. I’ve been waiting to be with you all day.”

Rather than await another of my awkward responses, he saunters out of the kitchen and down the hall. I remain frozen at the sink with my heart racing as I mentally kick myself for all the things I should have said.

Sexually charged banter is something Monte and I excel at when we’re together. Why should I get nervous now?

Because now it’s for real.

I twist the wedding ring on my left hand. Normally, I don’t wear much jewelry and the only reason why I’ve been wearing the ring is because my mother expects to see it on my finger.

Mama walks into the kitchen while I’m still brooding. She’s holding Janie and asks me to grab a bottle of Anni’s carefully pumped breastmilk from the fridge.

“Where is your husband?” Mama asks.

I’m still not used to that word. Husband. Sounds so…domestic. Cozy. Intimate.

“In the shower,” I tell her as I hand the bottle over.

“Are you going to bed now?” she asks.

“Soon.”

She gives me a knowing smile. “Good night.”

When my mother leaves the kitchen with Jane, I have a choice. I can either continue to have angst here beside the sink or I can go see what Monte is doing.

The bedroom door is closed but the shower is still going and the bathroom door is open a crack, just in case I change my mind about joining him.

His dirty clothes have been left in a folded pile just outside the door. I really do need to throw in a load of laundry so I gather them up, along with the bag containing my own dirty clothes, and carry them to the laundry room at the end of the hall.

Monte is out of the shower when I return. He wears only a pair of black shorts as he stands in the middle of room and scrolls through his phone. He looks up, smiles, and tosses the phone on the bed.

When sees me lock the door, his grin gets a little cocky. “Come here, Gamer Girl.”

Without waiting, he reaches for my hand and pulls me close. He wraps his arms around me. I’m always taken aback by the size of him. He’s a foot taller and built like a muscled citadel. He needs to bend his neck forward to press his forehead to mine. One of his hands flattens across my back and the other slides up to stroke my hair.

I need to stretch to hang my arms on his shoulders. He moves his hand to the small of my back and cradles me closer, close enough to feel him hardening against my belly. My head swims and his breathing accelerates.

“Ready for bed?” He slides his thumb under the hem of my shirt.

“In a few minutes. I need to change.” Despite my attempt to sound casual, my voice squeaks.

His thumb rolls over my skin in slow circles. “Want my help?”

Cursing my own skittishness, I disentangle from him. “I’ll be right back.”

Monte watches while I push my entire suitcase into the bathroom. I’m sure I look ridiculous but I don’t know what to wear to bed. I need options.

Standing in front of the mirror above the sink, I confront my flushed reflection. With no warning, I hear the echoes of a voice I’ve tried so hard to silence.

The voice belongs to a hateful man. He berates me for eating too much junk food. He complains that I’ll ruin my figure. He laughs when I try to please him in bed. He turns on a harsh spotlight and orders me to face the mirror so I can’t hide from all the things that are wrong with me. He pressures me to stay with him forever because I’ll never be more capable or independent than a child.

“Shut up,” I whisper and push the unwanted voice back down into the recesses of my mind, buried beneath layers of good memories. I’m desperate for it to stay buried forever. And I know that it won’t.

The damage inflicted by Jeffrey isn’t nearly as raw and painful as it used to be. But the scars remain. Such is the nature of scars. They diminish over time but they don’t disappear, not completely, not even invisible ones.

Why couldn’t things have been different? Why couldn’t I have been with Monte first?

Doesn’t matter. I’m with him now. I’ll be with him tonight. Monte makes me feel beautiful and special.

I turn my attention back to my suitcase. If only I could have predicted that sexy lingerie would come in handy on this trip. Alas, the sexiest thing I can find is a ribbed black tank top that shows off my boobs and a pair of hot pink vintage-style running shorts. Even though I never run anywhere intentionally, the shorts are a trim, sexy cut that makes my hips and ass look damn good.

Just as I’m about to change, I start wondering if I ought to take a shower first. I took a shower this morning and my day was far from physically strenuous but maybe I should take another one. On the other hand, it will eat up a lot of time if I dry my hair.

What do other people do when they know they are about to (possibly) have sex? Or something like sex?

Well, they probably don’t suffer through some intensely neurotic inner battle while brushing their teeth.

In the end, I compromise with a quick two-minute shower but keep my hair tied up and dry.

Monte waits in bed. He’s on his phone again but he sets it down immediately.

For once, I’m not too nervous to directly confront the heat in a man’s eyes. I’m delighted when his gaze sweeps up and down over my body and his expression shifts to unmistakable lust. He’s practically drooling and I’m almost proud of my body as I remove the clip from my thick hair and shake it loose.

Monte kneels and reaches for me. “You’re so gorgeous.”

Here it comes, the sudden tickle of doubt, an unwelcome intrusion. The room now feels too bright even though the only light is from a lamp on the nightstand.

I lunge for the lamp, intending to switch it off. Instead, I nearly knock it off the table. Because of course I did.

Monte’s superior reflexes save the lamp. He gently sets it straight and then pulls on the switch cord. The room plunges into darkness. I feel stupid for exhaling with relief.

“Let’s play a game,” Monte says in the darkness.

A curious request coming from him. “Like a video game?”

“No.”

“You don’t even like games.”

“I’ll like this one.”

“What is it called?”

“Silent Night.”

I don’t know what to make of that. Could be horror-themed or Santa-themed. Either one would be a strange choice right now.

Monte’s arm circles my waist and I allow him to pull me into bed.

“Don’t you want to know the rules?” he says and gently lays me on my back.

My heart pounds, but in a good way. “What are the rules?”

He moves my knees slightly apart and runs his hands up my thighs. “Only one rule that matters. You can’t make a sound no matter what my tongue does to your pussy.”

Now I can’t breathe. I’ve forgotten how. “Oh.” The single syllable is a high squeak.

“Think you can handle that?” he says and his hands venture higher, massaging the soft flesh of my inner thighs. “This way we won’t disturb the neighbors like we did last night.”

Finally, I manage to take a dazed breath. “How do I win the game?”

“If you stay quiet when you come, then you win.”

At this point, I might come if he breathes on me too hard. The warm buzz between my legs rises to a fever pitch.

Monte still waits for consent. “Tell me whether you want to play.”

“I really want to play your game, Monte.”

He tugs on my shorts. “I was watching you today. Sitting in the grass. Laughing with your sister. Totally clueless that I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you with my mouth. Thank you for letting me.”

I shift my hips to help him slide the shorts down my legs. The low moan in my throat is automatic.

“I love the sounds you make,” he says and pulls my panties down next. “But remember the biggest rule of the game. You want to win, don’t you, honey?”

My teeth sink into my lower lip. Yes, I want to win.

Monte pushes my legs apart. His tongue explores gently, slowly, lapping in and out, pausing to tease my clit.

The feeling is indescribable. A thousand times better than the most innovative vibrator. He groans and with the hum of the vibration, I see stars. My fists seize clumps of bedding and my back bends to welcome more access from his tongue.

I’ve never allowed anyone to go down on me before and now I don’t know how I’ll live without doing this every day. Monte’s mouth is a tool of torment and ecstasy. I unclench my fists from the bed comforter and push my fingers into his hair. Since the rules of the game don’t allow me to speak, this is the only way I can let him know how much I love what he’s doing.

When I come, it takes everything I have not to scream. He’s merciless with his tongue, refusing to let up until I’ve quit thrashing and writhing. I’m still floating back to earth when I hear his voice.

“You won, Brina.” He plants soft kisses on the inside of each thigh. “You’re already a pro at this game. I knew you would be.”

Monte dresses me, sliding my panties and shorts back on. It’s uncanny the way he correctly anticipates what I need, how I’d start to feel uneasy about being so exposed once the throbbing orgasm fades.

But I bet he’s not anticipating what I’m about to do next.

“I didn’t really win.” I sit up and face him in the darkness. “I can’t truly win unless you play too.”

I’m almost tempted to switch the light back on. I’d really enjoy seeing the look on his face right now.

He’s so surprised that seconds keep ticking by with no snappy reply from him. This time I get to feel a little smug.

I flatten my hand on his broad chest. “Lay down. Same rules apply. You can’t make a sound.”

“Fuck, Brina,” he groans and flops back on the mattress.

“Starting now,” I warn and peel back the waistband of his shorts. His cock, thick and huge and hard, springs out into my hand. “You’re not the only one who had dirty thoughts all day. In my fantasies, I sucked you off until you came in my mouth. And then I swallowed. Now make my fantasy come true, Monte.”

He shudders out a breath.

I really hope I can keep up with my own filthy talk. I’ve never actually given a successful blow job before. Sure, I’ve watched videos. Read graphic descriptions. That’s not the same as doing the work. I want so badly to please him, to make him feel as good as he makes me feel.

Monte sharply sucks in air when my lips touch the head of his cock. There’s a drop of moisture there and I taste it. Vaguely salty. I wrap my hand around the shaft to guide it better. I lick my way up and down before taking him in my mouth. He’s far too big to fit all the way in and I try to take my cues from him, noting how his breathing changes as I move his cock in and out of my mouth. His hands touch my head, tangling in my hair, applying light pressure to let me know the pace he wants.

I never knew this act could be so much fun. Feeling the response from his powerful body is a unique kind of pleasure. He’s so much bigger and stronger than I am. Yet right now I’m holding him captive with my mouth.

He’s getting close. His muscles tighten, his movements become more frantic. A warm surge coats my tongue. There’s a lot of it but I swallow every drop, just like I said I would.

This is too much for Monte. He can’t stick to the rules. He groans out my name as he finishes.

I kiss his hard belly. “Turns out I really did win.”

“You did,” he agrees, still breathless. Then he laughs, a deep throaty chuckle. “Fucking hell, that was incredible.”

Monte briefly moves off the bed and pulls back the covers. He gathers me into his arms and I press my cheek to his chest while he tucks the blankets around my body. He kisses the top of my head and tenderly strokes my hair. When I shift my left hand to get more comfortable, my diamond ring scrapes my cheek. I forgot to take it off. Being reminded of its existence leaves me with some mixed feelings.

My wedding vows weren’t spoken in good faith. But the way I feel about Monte is intense and authentic. I’ve never felt this close to anyone and I’m absolutely crazy about him.

Today at Bright Hearts Ranch, I promised my sister that I know what I’m doing. I hope this is true.

After all, I really don’t want to get my heart broken either.