Someone Exactly Like Me by Debbie Cromack
9
Destiny
Exhausted, I roll over and look at my phone. 7:04 lights on the screen. I slept later than I wanted to. Lying under the covers, I stare at the chippy ivory chandelier above my bed, wishing I could remember my dreams. I know Nicco was sprinkled in them, but have no idea what he was doing or saying. It’s best I don’t remember.
I grab my phone off my nightstand and text him.
Me:Good luck today!
Nicco:Buongiorno, mia dolce ragazza. Thank you.
Hmm, now I know how to spell it. I toss off my sheet and duvet, throw my robe on over my satiny camisole and shorts, and run down to my computer. Pulling up a new tab, I type it in, mia dolce ragazza. One result: my sweet girl. That sounds like a term of endearment. It must be some kind of generic thing Italians say.
I get my coffee started and go back up to my bedroom to change into gym clothes. My head is spinning with different scenes, some driven by the time I’ve spent with Nicco and some driven purely by my lack of sex over the last few years and my current fantasies.
Grabbing my coffee, a notebook, and pen, I go out to the back porch and climb into my swing. With the muted sound of the crashing waves filling my ears and the smell of sea salt swirling in the air as the breeze carries it to me, I jot down words, phrases, and bits and pieces of scenes as I sip my coffee. I know more will come and some will change once I interview Nicco, but I don’t want to forget them.
Once I finish my coffee, I hit the gym then get back home for, hopefully, a good day of writing. My notebook has scenes all over the place with no order or structure. It’s time to create my goal, motivation, conflict spreadsheet and get into the heads and hearts of my characters.
By evening, I have a few things filled in, but there are still lots of blanks. At least I named my heroine: Emma. It feels like I’m trying to force the story and I know myself well enough to know that that approach never works well for me. So, I call it a day and make dinner.
As I’m eating, my phone chimes with a text.
Nicco:Today went well. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. What time are we meeting?
Oh right. After the whole let-me-stick-my-face-inches-from-yours-and-get-you-all-hot-and-bothered-then-tell-you-I’m-not-going-to-kiss-you thing, I completely forgot about settling on a time to meet tomorrow.
Me:That’s great! I’m excited to hear about it. Let’s go with 11:00 again, my house. Dress comfortably.
Nicco:Sounds good. Okay, I will. Have a good night.
Me:You too.
I hit the gym, come home, shower, and put on jean shorts and my white eyelet tank top. Before Nicco arrives, I decide to spend a little time on research. Since he’s Italian, I want some of the book set in Italy. As I Google, I stumble across Ponza Island and it looks so beautiful. A few more clicks and I find a guide for Ponza Island on Amazon. Add to cart.
Nicco arrives a little before eleven. I already have our bikes and bottles of water on the front porch. When I open the door, the smell of smoke hits me and I ignore it. He’s wearing gym shorts and a black T-shirt. The man is adorable and sexy all rolled together.
“Hi.”
“Good morning.” The deep rumble of his voice sends goose bumps up my spine.
Damn, he has me going already. I slip into my nude-colored flipflops, grab my small purse, and lock the door.
“Is this one for me?” he asks, pointing to the men’s bike.
“Yeah. I borrowed it from my neighbor since I only have two women’s bikes. You may need to adjust the height of the seat with your long legs.”
He takes a minute to adjust the seat. “Okay, I think I’m good.”
“Great. Just follow me. It’s about a fifteen-minute ride. We won’t be able to talk much during the ride, but we can catch up once we get to the pier. I want to hear all about your meetings.”
“Okay, I’ll follow you.”
I keep a mild pace since we’re not in a rush and I want him to be able to enjoy the scenery. When we reach the pier, I find a visible spot to lock up our bikes and we enter the pier.
We’re met with the vibrantly painted buildings and booths and the buzz of happy people. Carnival music fills the air that smells of burgers, buttery popcorn, and sweet funnel cakes. He looks up, looks around, and his mouth drops open as an expression of wonderment coats his face.
“Wow, this is amazing. It’s like a child’s playland.” He spreads his arms out wide. “An amusement park on stilts in the water.”
His childlike reaction makes me laugh. “It is.”
“What can we do?”
“Anything you want. There are rides and games and food. There’s so much to do.”
“Let’s start with one of your favorite things.”
“Do you like roller coasters?” I ask.
“Yeah, I love them.”
“Okay, let’s go. It’s not big, but it’s fun.” I start walking toward the roller coaster.
“Great. Hey, I wanted to take your mom to dinner to thank her for all her help, but she said she’s very busy and doesn’t have time right now.”
“Yeah, she just started on a new film.”
“I’d like to send her a gift basket. Can you tell me some things she might like?”
“That’s very nice of you. How about we do that together when we get back to my house later?”
“That would be great.”
We ride the coaster and play some arcade games then get big, juicy burgers, French fries, and milkshakes for lunch. After lunch, we head for cotton candy. On the way, we pass my favorite booth, the water race, and a cute stuffed pig catches my eye.
“Oh my gosh, look how cute,” I squeal with delight, pointing at the little pig.
“What that?” he asks, pointing at the pig.
“Yeah, he’s cute.”
“Do you want it?”
“No. What am I going to do with it?”
“I will win it for you,” he says, gallantly puffing up his chest.
“Nicco, you don’t have to do that.”
He ignores me, pays for a race, and picks his spot. A group of kids rush over, pay, and stand on both sides of him. Two of them look like they might be brother and sister. The other three are rowdy teenage boys.
He glances back at me. “I think I have some competition.”
A little girl with baby blonde, ringlet ponytails stands next to him and looks up at him.
“Which one are your trying to win, mister?” she asks in her sweet, tiny voice. Her big brown eyes alight with curiosity.
“Me? Oh, I want the little pig. Which one are you trying to win?”
A big smile spreads across to her cheeks. “Me too.”
“Okay then.” He offers his hand and she places her tiny hand in his. “Let’s do this,” he says, shaking her hand gently.
The kids grab their water guns and lean over the platform. Nicco looks down at the little girl, quickly tugs up the right sleeve on his T-shirt, and winks at her. While it’s completely adorable and playful with the girl, catching a glimpse of his muscular arm in real life sends my brain straight to the first sex scene in his movie and my heart rate quickens. I immediately shake away the image.
The boy behind the platform rings the bell, signifying the start of the race. Standing to the side of them, I can see the determination in the little girl’s face. I can also tell Nicco is purposefully missing the target here and there, but not making it obvious.
“Come on. Go, go!” he cheers.
Meanwhile, the rowdy boys and the little girl’s brother are ahead of both of them. The bell rings and the race is over. One of the rowdy boys won.
The little girl looks up at Nicco. “You tried your best,” she says, patting him on his arm in consolation.
He chuckles. “So did you. Would you like to play again?”
“I can’t. I don’t have any more money.”
“I do,” he says, pulling cash out of his pocket. “Is that your brother?” he asks pointing at the boy I thought was her brother.
“Uh-huh.” She nods.
He hands money to the boy behind the platform for the three of them to play. The girl looks at her brother who shrugs his shoulders and returns to the booth.
“Thank you, mister,” she says.
“Are you sure?” the boy asks, looking up at Nicco.
“Absolutely sure.”
“Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” he says quietly and stands on the left of Nicco.
The rowdy boys hadn’t gotten far and are back to play again. Nicco looks at me with feigned fear on his face, making me smile.
“Come on, we can do this,” he says, giving high-fives to the little girl and her brother.
When the bell rings, I know he’s not messing around. He keeps his gun aimed at the target and his eyes laser focused. The bell rings again and Nicco’s light beams, signifying him as the winner. The three of them cheer with arms raised in the air.
“You did it, mister. Good job,” says the little girl. “Get your piggy.”
The boy behind the platform hands the pig to Nicco as the little girl and her brother turn to walk away.
“Wait,” he says loudly then squats down.
They turn back and step toward him.
“I have to travel on an airplane soon and I’m afraid this piggy won’t fit in my suitcase. Will you take care of him for me?” he asks, handing the pig to the girl.
Her doe-eyes open wide and her mouth drops as she gasps. Taking the pig from him, she wraps her arms around his neck. “Thank you so much, mister.” She releases her embrace. “I promise I’ll take good care of him.”
“I’m counting on it.” He smiles sweetly at her.
The kids say goodbye and run off.
As he rises, watching them go, a wistfulness cloaks his face — and vanishes the instant our eyes meet.
He approaches the boy behind the platform and hands him more money. The boy gives him a stuffed pig.
Walking toward me, he hangs his head, then raises it when he reaches me. “I had to give yours away.” He gestures in the direction the little girl and her brother ran off.
Was that the reason for the forlorn expression on his face? Can’t be. There was something deeper behind it — pain. He’s hiding something. Hmmm.
Witnessing his playful side with the kids, I have to admit, he’s much more endearing than I thought the virile sex-god would be.
Whether he’s trying to prove to me that he’s more than just a playboy or not, this scorching-hot, devastatingly adorable man has just lightly tapped on my heart. Oof, I have to be careful. What we have is a business arrangement. He’s basically a client and I’m sticking by Candi’s rule, and adding to it: Never ever sleep with or fall in love with clients. This is an excellent rule. Plus, I made a pact with myself after Kevin and I broke up. It’s better for my career if I stay single. Being single allows my imagination to be wildly creative and write steamy love scenes that come from my fantasies. Getting tangled up in a relationship would destroy that. And right now, I need to get my career back on track.
“Thank you, Nicco.” I smile and take the pig from him.
“Are you ready for that cotton candy now?”
“Yes, let’s go.”
We find cotton candy and I pick out a pink one.
“What color do you want?” I ask.
“No, I’m not having any.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I’m full from lunch. I’ll have a bite of yours.”
“Okay.” I get money out of my purse.
“No,” he says, putting his hand on mine. “This is part of my requested tour. I’ll pay.”
“But, Nicco, you’re not even having any. I can pay for my own cotton candy.”
“Do you want to insult me?” he asks, stone-faced.
“Well, no. It’s just…”
He pulls out his money and pays.
We stroll to the side of the pier and gaze out over the water. I don’t like getting my hands sticky so I poke my tongue into the fluffy pink candy and curl pieces into my mouth. Since he said he wanted a bite, I figure I’d better offer before I finish the whole thing myself.
“Here.” I point the puffy ball toward him.
Like a big kid, he sticks his mouth into it, yanking out a wad and eating it. Cotton candy is stuck to his mustache and scruffy chin. I can’t help but laugh at him.
“What?” He looks around, pretending he doesn’t know it’s all over his face.
I laugh harder, then wet the napkin I grabbed with the water he bought me. I reach up and take his strong jaw in my hands.
“Here, I’ll get it off.” I dab at his chin and then his mustache, avoiding looking into his gorgeous brown eyes. It takes a few strokes to get it all off.
“Thank you.” His seductive grumble pulls my gaze to his eyes.
“You’re welcome.” My words are breathier than I intend.
I continue my ritual, sticking my tongue into the cotton candy and grabbing pieces, curling them into my mouth as we quietly look over the water. I finish my last bite and I know my lips are sticky with sugar. I glide my tongue around my lips, savoring the last bits of sweetness before I wipe my mouth with the napkin.
Feeling his eyes on me, I turn toward him. He chuckles.
“You amuse me,” he says, leaning against the railing and facing me while I look back toward the water.
“How do I amuse you?” I ask, returning my gaze to him.
“You’re sexy like a woman and cute like a little girl.”
Has the sugar gone to my head? This is the second time he’s called me sexy.
Blood rushes through me and my eyes shift back and forth between his. “I — I don’t know what to say to that.”
“No response is required,” he says flatly then looks out into the water.
We stand silently for a few minutes, listening to waves crash against the piles and seagulls sing above us.
Nicco
The more time I spend with her, the more I want to know about her. I feel like we’re becoming friends. It’s a strange feeling for me, but nice. How is it she’s still single?
“I’m kind of surprised you haven’t married yet,” I say, not looking at her.
“I was engaged once.”
I shift my body to face her. “Really?”
“Yeah.” She looks over at me then back out toward the water. “Well, that was until I caught him the week before our wedding, lip-locked with his childhood best friend.”
A sting pinches my heart. “Destiny. I’m so sorry.” I know the hurt of being cheated on. “What happened?”
She turns to face me, a slight breeze tousles her ponytail. “I always had my suspicions about them. I mean, she’s absolutely gorgeous, incredible body, beautiful face.” She looks at me. “Someone you’d be with. And she was actually really nice. We got along great.” She shakes her head. “There always seemed to be flirtatious energy between them though. They both denied anything more than friendship, but I always felt there was something more. Anyway, I’d left my wedding planner at his house and wanted to go over a few things so I stopped by to get it. That’s when I walked in on him and Tessa, half naked, making out.”
Thunk. My heart drops for her. “What did you do?”
“What could I do? I ran out, drove home sobbing, and cried in my room the rest of the day. Candi came over and stayed with me.”
“You didn’t scream? Or throw things at them?”
She laughs. “No. I tend to get hurt rather than angry. Don’t get me wrong, I was crushed. And I was definitely mad for a while. But more mad at myself for not trusting my instincts.”
“The women I’ve dated would’ve been enraged and tried to beat up the other woman.” I chuckle.
She laughs harder. “Nope, not me. I took my broken heart and ran away. We met the next day to talk. He apologized and tried to tell me it didn’t mean anything. I looked him in the eye and told him he needed to figure out what his feelings were for Tessa because there was, very obviously, something more than just friendship. He wasn’t a bad guy. I mean, what he did wasn’t nice, but I wanted him to be happy. I wanted both of us to be happy. Plus, I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me. Clearly, he didn’t.” She rests her arm on the railing.
“How were you so okay with it?”
Pain sits in her eyes. “I wasn’t.” She pauses, looking out at the water. “I was devastated. For a long time. He broke my heart.” A sheen veils her eyes and my heart is heavy for her. “But, once I had some distance from it and really looked at our relationship, I knew it was for the best. There was never a mutual investment in our relationship.” She cast her gaze downward and then back up. “And he never looked at me the way he looked at her.” The sadness in her voice tugs at my heart.
“How did he look at her?”
She sighs. “With a passion that went beyond physical desire. Respect, admiration, a deep longing.” She looks down at her feet, shaking her head. “I — I don’t know how to explain it.”
I reach out and touch her arm. She looks into my eyes. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”
We both face the water again, quiet, listening to the sounds of chattering voices and singing seagulls.
“Is there anything else you want to do here?” I ask.
“You have to ride the Ferris wheel. The view from the top is beautiful.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
We get in line and it moves quickly. Within five minutes, we’re nestled into a gondola. Ascending higher, the view is quite beautiful as she said it would be. The big wheel lazily spins twice, eventually stopping at the top. The breeze feels nice against my skin.
Suddenly, she grabs my thigh, and not in a sensual way. Her grasp is firm, nails digging into my skin. When I look at her, her already fair skin is ghostly pale and she’s clutching her chest.
Adrenaline zaps me as I turn my body toward her. “Destiny, what’s wrong?”
She stares straight ahead, her breathing is rapid and her entire body is trembling. Then she looks at me with fear sharp in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t expect this.”
“Expect what? What’s happening to you?”
Her nails still digging into me and her breathing still fast, she continues. “I didn’t think to tell you.” She breaths in and out. “It hasn’t happened in so long.”
“What? What hasn’t happened?”
“I’m —” She breathes. “I’m having a panic attack,” she says, taking my hand and placing it between her breasts. Her heart beats wildly.
“Holy shit.” I withdraw my hand and take her hand from my thigh, holding it in both of mine. “Tell me what to do. How do I help you? Do we need to get off? I can yell down to them.”
She gazes forward again, breathing in deeply, focused. “No.” She releases the breath. “I’ll be okay.” She continues her focused breathing as her body continues trembling. “It’s okay.” She nods trying to assure me, but I’m freaking out.
“What can I do? I want to help you.”
She exhales. “When we spin down —” She inhales. “I want to get off.” She exhales, shuddering, then clutches our clasped hands to her chest. Her other hand has a death-grip on the pig and is curled into her stomach. I sit closer to her, putting my arm around her shoulders, trying to make her feel safe. “Until then, there’s really nothing you can do.” She inhales. “I’m so sorry about this.” She shakes her head vigorously, inhaling and exhaling, rocking her body back and forth.
“Please. No. It’s okay. I’m here.” I stroke her arm.
Finally, the wheel begins moving. As we get closer to the bottom, I shout to the operator.
“Excuse me, sir! We need to get off right now!”
Thankfully, he hears me and slows the wheel as we approach the bottom.
The operator opens the gondola door.
“Thank you so much,” I say, getting out and holding my hands out for her.
“Man, is she okay? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
“No, I’m fine,” she says breathlessly as she trembles, sweat glistening on her face. “It’s just a panic attack, I know how to manage it.” She breathes. “Thank you for stopping for us.” She breathes. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“It’s fine, ma’am. You feel better now.”
Wrapping my arm around her tiny, shaking body, I walk us to a bench. She clutches my other hand into her.
I sit her on the bench, release her, and squat down in front of her. “Destiny, what can I do?”
“I’d love some cold water.” The quaver in her voice rips at me. I don’t want to leave her, but I want to help her.
“Okay, I’ll be right back. Stay here.”
As I rise, she clasps her hands together tightly around the pig in her lap, her shoulders hunched inward. My heart aches. I quickly find the closest place that sells water and return to her. Opening the bottle, I hand it to her. She takes it with her trembling hands and the water spills out and down her arms.
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry.”
I take the bottle from her and sit next to her. Putting the bottle to her lips, I slowly tilt it into her mouth. She sucks it in.
“Destiny, please, stop apologizing. It’s okay. I just want to understand what’s happening to you so I can help you.”
“I’ll tell you.” She breathes. “I just need to focus on my breathing —” she inhales, “and calm my heart rate. I didn’t bring my emergency medicine.”
Taking the water bottle in both of her hands, she puts it up to her lips and sips. I sit quietly as she closes her eyes and breathes. I feel helpless. Still with her eyes closed, she reaches out to hold my hand, gripping it tightly. I slide closer to her. As the minutes pass and she breathes in and out, seeming to follow a rhythm, the tremors begin fading.
Loosening her grip on my hand, she releases a long sigh and opens her eyes. Her shoulders relax down and the color comes back to her skin. Her breathing is normal again.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” Her nod assures me.
“Are you afraid of heights?”
She giggles. “No, I’m not afraid of heights. I started having panic attacks about four years ago, but I haven’t had one in a long time. That’s why I don’t have my emergency medicine with me, I haven’t needed it.”
“Why did that happen to you?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. Usually for me it’s a claustrophobic thing. Like, I’m not in control of what’s happening. The first time I had one, I was on an airplane and I explained to the flight attendant that I wanted to get off the plane, that instant. Well, we were in the air and getting off the plane obviously wasn’t possible. I remained calm as I was telling her what was happening, but inside, my heart was racing, my body was vibrating, it felt like all the muscles in my body were seizing, and I thought I was dying. It was the most scared I’ve ever been in my life.”
“That sounds horrifying.” I can’t imagine what it must feel like, even after her description and watching her go through one.
“I guess because we were up there and I wasn’t in control of us getting down. It must’ve triggered something.” She lowers her head. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” I squeeze her hand.
She must not have realized she was holding my hand because she releases it immediately. “I’m sorry,” she says.
“It’s fine.” I take her hand back in mine. I like having her hold my hand. I’m glad I was with her when this happened.
“And I ruined the ride for you.” The beautiful features of her face draw down into a frown.
“I don’t care about that. I care about you.” As I gaze into her eyes and say the words, I feel their truth in my core. I’m starting to have feelings for her, feelings beyond physical attraction and wanting to get between her legs.
“I’m okay now. They do take a lot out of me though. Do you mind if we go home?”
“No. I was going to suggest it. Are you okay to bike though?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Okay, we’ll take it slow.”
We find our bikes, she puts the pig and her purse in the front basket of hers, and we ride back to her house. When we arrive, we park our bikes on her front porch.
“You wanted to send my mom a gift basket. How about we do that quickly and then you can go,” she says, entering her house.
“I’m not leaving you alone,” I say sternly.
She chuckles. “Nicco, I’m fine.” She looks up into my eyes. “I promise.”
Tilting my head down toward her, I lower my voice. “May I stay?”
She steps back. “Yes, um, of course.”
“Good. We can order food and watch a movie.” And I can keep an eye on you.
When she goes upstairs to change, I take off my shoes and socks and get a chance to really look around her home. It’s cozy and beachy, decorated in neutrals, soft blues, and muted greens. The decor is tasteful with vases of white hydrangeas, a few large seashells and white coral pieces, candles in glass holders, and glass jars filled with small shells and starfish. While it’s unusual to have a desk in the living room, given her work, it makes sense. And the view she has through the large bay window is something else. I grab the remote on top of her fireplace and, even though it’s still early evening, I turn it on. She gets cold so easily and, after the day she had, she might like having it on.
She comes back down a few minutes later wearing black leggings and an oversized gray sweatshirt. Damn, she’s adorable.
“I turned this on. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I love having the fireplace on.” She smiles.
Sitting down at her desk, she tucks her leg under her and helps me find a nice gift basket online for her mom, and then we order food. While we wait for the food to arrive, we pick out a movie, Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw. As she’s loading the movie, she gasps and spins around, facing me.
“Nicco, we were so busy with all the games and rides, you forgot to tell me about your meetings. I want to hear how they went.” Her excitement makes me smile.
“That’s right. I forgot too.”
We sit on the sofa portion of her comfortable sectional and I give her the highlights of my meetings. Given her mom’s career, Destiny’s met people from different aspects of the industry through the years. She spoke very highly of Vance and I’m even more excited about my meeting with him tomorrow afternoon.
Our food arrives and she starts the movie. When it finishes, we decide to binge-watch the Fast & Furious collection, she has them all.
“I’m surprised you like these kinds of movies given you write romance for a living,” I say as she switches the Blu-rays.
“I love all the action, and there are love stories woven in. What I really love though is their dedication to each other and the family they create among themselves.” She walks over to her connected kitchen. “Want a snack?”
“Sure.” Joining her in the kitchen, I’m curious about what snacks she has.
There’s a variety of both healthy snacks and junk food, mostly chocolate. We both opt for unhealthy snacks. I take the glass container of homemade chocolate chip cookies she’d made and she grabs the glass jar of Hershey kisses plus two water bottles.
“You’re the most organized person I’ve ever met. I don’t know anyone who keeps their food in glass containers,” I say as we bring our snacks back to the living area.
She laughs. “Yeah, I’m a bit of a neat-freak. I like things organized. It helps me be productive.”
We settle back on the sofa, me stretching my legs on the chaise section with a big pillow at my back, and her sitting close, but not too close, with her legs curled up on the sofa under a blanket and a pillow tucked into her side. I probably shouldn’t, but I want her closer to me. I can’t figure out if she feels anything for me. I still don’t know if I’m who she was writing about in her pages and I don’t know if I’m misinterpreting what feels to me like chemistry between us. I’m so used to women being attracted to me, but with Destiny, I have no idea. Sometimes I think she might be because of how she reacts when we’re close, but then other times, it’s like she resists me. I can’t figure her out.
Snacks in hand, we resume our binge-watching.
Destiny
When I open my eyes, Nicco’s arms are wrapped around my feet, cradling them like a stuffed animal. Carefully, I stretch my arm to get my phone off the coffee table to see what time it is. I tap my phone and 6:18 lights on the screen. Resting my head on the pillow, I gaze up at the seashell chandelier and quietly sigh.
Though I still think he’s a playboy, I’m seeing a different side of him that I didn’t expect. He was so sweet with that little girl yesterday. And when I had my panic attack, the way he took care of me blew me away. He’s inching into my heart.
Feeling gross from not having brushed my teeth or washed my face last night, I cautiously slip my feet out from his arms. He stirs a bit and I freeze, staring at him. I can’t believe he’s here, in my house, on my sofa, asleep. Damn, he’s gorgeous. Cut it out.
I quietly sneak upstairs and get a shower. As the water washes over my body, my thoughts immediately go to Nicco — naked, stepping into the shower behind me. Squirting body wash into his hands, he rubs them together and starts washing my back. With his soapy hands around my waist, he slides them up my back then around my shoulders, massaging my neck with his thumbs. Sliding his hands back down, he grazes the sides of my breasts with his fingers. When he reaches my waist again, he applies delicate pressure, and slides his hands slowly up, grazing my breasts again. I tingle between my legs.
As he glides his hands back down, he moves them around to my stomach, then down my inner thighs. His hands feel so good on me. My body arches in response and he groans as my butt presses into him. He roams again with his large hands, back around my waist, up the sides of my body, around to my breasts. Then, taking my arms in each hand and sliding his sudsy hands up them as he raises them above my head, he places my hands against the wall. Holding my hands above my head with one hand, he slides the other back down my body and around my waist then tugs me into him. I gasp, feeling how hard he is against my skin.
His mouth is at my ear. “Don’t move,” he whispers.
He squeezes more body wash into his hands and touches me, circling my butt cheeks with his slippery hands. He encases my waist with his arm, sliding his other hand between my cheeks. Slowly, he glides both hands up my arms still above my head, wrapping them around my wrists. I feel him move behind me, sliding himself gently between my butt cheeks, up and down, up and down. Tilting my head back, I let out a hushed moan as my breathing increases.
He returns his mouth to my ear. “Spread your legs for me, mia dolce ragazza.” His whisper shoots straight between my legs.
I do.
“Don’t move your arms,” he says in a low growl.
He slips his hands down my body again, one hand grabbing my opposite breast, the other sliding between my legs. I squirm. He reaches his hand up to the water, rinsing off the suds. Still holding my body against his with his other arm, he inserts his finger into me, staying shallow. Sliding it out, he rubs the nub at the top of my slit. Inserting again, he goes deeper, then back out, massaging my nub. I release a whimper. He slides his length between my cheeks again, pressing my abdomen in and down, tilting me against him, groaning.
This time, he slips two fingers into me, dragging them out, and sliding them in. He quickens his pace then stops, rubbing my nub and sliding himself between my cheeks. Back in with two fingers, he slides them deeper, groaning louder. My heart races, I pant as he slides his fingers in and out of me faster. Each time he stops to rub my nub, my frenzy heightens. He plunges his fingers deep, stroking inside me. Pounding the wall with my hands, I release a squeak. He’s relentless in giving me pleasure, thrusting his fingers in and out.
“Will you come for me, Destiny?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” I say, between pants.
He pulls me against him, guiding my arms so my hands can reach his trap muscles. Pressing my body against his, he thrusts two fingers back inside me, ruthlessly pulsing in and out with one hand and massaging my nub with the other, waiting for me to come undone.
Tension builds inside me, my breaths rapid. The faster he moves, the louder I moan. I dig my nails into his muscles and he focuses fully on my nub, massaging at the perfect speed and pressure. My back arches in response.
“Yes, mia dolce ragazza, come for me.”
My entire body explodes with tingling ecstasy as my walls pulse and contract. My clenching thighs squeeze around his hand still between my legs. I fall forward and, as my knees weaken, he slides one arm across my torso and the other around my stomach, holding me against him.
My fingers are pruney from standing under the shower for so long. I calm myself down from my fantasy and finish my shower. Holy hell.
Hair still wet and no makeup on, I open the bathroom door and smell coffee. How am I going to look him in the eye and not tingle between my legs?