Luca's Bad Girl - By Amy Andrews Page 0,35

strode through the apartment, their mouths locked, their hearts beating to a rhythm that pulsed like a rock concert through the air around them.

Luca reached his bed and threw her on it. Mia was startled as she free-fell, landing softly but breathing hard. Somewhere along the way she’d lost her heels so she was one hundred per cent naked now.

She looked up at a half-undressed Luca. His lips were moist from their kissing, his shirt was half off, his zipper undone.

‘You look good,’ she murmured.

Luca grinned. ‘You look better.’

Then he was stripping off his clothes, reaching for a condom, sheathing himself, then joining her, tangling his limbs with hers, kissing her mouth and her neck and her breasts, ignoring her entreaties to finish it as he licked lower. And lower.

It wasn’t until she lay spent beneath him that he succumbed to his own body’s dictates, entering her slowly, revelling in her exultant cry, rocking and pulsing, building her again until he was pounding and pounding, pushing them both to impossible heights and then pushing them both over into oblivion.

It was several minutes before either of them was physically able to speak. Luca, who was now lying on his back, recovered first.

‘Do you realise this is the first time we’ve actually done it in a bed?’

Mia, her brain cells still reorganising themselves after a mass meltdown, just nodded. It took her another couple of minutes to process and for a spike of worry to register.

Somehow landing in Luca’s bed made this whole thing seem more intimate. The other places had personified their relationship—the on-call room, the shower, the kitchen bench. Quick and impersonal.

Places to get off then move on.

They had spelled temporary, fleeting, momentary.

But to be in his bed, in his bedroom? What the hell did that spell?

Mia didn’t think it was prudent to stick around and find out. Just as soon as she could move without her legs collapsing, she was out of here. The perfect opportunity arose when Luca went to the bathroom to relieve himself of the condom but her legs refused to co-operate so she was still lying stark naked on his bed when he returned.

‘You look good there,’ Luca murmured as he approached the bed.

Mia watched him draw nearer, unashamedly naked, his beautiful smooth face and body a sight to behold. Desire stirred in her belly.

Right, that was it! Get up now, McKenzie!

Except the phone beside Luca’s bed chose that moment to ring, scaring the living daylights out of her. She glanced at the clock. ‘Who on earth is ringing at this ungodly hour?’

Luca felt his heart rate accelerate. People who lived in places where it wasn’t an ungodly hour.

He reached the phone in three purposeful strides and snatched it up. ‘Ciao.’

Mia saw another chance to escape but Luca talking in his native tongue was such a treat, even if she didn’t understand a word, she just lay and listened to him. He sat on the side of the bed his back to her, and she resisted the urge to run her palm up and down the broad expanse of his ribs. To contrast the white of her skin with the tantalising copper of his.

The first sign that the phone call wasn’t social was Luca raising his voice. He raked his hand through his hair and seemed to be demanding something of the caller. She heard the word ‘nonna’ a lot. Wasn’t that Italian for grandmother? Had something happened to his grandmother?

There was some more rapid-fire conversation before Luca hung up, tossing the hands-free receiver onto the bedside table with a clatter.

Mia pushed herself up on to her elbows, staring at the solid wall of his back. ‘Is everything okay?’ she asked tentatively.

Luca dragged himself back from the brink of the abyss the phone call had taken him to. For a moment he’d forgotten Mia was even there. He was inordinately pleased she was.

Which didn’t sit well at all.

He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘No. That was a cousin of mine. My grandmother is dead.’

Mia heard the husky rawness behind the blunt delivery and in that instant she forgot that she was naked, forgot that she was supposed to have already gone, forgot that she didn’t get involved. The driving need to offer him comfort, as she would do anyone—a friend, a patient a colleague—overrode everything.

She sat and scooted over to him shunting in behind him, spreading her legs to accommodate him, his bottom fitting snugly into the cradle of her pelvis, her thighs bracketing