might, but she knew things would be different with Santo.
She just knew and, more than that, she wanted to know.
But she wouldn’t cry over him.
Unlike the others Ella had no expectation to change him, knew that was never going to happen. She just wanted her sex lesson from the master, Ella told herself, wanted to go back to where his kiss had led.
It was for that reason she did as offered and changed her mind! There wasn’t a romantic bone in her body—Ella knew that as she undid her blouse. She stood in the bathroom undressing and then headed into the bedroom and watched him sleeping for a moment. Then, naked, she looked at the warm bed and the man in it and, toes curling, she prepared to dive in.
She was cold, because as she joined him he told her she was.
He pulled her right into him and caught her feet between his calves and pressed his warm body to hers. For a moment she thought he had gone back to sleep, and then had a slight panic that he didn’t even know who she was, because Santo was very used to not sleeping alone. He’d rung her once from a hotel bathroom, terrified to go back into the bedroom because he completely couldn’t remember his date’s name and had needed Ella to tell him.
She had to remember that.
‘You feel better than you look,’ Santo said, running warm hands over her breasts and then down to her hips, ‘and you look amazing.’
Ella did not close her eyes. She would not give in to his effortless, well-used lines, would not allow herself to believe they were exclusive to her, even if he sounded as if he meant them.
‘Am I dreaming, Ella?’
‘No.’
‘Because I won’t be able to look at you if I am. This is going to be a really filthy dream....’ He purred the words to her ear and she concentrated on the hands that were expert, that ran over and over her body till she was no longer cold and far more than warm. She felt the deep kiss on the back of her neck which would ensure her hair was worn down till late in the week as she was branded by Santo, and it felt good.
It felt good for Santo too.
That she had come to his bed was the most pleasant surprise. She was the strangest mix, direct at times and then so evasive, the one woman he had no idea about and yet he wanted to. ‘What made you change your mind?’ he persisted. ‘Tell me so I know for next time.’
‘There won’t be a next time,’ Ella said. ‘Remember, we’re writing off today.’
‘Oh, there will be...’ Santo would make sure of it. ‘I’ve wanted you for so long.’
She squirmed as his mouth moved up and he kissed her ear. Ella tried to move away, but he clamped her down, his thigh over hers and trapping her still. His arm gripped her tight, his mouth unrelenting. It was horrible and wet, but he persisted till she found out she liked it, till her mouth was parting, till she wanted to crane her face to meet his mouth. He just kept on going and then stopped and taunted her wet, sensitive skin with words as his erection reared higher up the backs of her thighs.
‘What made you change your mind?’ he persisted, but still she did not answer, so he moved in with a different approach, ‘I flew you to Roma.’ It was wretched of him to bring it up here, horrible and mean, because he could feel her body burn in shame. ‘I flew you first class and to a top hotel thinking you were going to the doctors when you were going to your interview....’
‘I told you I wanted to make my own way,’ she attempted. ‘I was going to tell you. I thought I’d be called back for a second interview.’ She stopped talking because he was kissing her neck and his fingers were pinching her nipples and none too gently either. There was this assault on her senses. He hurt a bit, but not enough, and his tongue was driving her crazy and her body wanted to turn, but still he pinned her, still he kept pausing to deliciously taunt her.
‘What excuse would you have used for the second interview—would you have said you were having surgery this time?’ His hand crept down. ‘I was worried sick that you had to go all that