I stood there in front of him in nothing but cute turquoise underwear and a pair of heels. I’d never felt more vulnerable in my whole life.
And then he touched me. His fingers skimmed my belly and I felt a bolt of desire hit me between the legs as he caressed my skin. Suddenly he gripped my h*ps in both his large hands and I tottered toward him on my heels.
Our eyes met and the expression on his face made me feel more beautiful and desired than I’d ever known I could feel.
“Look at you,” he whispered hoarsely, almost reverently. “Look at you.”
“Marco…” I reached out, cupping his face in my hand.
His eyes closed at my touch, his expression so tender I wanted to melt all over again. I sighed as he pulled me closer to press sweet kisses against my stomach. His kisses went lower, following the waistband of my underwear, and I shivered at the touch of his fingertips coasting along my lower back.
I braced my hands on his shoulders to steady myself.
Seconds later I felt a tug on my bra and it parted, falling down my arms. Heat suffused me. No one had seen me na**d before.
One look into Marco’s eyes, though, and all embarrassment fled.
Marco groaned, his eyes ravishing me, and I found myself guided toward him until I had to put my knees on the bed on either side of him to straddle him. Lowering my bottom to his lap, I felt his large erection through his jeans and a rush of overwhelming sexual awareness crashed over me. My br**sts swelled, my ni**les tightened, and Marco took it as an invitation.
His mouth wrapped around my nipple and the feeling… the tingles, the sudden urgency that made me rock my h*ps against his… I wanted more. I wanted so much more…
I whimpered his name as I burned.
Marco pulled back, his heavy-lidded gaze on my face, his strong arms holding me tight. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”
I took his face in my hands and looked deep in his eyes. “Would you rather some other guy was?”
And that was when I saw it. The dark flicker of anger, of possessiveness that had made him kiss me in the first place. Triumphant, I pressed my lips to his, moaning in pleasure as he kissed me back. Hard. Our tongues touched, sending sparks of growing arousal through me. The kiss turned searching – months, years even, of longing in it. We broke apart briefly so I could yank his T-shirt over his head, my hands roaming and memorizing every hard contour of his beautiful torso.
Suddenly I was flipped, my back on the bed, and Marco pulled away.
I stared up at him, panting, praying he wasn’t going to stop this.
My prayers were answered.
He towered over me, a fantasy come to life. His beautiful caramel-toned skin, the powerful shoulders, the abs that made my mouth water. I felt a flush of heat at the sight of the sexy definition in his h*ps and the way his hard-on strained against the zipper on his jeans.
There was an intensity in his blue-green eyes that made me shiver all over.
He reached for my foot, gently pulling my shoe off. And then the other one. His eyes followed the length of my legs as he stroked my calf. “I’ve thought about this,” he admitted quietly. “A million times more than I ever should have.”
Before I could respond, he put a hand on the mattress by my knee and leaned over me, his other hand hooking into my underwear. His eyes asked the question and I nodded, lifting my h*ps to help him.
He tugged my underwear down my legs and then took a minute to gaze at me.
I felt my cheeks flush under his hot gaze.
“Marco…?”
He pressed a kiss to my ankle and then nudged my legs apart. My lower belly fluttered wildly, but I moved my legs, anticipation making me slick.
His breath fanned warmly over my skin as he crawled between my legs. He lifted one over his shoulder and kissed the inside of my thigh. Then he kissed me there.
I arched my back, groaning at the sensation of his mouth on my sex, his tongue circling my cl*tfor a time before moving south and licking inside me. I pushed up against him for more, my cries of pleasure drowned out by the party outside the little bubble of private heaven we’d created in his room.
Marco tormented me with his tongue, his own growl of pleasure vibrating through me in the most delicious way.
I felt it build, my body stiffening as the tension grew and grew and grew… and then shattered.
My first orgasm.
Delight and a weird sense of liberation flowed through my limbs as they melted in relaxation against Marco’s mattress. I opened my eyes on a soft smile to watch Marco divest himself of his jeans.
I froze at the sight of his erection.
It was huge.
How would that…?
“Ssh.” He hushed me reassuringly, urgently, as he caressed my hip. He kissed me as his body came down over mine and I wrapped my arms around his back, pulling him closer.
Nothing had ever felt more perfect than feeling his hard body against my soft one. I wanted to be inside him and I wanted him inside of me. In every way two people could be.
He touched me, two fingers sliding into me.
His breath hitched. “So ready. So tight.” He groaned and buried his head against my neck, kissing me there.
I jerked my h*ps up toward his, suddenly feeling very impatient. “Marco, please.”
He lifted his head and our eyes met.
There it was. That tether. That connection.
He moved, h*ps gliding against mine and I felt the hot throb of him nudge between my legs. I clutched his h*ps with my thighs, bracing myself. He surged forward, pushing into my tight, resisting body.
I tried to catch my breath at the overwhelming feeling of fullness.
Marco gritted his teeth, grasping me by the back of the thigh. It changed his angle and he pushed harder.
I cried out at the burn of pain, my whole body tensing.
“Hannah,” Marco panted, his concern breaking through my shock.
My eyes opened. He watched me, something like guilt on his face.
That buried the pain.
“Don’t stop,” I begged, not wanting him to ever regret this.
He shook his head. “You’re so tight.”
“Keep going.” I pulled his head down to kiss him, the kiss desperate and deep.
This hot, rumbling sound growled from the back of his throat as he began to move his h*ps against mine.
There was some residual pain, but the discomfort eased as all my awareness focused on the thrusts of his throbbing c**k inside me. His grip on my thigh tightened, his lust-filled eyes on mine the whole time as he began to move faster, pumping in and out of me, creating the tension again.
“I can’t wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “I’m sorry…” He gritted his teeth again, the muscles in his neck straining as his h*ps stilled against mine seconds before he shuddered his release inside me.
Marco collapsed against me, his face buried in my neck, and as I stroked his back I felt the wonder of that moment cascade over me, leaving me absolutely content.
I smiled, tears pricking my eyes. “I love you,” I whispered.
The muscles in his back tensed.
Wariness moved through my chest, ugly and dark, and I waited, holding my breath.
He pushed up off of me, staring at me incredulously. “What the…” He scrambled off me as though I’d burned him. “We didn’t. What…” He hurried to dress.
“Marco?” I sat up, my lips trembling with vulnerability.
His eyes moved over me, and whatever he saw made him squeeze his own shut in despair. Despair!
My tears fell.
“We shouldn’t have.”
“Marco.”
“I shouldn’t have.” He yanked his T-shirt on and quickly stuffed his feet into his trainers. He looked back at me as he turned the lock on the door. “I’m sorry, Hannah. God, I’m sorry.”
And then he left me there.
Crying, I stumbled around the room through blurred vision, pulling on my clothes before someone came in. Dressed, I stared back at the bed, my eyes zeroing in on the spot of blood on the blanket.
Despair? Despair in this moment was mine, not his.
I never saw him again. Not until a few hours ago at a random wedding. My first love. My first time.
My first heartbreak.
The tears shimmered in my eyes, but I didn’t let them loose. I’d shed all those tears years ago.
CHAPTER 7
I think more than anything I was angry. Not just at what Marco had done to me by leaving, but at what his reappearance was doing to me. I’d felt lost for a long time after he left. It had taken me a while to find my strength and independence again. It had meant hardening my heart and creating little locked doors in my soul so that only the people I trusted implicitly could ever make it inside to touch it.
Standing opposite him, staring into his handsome face and those eyes that seemed even more soulful than before, I was that seventeen-year-old girl again. Totally lost.
That pissed me off.
How dare he walk back into my life and make me feel that way? I wasn’t that person. I was my own person and I knew who I was, I knew what I was about. I had family and friends and students and colleagues who knew and respected me.
This person, this aching, bruised, lost person… that wasn’t the person they knew.
That enraged me.
Twisting and turning through the night, the anger eating away at me, I knew when I finally slid out of bed that Sunday that I couldn’t face my family. They’d take one look at me and know something was going on. Cole was already too suspicious. So I texted Mum and told her I was bogged down with work and couldn’t make Sunday lunch. In truth, I needed time to cool down, reflect, to get back to being me again.
To do that I set myself up in my living room, surrounded with schoolwork, and spent the entire day catching up on my marking. Somewhere along the way the anger began to cool.
I was so caught up in my marking I almost jumped off my couch when the doorbell rang. It was past six o’clock, the sky was darkening outside, and I’d had to switch my lamps on to see my work. I couldn’t think who would be visiting me. With my crazy, overprotective crew it could have been anyone. I didn’t know why I was surprised. This would be the fourth time I’d missed Sunday lunch in as many months. I should have known it would start to concern someone.
That someone was Ellie.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, following her into my living room.
I watched her take in my work, her expression pensive.
“Ellie?”
She frowned at me. “You missed Sunday lunch. Again.”
I gestured to my work. “I told Mum I had loads of marking to do.”
Despite the evidence staring her in the face, my sister didn’t seem to buy it. She knew me too well. “Are you sure that’s it? Cole seemed worried you weren’t there.”
Ellie would dig until she found the truth, so I outmaneuvered her by opting for a version of the truth. I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Fine. When Cole and I were at Anisha’s wedding reception last night, I bumped into a blast from the past. Marco D’Alessandro.”
My sister’s blue eyes grew round with surprise. “My God. How did that go?”
Any attempt to keep the bitterness from my face clearly failed as I curled my lip in disdain. “I found out he’s been back in Edinburgh for four years and didn’t bother to get in touch.”
“Not good.” Ellie winced sympathetically.
“What do I care, right?” I flopped down on my couch. “It’s just…” I shook my head in pained bemusement, watching Ellie lower herself into my armchair. “I found a photo of him last week and it was the first time in a long time I’d thought about him… and then poof! Suddenly he’s right in front of me. It knocked me off balance. But I’m okay now.”
Ellie narrowed her eyes on me, scrutinizing me. “I hope you’re telling the truth.”
I made a face. “I am.”
“Hannah, I’m your sister and I love you. You have an entire family who loves you. Five years ago you started shutting us out, putting on this front, determined to take care of yourself without our help. You need to stop that. Not just for you but for us. We’re here if you need us, and frankly we need you to need us.”
Feeling guilty, I glanced away from her, staring at my work. “I’m not shutting you out, Els. I promise I’m okay.”
“I don’t believe you,” she replied quietly. “I haven’t forgotten our talks back then. I haven’t forgotten how much you felt for him. Marco is your Adam. You were devastated when he left. I know you’re not okay.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say or if it was possible to force words out of the burning, painful ball of tears clogging my throat. At my prolonged silence, Ellie sighed unhappily and promptly left. The fact that she didn’t say good-bye told me she was hurt and annoyed at me.
I went right back to being pissed off at Marco.
I stewed for a while, until my phone rang and jerked me out of my daze. With a sigh, I reached for it, not recognizing the number. Hoping it wasn’t a salesman, not just for my sake but for theirs, I answered.
“Hannah, it’s me.” Marco’s familiar deep voice hit me with the force of a cannonball.
My whole body shuddered away from the phone in shock and I stared at it for a second, fury quickly building in me at his audacity.
I heard him say my name in question.
Putting the phone back to my ear, I snapped, “How did you get this number?”
“From Anisha. I explained we were old friends. I just want to talk. I need a chance to explain.”
Over the past few years I had imagined this moment, and every single time I hung up on him immediately or I walked away. In actuality I found myself hesitating because the reality was that he didn’t sound like the boy I’d once known. It wasn’t easy to describe, but even with me, someone whom he’d considered his best friend, he’d kept a guard up around his words all the time.