I knew I was inexperienced when it came to sèx, I'd only been with one man for pete's sake, but I never really understood how inexperienced I actually was, that is until the dark hair God ground his pelvis in my behind before whipping me around to press those plush lips to mine. His kiss was hard and demanding, and it surprised me that I hadn't tasted alcohol on his formidable tongue.
Heat rose in my belly, taking a beeline to the center of my legs. I hadn't had time to even challenge his kiss, not that I was really trying to begin with. His tongue sparred with mine, leaving me hot all over, not a one person in this packed club could take my mind away from the situation at hand.
I swayed side to side from dizziness and lack of oxygen, I didn't want it to end, but I needed to breath. As if he could read my mind he pulled back, untangling his hands from my hair and sliding them down until he reached the middle of my back.
His strong arms steadied me, as he leaned to huskily whisper in my ear, "Dante."
Dante? His accent was strong although I couldn't exactly place it. Sounded as though it had a Spanish draw to it? But, I was definitely no expert.
"My names Dante, yours?" He rasped, his husky voice spilling into my ear as heat pooled between my legs.
I scrunched my brows together, "Where are you from?" I asked, slurring my R's.
He seemed to be chuckling, with the way his shoulders slightly lifted and the way his chest vibrated beneath my palms. His so very hard chest. God, I bet he's faithful to a gym.
He leaned back into my ear, his warm breath was doing nothing to calm the heat. "Italy. You're quite drunk, yes?"
I shook my head and put my index finger to my lips, "Shh, nobody knows."
He threw his head back in what seemed to be laughter then brought his mouth back to my ear, "Would you like to go somewhere more... quiet?" He asked,
My body begged for me to say yes, so I simply nodded my head before pulling him by the hand to my table where my purse and the girls were.
Dante quickly stepped up to Samantha and said something into her ear, I couldn't hear what he was saying but when he was done she had a smile on her face and what seemed to be a you-so-better-tap-this look on her face. I smiled, it felt a lot bigger than a normal smile, and my lips felt numb. She rolled her eyes and spoke back to Dante.
We'd successfully made our way past all the sweaty, dancing bodies and made it out the door, he had his large hand wrapped around my smaller one, his hand felt strong, yet smooth. I found myself silently liking the warmth of his hand in mine.
"You never told me your name, bellissima."
I didn't? "It's Mia. Where exactly are we going?" I asked.
He let go of my hand, turning around to face me as he walked backwards down the sidewalk. Little shops and fast food joints lining a busy Main Street.
"I was thinking we could get something to eat, yes?" It could have been my drunkenness, but I found his accent extremely seductive. His left brow raised in question, but what had most of my attention was the way his broad chest muscles bunched beneath his white button up. How could he walk backwards like that? So easily? Probably because he isn't shît faced, Mia.
Goody-two-shoes Mia' was starting to make feel guilty for being drunk, I had a child to go home to for heaven sakes. Maybe food and coffee wouldn't be such a bad idea. Right, because you wouldn't have went with him if it weren't a good idea, my conscious sneered. She was right though. But, it was a hundred times easier to push that thought to the back of my mind. Way in the back where all the little alien dudes had millions of useless file cabinets.
I nodded my head, "Sounds good, lead the way, Dante." I let out a snort of laughter, "That actually kind of rhymes."
He shook his head, a small smile creeping up his lips. "You're very entertaining when drunk, bellissima."
"What's that mean?" I asked, The way the Italian rolled off his tongue was music to any woman's ears.
"You see, if I tell you, then I'd have to kill you."
I stopped, dead in my tracks. His expression was blank, giving nothing away. My heart beating a frantic tattoo against my chest. His lips twitched, trying to hold back his upcoming hysterics.
"Chop me up in little pieces?" I asked. His smile disappeared quickly. Now, it was my turn to keep from doubling over in laughter. Unfortunately I couldn't hold off as long as he could.
"You should see your face right now!" I rasped out between giggles.
Dante, took me to a small Italian restaurant just a couple blocks from the club. I was already beginning to sober up just from the walk alone, but if I didn't want to wake up with a raging hangover I'd need some food in my stomach and at least a whole pot of coffee.
Dante had a playfulness about him that I found compelling. For too long had I needed to be serious, his lightness took my mind away from all the bullshît in my past and present. Conversations flowed easy with him. But what completely blew my mind was how laid back I actually felt talking to him. I wasn't embarrassed, or tripping over my words every five seconds from nervousness.
My new found confidence could have come from the liquid shots of courage, but it didn't actually matter.
"I recommend the Tortellini Alfredo here, they make the best."
"You come here often?" It sounded so cliché, but I truly wanted to know.
"Everyday actually." He replied nonchalantly, looking over the menu.
I couldn't hardly read most of what was on the menu to begin with, almost everything was in Italian. The phrase -speaking in another language- came to mind. Come to think of it, I'd never actually spoken to a true came-from-Italy person before, and I found myself wanting to know more.
I sat down my menu, and put my elbows on the table, resting my chin atop. "So, what part of Italy are you from?"
He peaked up from his menu, "A small town called Ravello, just off Costiera Amalfitana ." His eyes became distant, dreamy almost.
"What it like, Ravello?" I tried the word out, but it hadn't sounded nearly as beautiful as when he'd said it.
He absentmindedly played with the corner of his menu. "Magnificoa, smells fresh, like the sea. And very green." He smiled "My parents still live there. Have you ever been to Italy, bella?"
"No, I've never been outside of the country. Sounds beautiful though."
The waitress came, a beautiful dark haired woman with massive breast, she spoke fluent Italian to Dante, and I got the sense that they knew each other. He turned to me, a bright smile on his face, "Ladies first."
"I'd like the Tortillini Alfredo and coffee, lots of creamer, please" I wasn't drunk anymore, just slightly buzzed but I needed the coffee and food for a full recovery tomorrow.
"What about you, were you born here?" He asked after the waitress had left us to put in our order.
"I was born in Oklahoma, but I've lived here in Albuquerque for about three years now."
He lifted a perfect brow, "Oklahoma, sounds so boring. Tell me more about yourself."
I thought about Julian and I never really understood why women never mentioned they had kids on the first date, Julian was my pride and joy. It did however make me nervous that he may not want anything to do with me after finding out about me being a twenty-three year old divorcée with a child. But, if he didn't, then it wasn't meant to be, right? Plus, no one ever said this was a date, anyway.
I pulled my shoulders back and lifted my chin. "I have a handsome little boy, he's almost two. He's my world." I thought about mentioning Logan and our divorce. But, for some reason I didn't want to completely scare him away.
He looked baffled, and I suddenly became nervous, "How old are you, bella?"
Is this going to be another, 'Wow you were so young' comment? I really hoped not. "I'll be twenty-three in October. You?"
"I turned twenty-six in February."
"February what? My son was born February 12th."
"The 17th is mine. You have such love in your eyes when you speak of him. And... The father, if you don't mind me asking?"
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "We divorced a year ago."
He scrunched his eye brows together, creating a perfect V between the two. "What did he do?"
How had he known it was Logan that had screwed up? Can he read my mind? "Your face is an open book, bellissima." Yes, he can read your mind, I thought.
"He cheated." I stated trying to hide the hatred from my expression.
"Ahh, what an idiota! Sei la ragazza più bella che abbia mai visto"
I'd lost him after only three words. The only word I had even remotely heard was 'idiot'. I knew enough Spanish to take a guess that it was the same in Italian. At least I'd hoped. I guess my confused face gave me away, once again.
"He's an idiot, I'm lost as to why someone would want to cheat on such a beautiful woman." He said.
My gaze quickly dropped to my hands, trying to hide the blush that crept up my face. It'd been awhile since I'd been complemented, and I'm pretty sure the last time was from Samantha, or my mother...
His finger touched lightly just under my chin, lifting my eyes to his. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen"
****
How freaking cute is that?!
Who do you picture the characters as? I need suggestions.
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