Peter makes it worse by running his thumb over my lips.
“I’m not a good man and you look like you deserve a good guy.”
“I’m a grown ass woman. Don’t tell me what I want.”
He laughs. “Fuck. I love that.”
“What?”
“You’re putting me in my place.”
He leans forward and kisses me. I haven’t kissed another man since I had my first kiss with Kennard. I know. It’s lame. But it’s what I signed up for and what I promised before God. Peter’s boldness melts everything away and the only way I can stop all the feelings from surging in my chest and bursting forth is kissing him back.
I grab Peter’s face… and I kiss him without giving a damn that we just met, he might be bad for me, and we’re standing in the middle of an Italian bar in downtown Buffalo. My heartpounds out of control and my head swims as that first kiss with Peter gets hotter and more intense. I struggle not to moan as his surprisingly full lips suck on mine.
I thought all kissing was cold, clammy, with a hard, pointy tongue. I didn’t realize that kissing could feel like this and I want more of it. My fingers sink into Peter’s beard and I spread the scent of frankincense and patchouli everywhere as his lips part mine and Peter’s tongue slides into my mouth. He grips my waist tighter and pulls me against him.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. Everything is still so new for me that I still feel married but I’m not. Kennard is dead. Mycheaterex-husband is dead. And I don’t have to worry about what anyone thinks about me anymore because eventually, what happened to Kennard will get out and nothing can be worse than the fall out from that. I might as well enjoy myself.
Peter pulls away from me for a moment and when our eyes meet again, we both know…it’s on.I lean in closer and he glances towards the nightclub bathroom, where there might be one or two people engaged in unscrupulous activities.
“We can’t go in there,” I say to him, completely unsure of why I’m even entertaining this. Peter is sexy but… I’m a lawyer and in a pretty fucked up situation emotionally with my last relationship. I shouldn’t be hooking up in bar bathrooms with hot Italian men. It’s not a good way to unwind even if he’s so damn tempting.
Peter grins at me and worsens my willpower as his thumb touches my bottom lip and his eyes remain totally locked onto mine.
“I’ll pay the guy in there $100 to guard the door for us,” he says. “I just… need alone time with you…”
He leans in and whispers to me, “I could use a little quiet too.”
My heart pounds as intensely as the music at the bar. Peter has gone way past dropping hints about what he wants.
Translation: This sexy ass Italian man wants to fuck me against a bathroom wall.
I’m giddy and loopy in a way that doesn’t feel entirely brought on by the alcohol but Peter is too sexy for me to care. He takes my hand and leads me towards the back of the bar. We don’t have to pay anyone to watch the door because it’s empty. I glance over my shoulder for his sister Flora but… I don’t see her.
Peter squeezes my hand and I stop thinking of anyone else. He shoves the bathroom door open and drags me inside. I let him take me away from everything that makes me Aricia. I don’t want to be a mature, put-together lawyer tonight. I want to forget… everything. He grabs my hips again once we’re alone and separated from the loud music pulsing outside.
“You’re so hot,” he murmurs, locking the door behind us and keeping the lights off. There’s a small, glowing blue light in the bathroom, just bright enough that I can roughly make out the features of Peter’s body. The most important features to me right now are those muscles… and the bulge between his legs.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my heart thudding with excitement because I haven’t been called hot inyears.Hearing that compliment from a man who looks like Peter shouldn’t awaken anything in me, but it does. I just haven’t thought of myself as an independent sexual being rather than some man’s sexual object in years.
I didn’t realize that I needed to be free. Peter squeezes my ass as I kiss him back more assertively than before. I squeeze his lower lip between my teeth and when he grunts with satisfaction,I press my hand to Peter’s chest. Our bodies move together until he presses me against the bathroom sink.
“Fuck,” Peter murmurs. He leans forward and his forehead presses against mine. I kiss him one more time but his lips feel… numb.
“Peter?” I whisper. The lean forward descends into a slump. I grab Peter’s face and try to look into his eyes but… he’s not keeping them open. What the fuck? My eyes droop shut and all of a sudden, I don’t feel in control of my seat on the sink.
I try saying Peter’s name again, but I think a bunch of nonsense words slip out of my mouth instead of what I really wanted to say. Peter is totally out of it and I don’t really think it’s just the liquor, but he can’t speak or stand. The enormous hulk of a man loses his balance and his weight presses me back against the mirror.
I can’t get a hold of myself no matter how hard I try. Fuck, I should have known all that muscle would weigh a lot. I grunt and try to push him off of me, but it doesn’t work. I can’t move my lips to scream and by the time Peter passes out in my arms, I feel my consciousness slipping away from me…
I know something is horribly wrong.
Chapter Six
Peter
Ithink I’m having a vivid fucking dream because there’s no way my body could possibly feel this good. In the dream, I have a woman’s legs spread and she knows exactly how to use her sexy, dark-skinned body to please me. In the dream, I roughly spread the woman’s thighs and taste her before entering her. The woman in my dream is exactly like the woman I met in the bar before…
