I handed Ricky the two old-fashioneds, a margarita, and a Scotch. “Table four.”
“Got it.”
Luis came up to the bar with a steaming plate of fettuccini with shrimp and broccoli rabe, tossed in a light tomato sauce with fresh parmesan. A half loaf of crusty bread accompanied the food.
“Frisco said this was for you. He figured you were hungry and told me to tell you these weren’t beefsteak tomatoes.” He snickered. “As if anyone would use them for sauce.” Shaking his head and laughing, he walked back to the kitchen and disappeared behind the door.
Hunger overtook surprise at Frisco’s thoughtfulness, and I dug into the dish. The flavors and ingredients meshed so beautifully, I moaned around my fork. The pasta was homemade and melted in my mouth. I took another forkful of heaven and closed my eyes in ecstasy.
“Keep it quiet, or someone might get the wrong idea.”
I opened my eyes to face a laughing Frisco. His blue eyes danced, and his face was flushed with heat. Sweaty and damp from the kitchen, he’d never looked more desirable. I didn’t stop to remember we were in public—I leaned forward and pressed my mouth to his.
“Mmm.” He licked along the seam of my lips and slipped his tongue in to meet mine for a sweet, hot second. “Delicious. Both the kiss and the taste.”
“The chef might be a diva, but he knows how to deliver.” I brushed my lips to his. “I have to get back to work. If this goes any further, Mike might get shut down for indecency.”
He tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck and held me close. “I want to get indecent with you later. Can I?”
The blue pools of his hopeful eyes held me tethered to him, and I nodded. “Yeah. Stay with me tonight.”
* * *
We stumbled into my apartment, and I managed to shut the door behind me before I let Frisco pin me to the wall. “That pasta was delicious.”
“You’re delicious. Your mouth.” Frisco kissed me. “Your chin.” He licked the cleft and scraped his teeth along my jaw.
I arched against his insistent lips. “Thanks for helping my brother.”
Breathless, his mouth wet, Frisco met my gaze. “I didn’t do it for him.” Another kiss, this time along my neck, and he sucked the tender skin beneath my jaw and along my collarbone. “I did it for you. Come on.”
We hit the bed, our mouths locked together in a kiss so frantic and hot, it was my turn to be breathless. Frisco sat back on his heels, and with eyes glittering in the half darkness, unbuttoned his chef’s coat and threw it in the corner. The black T-shirt he wore underneath stretched across his chest, accentuating every ripple and bulge of his arms. Lust pooled in my belly, and my cock stiffened. I ran my hands over his firm chest and tugged the bottom halfway up his abs.
“Off.”
His smile gleamed white. “I like a man who’s anxious.” He peeled the shirt off and dropped it, then leaned down to take my mouth again. “And I like you. Like this. Under me. Naked, spread out, begging. Let’s make that happen.”
His sure fingers undid my button-up and pushed it off my shoulders while I dealt with the zipper of my slacks and wriggled them off. The thrust of my cock through my damp briefs left nothing to the imagination. I hadn’t been this turned-on, this needy, with any man ever before. Tense, hot, and pulsing, I craved the push of him inside me.
With our eyes locked, I hooked my fingers in the waistband of my briefs and pushed them over my hips. My cock rose up to my quivering belly, and I wrapped my hand around it, giving it long, lazy strokes.
“Bello,” Frisco breathed and stripped his pants and briefs off, leaving him as naked as I was. On the bed, he covered my hand with his and slowly rubbed the swollen, leaking head of my cock with his thumb.
“Ahh, fuck.” I arched up, my back bowing off the bed, but Frisco held on and kept up that maddeningly unhurried and teasing movement.
“That’s it,bello. You want me to fuck you? Stuff you so full, you’ll never forget me? I want that too. Since the first time I saw you, I wanted inside that hot, tight ass of yours.”
I moaned, a full-body shudder rolling through me at his outrageous words. Calling mebello—beautiful in Italian—melted my bones to butter. Who was I? I’d never fallen for lines like that, but Frisco had me hungry and out of control. I couldn’t take a deep breath and gasped, trying to drag in enough air.
Without even asking, Frisco went to my nightstand, found my lube and condoms, and crawled over to me. His long, dark shape loomed above me, and I reached up to pull him to me for a kiss, needing the feel of his lips on mine.
Our parted lips met, tongues parrying, licking, tasting. His mouth moved over mine, surprisingly soft and gentle, urging cries of pleasure from me. He didn’t have to work that hard. His mouth was everywhere: sucking at the lobe of my ear, spreading kisses across my throat to my collarbones, lapping at my pecs. Wet warmth encased one pointy nipple, and I cried out as he flicked one sensitive tip with his tongue while he rolled and lightly pinched the other, alternating until they both throbbed. Fire burned in my belly, spreading like honey through my blood.
I squirmed and thrashed underneath that evil flickering tongue, my cock full and aching. Pushing my hips up to meet his, I moaned, a broken sound, desperate for that friction I craved.
“You like that,bello?” I heard the note of satisfaction in his voice, but I had no time to answer as he spread me wide open and pushed one cool, slick finger inside. I’d hoped to get his mouth on my cock and feel his tongue on my balls, but I couldn’t complain as my body lit up.
That stretch and burn…I’d almost forgotten its delicious agony. Not that I’d had so many men, but Frisco was like no other lover. His hands moved over my body with sure precision, intuitive to where I’d be most sensitive. A quick upward glance found his intense expression, at odds with the gentleness of his touch. Comparing him to anyone else was akin to comparing fine wine with cooking sherry. He added a second finger.
