A womanizing friend of mine in New York once joked that immediately after sex, “a woman should turn into a six-pack and a pizza,” and at the time I agreed. But right now, touching this diminutive, inked goddess, I never want to let her go.
She sags back against me, and her golden eyes close. “You’re awful.”
“Too true.” My fingertips follow the path of her trimmed line of pubic hair, and she emits a pleased-sounding sigh as I circle her clit.
“Sandy…”
“Yes, my seraph?” I dip two fingers inside her, dragging their slickness back up to aid my caresses.
“You’re gonna make me late.”
“I’m going to make you come.”
She cocks her arse back against me and groans in frustrated pleasure. I move my lips along the curve of her neck, lifting her thin shirt and stroking one of her nipples.
“You won’t let me kiss that stubborn mouth,” I murmur, “but perhaps I could kiss you here?” My fingers spread to glide along both sides of her swelling clit. “I want to bring you to the edge while you pant and beg and grind against my face.” I sink into her heat again. “Fingers right…here”—I go in deep and brush the border of her G-spot—“as I lap up your sweetness and send you mad.”
Her knees sag, and she turns in my arms, looking up at me from a foot below. “Okay, listen,” she whispers. “I’m not, uh… we’re not seeing each other again this week, got it?”
My heart sinks. “All right.”
“But—change of plans—it’s a solid ‘maybe’ for a date the week of the GP in Imola. I still want to fuck you. You’re, uh, entertaining.”
“A ringing endorsement,” I tease.
She takes a step back and delivers a playful punch to myabs. “You don’t need my endorsement. Your name and that smile probably get you everything you want already.”
I move an escaped coil of pastel-blue hair off her shoulder. “You like my smile?”
She inspects my face, her plump lower lip snagged between her teeth in thought. “Yeah, you’re okay. Where, um, did you get the scar that fucked up your eyebrow?”
“Fighting a dragon.” I tap her chin with a fingertip and turn away, headed for the bedroom so she’ll follow me.
Sage vaults onto the bed as I gather my clothes and starts to jump on it like a trampoline, arms over her head. Stretching high, she grazes the ceiling with her fingers and loud-whispers, “Got it!” before dropping into a seated pose. I’m once again charmed by her unrestrained physicality.
“So you’re not gonna tell me?” she asks, pointing at my face. “I’ll bet it was some pissed off husband who found you in bed with his wife.”
“You’ve a fertile imagination,” I say, stepping into my trousers. “But it was nothing of the sort. Deliver on that date in two weeks and perhaps you can coax the story out of me.”
She flops onto her stomach and props her chin on a palm. “Yeah, maybe. There are some great nightclubs in Ravenna though, sooooo… I might be too busy to hang out with you.”
“My family has a small villa in Ravenna. I wonder where you’d have more fun?”
“Ooh, big talk,” she taunts.
I hold her eyes with a wicked smile as I zip my fly. “I assure you, I can back it up.”
As I sit in the chair that still faintly radiates the scent of sex,then lean to put on my socks and shoes, Sage watches me with the detachment one has for a muted television at the gym. I stand and take up my shirt, sliding it on, and Sage bounds off the bed.
“Here, lemme fix that,” she says nonspecifically, going to her suitcase and digging about. She locates some small item and comes over to me. When she clasps it between her teeth to free both hands to fasten my shirt, I see that it’s a tiny round metal pin, the decorative type one puts on a jacket. She pops it open and uses it as one would a nappy pin, skewering it through the part of my placket with the missing button. I look down. It’s red on black, theDKsymbol of the punk band Dead Kennedys. “There ya go,” she says with a pat to my chest. “All better.”
I chuckle. “That’s a look, isn’t it? But needs must. If you happen to know where my fallen button has gone, I’ll take it—my tailor can put it back on.”
“Jesus Christ,you have a tailor.” She circles the DK pin with a fingertip. “I know where it is, but I’m keeping it. A souvenir.”
A wave of unexpected tenderness goes through me. I settle my hands on her hips. “Bloody hell, I want to kiss you, Salvi.”
“I know…” Her tone is cautious.
