Page 61 of Love Lessons
“All right.” I do exactly that, dropping the bags from my hands. And even as they hit the floor, I’m crossing the room to where she stands.
She makes a small noise of surprise as I swiftly remove the wineglass from her hand, set it on the mantel, and pull her against me.
And, yup, I’ve needed to do this all day. She tastes like wine and sunshine as I steal the first kiss. Her mouth is firm beneath mine for at least a half a second. Then she softens, her arms sliding around my body as I back her up against the bathroom door.
I pin her against the wood, plundering her mouth. My desire roars to life like a fire with fresh fuel. The whimper she makes stirs me up even more.
“Contessa,” I rasp. “Don’t you want to practice your technique?”
She lifts slightly dazed eyes to mine. “Yes?”
“Then where was my kiss hello? And I didn’t get a single sexy text from you today. No teasing. No dressing room selfies. No, ‘I can’t stop thinking about the way I came all over your tongue last night, Ian’.”
She groans and then kisses me again, shutting me up.
So naturally I break the kiss and take a step backward. “Gotta leave ’em wanting more, honey. Now was there something you wanted to show me?”
She just blinks at me for a moment before recovering herself. “I bought you a few things. Shirts and a pair of chinos. Everything is returnable.”
“Ah, my favorite topic,” I tease. “Fashion. Are the shirts all cotton?”
“What? You think I’dforget?” She gives me an irritable look. “Let me show you.”
Vera crosses to her bounty and pulls out a couple of bags from the pile. She unwraps two button-down shirts—one is blue with a subtle white thread pattern and the other is white with dove-gray checks. “These colors will coordinate well with your coloring. And feel the seams.” She passes me a shirt.
I tuck my hand inside the collar and run a finger along the shoulder seam. It’s soft to the touch and barely there. “Nice pick, contessa. I’ll totally wear these.”
Her smile pops back into place. “I’ll wash them both if you think they’ll work for you. And these are the pants.” She thrusts them into my hands. “The fabric is just so lovely, and they’re cut in a way that accommodates a hockey butt.”
I laugh. “Yeah, baby! This is the first I’ve heard that you noticed my ass.” I turn around slowly and wiggle it a little, just to be, well, an ass.
“Oh, I definitely noticed it. In a professional capacity.” She gives me a sly smile.
“See, this is a good lesson. Part of seduction is letting a guy know you’ve noticed things about him. You told me a minute ago that the shirts will—” I mimic her. “—coordinate with my coloring. But youcouldhave turned that into a compliment.”
She rolls her eyes. “I think you’re just fishing for compliments. It’s not like you don’t know you’re hot.”
“Hey now. That’s where you’re a little mixed up.” I cup her face in one hand and stroke her cheek with my thumb. And her expression softens. “Nobody feels desirable all the time, unless he’s truly obnoxious. So don’t assume that the dude you’re trying to seduce won’t want to be reminded that he turns you on. Trust me, he wants to hear it. No matter who he is. Besides, if you make the assumption that he’s on some higher plane, then you’re putting the guy on a pedestal he probably doesn’t deserve.”
Her big eyes dip. She rubs her cheek into my hand like a happy cat before lifting her gaze to mine once again. “Well, Mr. Crikey…” She takes a deep breath. “If you must know, I think you’re the hottest thing on two legs. It’s a miracle I didn’t buy all the wrong things in all the wrong sizes today. Because I barely had two brain cells at my disposal. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, especially when I was choosing clothes for you. I practically needed a cold shower afterward.”
I grin just picturing that. And hell, itisflattering. “Now that’s a compliment, contessa. Nice work. A-plus grade from your tutor.”
“Thank you.” She takes a step back. “There’s something more I’d like to give you now.”
“Is it another blowjob?” I ask hopefully.
“No sir,” she says with a smile before turning toward her shopping bags. “How do you feel about wool?”
I make a face, because wool is not half as interesting to me as she is. “It’s what suits are made of? It’s fine. Why do you ask?”
“These are wildly expensive, but also returnable. Could you try this on?” She pulls out a soft gray tee. “This is merino, which is unusual in a T-shirt. But the people who love woolreallylove it. It wicks like synthetics. And you said that synthetics are a problem for you. This could be a solution. And the salesman swore there was no sizing on the fabric. Wool doesn’t need it.”
“All right, contessa. I’ll try anything once. If I break out in hives, you can give me a soothing sponge bath.”
She blushes. “It’s a deal. Here.”
“Maybe you’re just trying to get me naked,” I tease, shucking off my shirt. I pull the new one carefully over my head. If she hadn’t told me it was wool, I don’t think I would have guessed, because the fabric isn’t thick or hairy like a sweater. “It’s super soft,” I point out as the fabric slides into place on my chest. “I’ll give this a try.”
