Page 71 of Casanova LLC

“Where?”

“Couple choices.” Closer. “A casual trattoria around the corner. Or I know the somm at a Michelin place. Seven-course tasting menu kind of thing.”

“Sounds…” Her eyes dropped to my mouth as I advanced. “Filling. Or?”

“Musica a Palazzo.”

It took her a moment to hear what I’d said and to realize she didn’t understand it. Her eyes came back to mine. “What?”

“It’s a company of performers who stage an opera in a palazzo. They’re fantastic.” I backed her up against the stone banister. “Tonight is Tristan und Isolde,” I murmured. “Wagner.”

She swallowed. “I would love that.” My heart sank. But then she said, again, “Or?”

“Or.” I braced my hands on either side of her, pinning her in. Dropped my mouth to her neck. “We stay in.”

She shuddered. And tried to speak normally. “Do we have something to eat here?”

I ran my open lips over her ear. “I do.” Nudged her legs apart with my knee. “But you’ll be well-fed, too.”

“That,” she said on a sigh, “that ‘or.’ Let me just go clean up for a bit.”

I didn’t want to let her go. I aligned our bodies, pulled back to look in her eyes, and let myself harden. I didn’t grind against her. I just stared at her, watching her feel my growing desire. “Do you know how difficult it was for me to leave you last night?”

“No, actually.”

“Well, it was.” Her eyes blurred with skepticism so I felt compelled to add: “I went upstairs and fucked my hand.”

Those same eyes sharpened with lust. “You did?”

“While thinking about you.”

“What were you…thinking about?”

I would have grabbed her breast then, slipped a hand down her jeans. But she was still bundled up in her thick puffer coat from the boat ride. So I settled for running a hand through her hair and tugging her head back. I pressed slightly forward, letting my fullness find her. “I’d prefer to show you. If you’d like. Tonight?”

In answer, she pushed her lower half fully into me and, at the sudden intrusion of a sharp pain at my hip, I reared back. “Ow!” My hand went to her waist, fishing for the culprit. “What in the hell…”

She giggled. “Sorry, I forgot that was still in there.”

From her pocket, I retrieved the forcola. I held it up teasingly between us. “You could do serious damage with this. It’s ebony. One of the hardest woods in the world.”

Her eyes went to my crotch. “If it’s a competition, I think you’d win.” Cheekily, she plucked it out of my hand. “What did he say, at the shop? That each section corresponds to different parts of the human body? How the gondoliere steers by working his oar in different parts of the forcola?” She turned it over in her hand, considering it. “Hmm. We should try that.”

“Claire.” She was driving me insane. “If you want to get ready, go now.”

“Or what?”

“I will take you right here.”

A devilish grin transformed her face and she let it linger, taunting me. But she slipped out of my embrace and went to the stairs.

“When should I expect you?” I called after her.

“Couple hours?”

“Couple hours? Claire.”

She threw a casual look over her shoulder, continuing to climb, and said, as if asking for me to pass her the salt, “Feel free to hand-fuck yourself while you wait.”

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