Page 13 of Hot Moves

We climb a set of stairs and the passage opens up, leading to the main deck. The space is breathtaking with wide views of the endless ocean and the morning sun casting golden hues over everything. The air is fresh and crisp, carrying the scent of salt mixed with sunshine.

Lorenzo stands by a table set for breakfast, his back to me as he gazes out at the sea. He looks every bit the powerful, enigmatic figure that has taken center stage in my life. When he turns, his expression softens, and a genuine smile touches his lips.

“Bambolina,” he greets me, his voice warm. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” I respond, feeling a sudden flutter in my chest.

He gestures to the table, a spread of breakfast delights awaiting us. My mouth waters when I glance at the huge array of fresh fruit, pastries, bacon, and sausage along with a huge pot of steaming coffee. “I hope you’re hungry.”

I chuckle a little when I see a mimosa sitting at my place. The sight and smell of the food make me realize just how hungry I am. “I am, thank you. This looks wonderful.”

We sit, and as I sip my coffee, I can’t help but marvel at the contrast between this serene moment and the chaos that surrounds us. Lorenzo watches me, his eyes holding that familiar intensity, but there’s a gentleness, too.

I Googled him last night and found out more than I wanted to know. A part of me knows I should be terrified of the powerful mafia boss, but I can’t find those feelings. Instead, I’m filled with unexplained hunger and the desire to see where this relationship could lead.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, his tone casual but his gaze searching.

“I slept well, thank you. I had… interesting dreams,” I admit and almost smack my forehead at the slip of the tongue. I feel my cheeks warming under his scrutiny, and I barely resist the urge to squirm from the heat shining from his dark brown eyes.

He raises an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his expression. “Interesting how?”

I hesitate, wondering how much to reveal. “Just… scenes of the ocean and being safe. It’s strange, considering everything.”

“Dreams can be strange like that,” he muses, his eyes never leaving mine. “But sometimes, they reflect our deepest hopes.”

We eat in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the ocean a soothing backdrop. As I pick at a piece of pineapple, I gather my courage to ask the question that’s been on my mind.

“Lorenzo, what happens now?”

He pauses, setting down his fork. “Now, we head back to New York. I want to make sure you’re safe, and to do that, I need to deal with the threats against us. Against you.”

I nod, understanding the necessity, even as a knot of fear forms in my stomach. “And after that?”

He reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. The warmth of his touch is both grounding and electrifying. “After that, we see what the future holds. But no matter what, I promise you, Mira, I will keep you safe.”

For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of us, the vast ocean a silent witness to this fragile connection. Lorenzo’s eyes, so dark and intense, offer a haven I hadn’t expected to find in such turbulent times.

“Thank you,” I whisper, squeezing his hand. “For everything.”

He smiles, allowing what feels like a rare and genuine expression. “You don’t need to thank me. I want to take care of you.”

We finish breakfast, and for a while, we simply enjoy the tranquility, the unspoken bond between us growing stronger with each passing moment. Despite the dangers that lie ahead, I enjoy the quiet time with him.

Lorenzo and I spend the morning lounging in comfortable deck chairs, the gentle sway of the vessel and the endless expanse of blue helping me to forget all my worries.

A few minutes ago, I moved from the lounger in the shade to the one next to Lorenzo’s in the full sun. I let out a contented sigh as he hands me a bottle of sunscreen. “You should put some more on,” he says, his voice smooth and rich. “You know how easily you burn.” Boy, do I ever. The slight sunburn I got two days ago has faded, but I know it would be all too easy to reinjure my sensitive skin.

“I could use some help with my back,” I reply, trying to keep my tone casual but feeling a flutter of anticipation in my stomach.

He takes the bottle from me with a slight smile that makes my heart skip a beat. “Of course.”

I turn my back to him, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. A shiver runs through me as his hands, strong yet gentle, begin to spread the cool lotion across my shoulders. His touch is electric, sending a tingle down my spine. He moves slowly, methodically, his fingers working the sunscreen into my skin with a tenderness that takes my breath away and causes my virgin girly bits to wake up.

Each stroke of his hands is a whisper of warmth, a promise of something deeper. I can feel his breath, soft against my neck, and it takes all my willpower not to melt completely under his touch.

“Is this alright?” he asks, his voice a low murmur, close to my ear. His warm breath brushes against the sensitive spot under my ear, causing goosebumps to break out all over my body.

“Yes,” I moan, my eyes closing as I give in to the sensation. “More than alright.”

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