Page 78 of The Wrong Move

I lift one foot, then the other, almost hop on the hot cobblestones. The woman peers down.

“Mother of God, please no.”

She lifts one of the pastries and sniffs it. “Patrizia?”

I nod, thanking the freaking gods she understands. Wait.No, no, no.I’m not Patrizia’s toyboy.

“Giana,” I clarify, averting my eyes and looking to the stairs.

“Giana,” she repeats and grins before turning to her friends. “Giana,” she announces.

She steps to the side like Gandalf allowing me to pass, takes a good look at my ass, then repents by making the sign of the cross over her body.

Fuck me.

My legs propel me forward, and I take the stairs two at a time, giving the audience below a terrestrial view of my butt and balls.

“Bel culo,” she shouts, and the women giggle.

I slow near the top to find Giana leaning over the ledge, elbows bent, her chin resting on her hand, watching me. An amused expression quirks up her lips. “Bel culo,” she says and straightens.

I pass the tray over to her.

She is wearing my white shirt. It’s open, and she has nothing underneath.

“What the fuck, Gigi? Someone will see you.”

She tilts her head and smirks. “Well, everyone has seen you. I heard giggling and something about a gorgeous naked man. I jumped up to look out my window and saw you running down the street with the tray. The ladies are right in saying you have a nice ass.” She giggles, picks up a pastry, and takes a bite. “This is probably the most excitement they’ve had in a while,” she says, with a mouthful of croissant.

I close the door behind us. Keeping my hand on the door, I bow my head. My heart is racing. I’m no prude, but that was mortifying, and the thought of being arrested in a foreign country?—

“You know I can never come back, right?” I say to Giana.

Giana laughs so hard she holds her stomach with one hand and her croissant in the other.That’s it.I stride to her and scoop her up and over my shoulder, smacking her ass as I walk into the bathroom. I lower her to the tiles and turn on the water, then push her under the spray until my shirt is soaked and clinging to her body.

I stroke my cock as I watch the water trickle down her beautiful face, snake down the middle of her stomach where my shirt isn’t stuck to her skin, then roll down her thighs. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” I keep stroking my cock. Her hand glides over her stomach to her clit. She spreads her legs, watching me as I watch her touch herself. The first moan that comes from those plump lips has me on my knees, pushing her hand away so I can taste her.

She reaches over me and turns off the water.

“Best you save the water to cool down your pussy,” I murmur. “By the time I’m finished, you’ll need the spray to ease the throb.”

I spin her around, grab the scruff of her neck, and bend her so her ass is in the air, then push inside her, and her hips roll back to meet mine in a steady rhythm. It’s a beat of mutual understanding, one we easily dance to. We know the moves, understand our bodies’ needs, and up the tempo until the song finishes. Except, I don’t want this song to end and don’t want to stop dancing with Giana. She makes everything right, and when we fuck, there is no better sound.

Holding her hips, I piston into her at a fast pace. My balls smack her ass, and her heavy sighs fill the air. Leaning over herback, I hug her. Her breasts bounce hard with every thrust. I’m building fast, and I hear her come, my name rolling off her lips and her knees buckling. I hold her steady, pump into her a few more times, and shudder as I empty everything I have into her. This time, I twist the faucet, and the water sprays over us as we slide to the tiles, my arms still wrapped around her body. I turn my head so the water sprays over my face, then catch my breath.

“Next time, call ahead. I’ll pay the power bill before we arrive.”

Giana laughs, pulls off me, and slides on top. She smothers my face with her kisses. “You can’t deny it’s been fun.”

“If that torture is what you call fun, then yes, it’s been fun.” I laugh at her expression when her bottom lip drops. “No, seriously.” I reach up and turn the faucet so the water shuts off again. “This is real fun.”

She slaps my chest playfully. “You like it, admit it.”

Giana is sitting on top of me while I lie on her shower floor. Her wet hair clings to her face and shoulders. Water droplets cascade over her beautiful breasts and along her tanned body. I massage her beautiful tits. Tilting her head back, she closes her eyes and moans. “I’m just drying you off,” I whisper. “I hear there is a towel shortage.”

Her eyes fling open and narrow at me. I laugh but continue touching her body. “Giana,” I murmur. She stares at me and waits, though she gives me a look that suggests she doesn’t trust what’s about to come out of my mouth. I look side to side to make a point. “Here or anywhere, if I’m with you, it’s going to feel like heaven.”

She stares at me and realizes I’m being truthful. She leans down and kisses my lips, her tongue finding mine, her mouth telling me she feels the same way.

---