Page 15 of Meet Me in Montreal

His breath against her face was mint fresh. The subtle notes of his after shave coupled with his raw, natural, masculine scent infiltrated her, overpowered her. It brought her body to attention in a way that made her almost angry.

“You need to back up off me,” she said. But her voice came out shaky, as the heat of his body danced up and down her front. Oh so close but not touching.

“What’s your plan? Get your divorce so you can ride off into the sunset with him?” His lips, soft from her memories, were too close to hers. She turned her face away in defiance, but he grasped her chin with his fingertips and made her face him. Vanessa glared at him. “If that’s what you think, you can forget about it. I’m not giving him the satisfaction.”

His eyes were bright, almost curious, as he gazed into her face, then ran that gaze down her body. His body pressed closer, still not touching but in dangerous proximity. A moan nearly escaped her throat to feel the heat of that big, firm body even through space and layers of material. It made her suddenly slippery with need.

With an insolent finger, he flicked her nipple through her blouse. That single touch almost made her knees buckle. The alarm faded into the background, and everything else ceased to be real and tangible except for him.

He smirked, studying her face. “I thought you hated me, too, and that’s why you wouldn’t talk to me. But now I get it. You’re scared.”

“Scared of you? Please,” she scoffed breathlessly.

“Damn right, you are. Scared of what you want me to do to you. You’re scared to be alone with me because you want me to touch you. That whole time you sat in that chair, looking all prim and proper, I could tell how much you wanted my dick inside you. I’ll bet you’re wet right now.” Vanessa gasped when he ran one hand up her thigh, higher under her skirt until his fingerswere tracing the line of her pussy through her damp underwear. He released an unsteady breath. “I was right. So wet I could wear it like cologne.”

Santino grinned. The air in the elevator grew heavier, hotter. He tormented her with his lips, not kissing her, barely skimming the corner of her mouth. He cupped her pussy through her drenched panties, zeroing in on her special spot. Then he slipped his hand inside the cloth and stroked it, lightly at first, then harder, in leisurely little circles that almost undid her.

Vanessa grabbed his wrist and stopped him, summoning a strength she honestly didn’t know she had.

He withdrew his hand reluctantly. “Alright, I’ll stop. But nobody else gets to enjoy my pussy, not as long as that marriage certificate is still good.Mi capisci, tesoro? Nobody. And especially not him. I think he’s bad news. Unless you’ve changed your mind, and a bad guy is what you really want after all.”

His breath hot against the skin of her cheek, he didn’t move away despite her push against his hard pecs.

“Does my good girl want a bad guy?”

“I –” Her brain was short-circuiting. She couldn’t think of a quick comeback or a disparaging remark fast enough. “Santino, leave me alone,” she whispered shakily.

Lost in this moment, in the erotic daze he’d thrust her in, she had to lean against the elevator for support while he stared at her through lowered lashes, his breathing still heavy, like hers.

“You don’t want him. End it,” he rasped.

Her heart was still galloping. “I can do whatever I want with whomever I want.” Her mind sharpening as the lust faded and a deeper panic rolled in, the words formed and came faster, tumbling out of her. “And don’t touch me again. I don’t belong to you. That marriage certificate is as meaningless to me now as it was to you then. I’m sure you’re hitting everything that moves anyway, so go fuck someone else.”

Santino glowered over her but finally stepped back. And not a minute too soon. Panting and pushing her hair out of her flushed face, she tried to catch her breath while he adjusted the huge, very obvious bulge in his trousers. With his nostrils flared, he set the elevator in motion again with another slap of that wicked hand. As the journey commenced, he shoved his hands back in his pockets.

“Fuck someone else?” he said with a shake of his head. “If anybody’s gonna fuck me, it’s gonna be you,wifey.”

Her body sizzled at that little term of endearment. That’s what he called her on their wedding night at the Li Mirage in Aruba when he’d ravaged her body, repeatedly. She’d been so thoroughly banged out and loved on that she’d been unable to walk the next morning. He’d brought her breakfast in bed, and she’d been blissfully, stupidly happy. But now, all the bitter and the sweet of that memory just made her sad.

“You’re wrong. I am never fucking you again,” she fired back, blinking away sudden tears of rage. “And I’m moving on with my life, whether you like it or not. What I do doesn’t concern you anymore.”

One eyebrow lifted at her declaration. “Oh, really? Okay. $5,000 a month is what we settled on, right? I put that money on that motherfucker being exactly what I think he is, and another five grand on youbeggingto ride this dick when you realize you should have never left me in the first place.”

He gripped said dick through his pants for emphasis. She was ashamed at how her mouth fucking watered, imagining the taste of it, remembering the shape and texture she’d memorized with her tongue.

How she wanted him.

How shehatedhim.

“And as for those papers? I’m not signing shit.”

The elevator reached the lobby. Santino strode out the second the doors opened, leaving her against the elevator wall, shaking. Everything he’d touched was still on fire. The people waiting to get on stared after him and then at her. With sudden embarrassment, she wondered if they could smell her arousal in the close space of the elevator and guess what had happened, what she’dallowedSantino to do to her body and her head.

As she stumbled through the lobby to the nearly blinding sunlight outside, her mind raced, trying to fathom what the fuck had just happened and how he knew what he did about Scott. Had he sicced a private investigator on her?

She slowed, her raging blood turning volcanic. If he thought she was going to stop seeing Scott simply because he said so, she was even more determined to see it through.

Montreal or bust.

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