Page 35 of Meet Me in Montreal

SANTINO

Six years ago

Even though he knew she was meant to be his, Vanessa hadn’t caught on to that fact right away. In the first place, she didn’t like that he was younger. It took two weeks of him “running into her” at the building and in the neighborhood and asking her out before she agreed to their first date for dinner at a restaurant downtown. Over their meal, she couldn’t seem to stop staring at his mouth and his pulse pounded harder, wondering what her lips tasted like, imagining kissing and sucking on them when he was inside her. The thought of that made him sweaty and full of a sudden, desperate hope he’d never felt before.

She thought he was after her “for ass,” and assumed he was hitting everything in sight every weekend. Deciding she couldn’t take him seriously didn’t stop her from letting him into her place at the end of their dates, since he was still living at his parents’ on City Island. At first it was just kissing, whichgot deeper and heavier, and then it was his hand up her shirt fumbling to get her bra off. Then his mouth on those sweet tits as his fingers explored her pussy.

Her one directive: “The clit needs a lot of love.” He made a note of that and followed that rule like it was his new religion.

As for him, he’d gotten hand jobs before, and a couple of drunken blowjobs at parties. They’d been nice but not earthshattering. His first time tasting a woman was with Vanessa. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing but she didn’t seem to mind because she’d told him where she liked being licked and when she was breathless and moaning, “There, don’t stop,” he’d listened. The higher moans that had followed and the flood of salted honey in his mouth let him know he’d done something right. Her scent, her flavor, all of it was sublime. And he was fucking hooked on all of it, all of her.

When she blew him, it was nothing like those fumbling, desperate girls who didn’t know what to do with their teeth or who used painful kung fu death grips. She was enthusiastic but skilled, taking control of his cock and drawing out his pleasure until he erupted in her waiting mouth. Hooked again, and this time the addiction had gone deeper. He found himself staring at her lips when she ate, when she drank, craving the feel of them under his own mouth or on his body.

Then one night, he’d come over with take-out, exhausted from the job. She’d been wiped from her week at work and school and wanted to stay in. Even though she claimed to be tired, when he’d come in and kissed her, that smile was a thousand watts strong. She was watching HGTV, and he quirked an eyebrow at her choice.

“You really like this stuff?” he asked, gesturing at the screen.

“Yeah, guilty pleasure. This place is falling apart but at least I can try to make it look nice while it does,” she said, gesturing tothe cracking white walls of her apartment. “I guess you’re not a fan.”

“Never watched before,” he said with a shrug, which was true. By the end of the Chinese food and three more episodes with stunning reveals of the finished homes, he was a fucking fan after all, but he kept that to himself.

Vanessa got up to wash the few dishes. Santino leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed and studied her in the light of her kitchen. The glow was warm and lovely on her dark chestnut skin. After a while, she noticed him staring.

“What?” she asked with an amused grin.

“You’re beautiful,” he responded.

Vanessa tossed her single long braid over her shoulder and rolled her eyes, but that grin deepened. “Beautiful, huh?”

“Yeah. You’re gorgeous.”

“Your mama didn’t tell you staring is rude?” she followed up coyly, wiping the dishes and putting them in the cabinet.

“She did. Sorry, I’m not used to you yet.”

“When do you think you’ll get used to me?”

“Probably never.”

That earned him another laugh, a low, sexy giggle that made his dick hard. “I give it three months.” Vanessa turned and ran her gaze down his body. Apparently, the thin gray sweatpants he was wearing weren’t doing a great job hiding his excitement. She practically licked her lips, her eyes darting to the clock on the wall. The smile now reached the dark eyes that locked with his. “Anyway, it’s late. Are you on shift tomorrow?”

“No.” The smile and that question both jolted his cock, making it even more obvious through his sweats.

“Oh. I wish you could hang out a little longer, but I don’t like it when you get back on the road on a Friday or Saturdaynight with people driving crazy. Maybe you should plan to stay over.”

It was weird how those words could hit him so hard in two different places at once, his head and his dick. “You’re right. People do drive crazy. I should stay.”

His heart was thrumming, nearly pounding its way out of his chest. He crossed the small space and pressed her against the sink, kissing her full lips. Something told him tonight would be different for them, for him. But he was untested, unsure. Should he say something? Just dive in, copy what those porn guys did and hope his inexperience wouldn’t show?

But she was pulling him by the hand into her bedroom decorated in soft, soothing pinks and yellows, and onto the queen bed.

“Touch me, Santino,” Vanessa whispered.

“Okay.” His voice was unsteady, husky with desire. It sounded like some other person entirely.

That desire couldn’t completely overcome the nervousness as he cupped her face between his palms and kissed her harder, then touched her breast, firm and warm. It was a hot night, and her apartment was sweltering, her skin under her tank top damp to the touch. As his dick got harder, his nerves grew tauter like a rubber band stretched to snapping.

Tommy had told him, “When a woman is disappointed in bed, they’ll most likely ghost your ass the very next day. There are too many willing men out there who know what the fuck they’re doing to think no one will take your place.”

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