Page 46 of Meet Me in Montreal

They finished up at the park after that. Later that night, one of the bigger acts was playing, the Bill Frisell Trio, composed of Frisell the jazz guitarist, bassist Thomas Morgan, and drummer Rudy Royston. As they sat on the grass at the outdoor venue, Santino found the notes of their third song familiar.

“James Bond,” she murmured in his ear. She was right. It was the jazzed version of the theme song fromYou Only Live Twice.

Santino had never been a jazz lover, but he loved the way they played this song, the emotion in it, the way the music rolled over them like a warm, gentle ocean wave. Vanessa leaned against him, dreamy and soft, watching a pair of fireflies that were dancing in time nearby. While the music was relaxing her, carrying her away, he was flooded by her, by that softness, that return to tenderness he’d missed so much.

He ached for her, but not with the bitterness he’d been carrying for so long. That bitterness had been slipping away the more time they’d spent together, the more she’d opened up her thoughts and emotions to him in a way she never had before. This ache was for more, more of the real Vanessa he’d shared a home with, but now realized he still hadn’t fully known.

15

FOUND YOU

VANESSA

The concert was the perfect ending to the best day Vanessa had had in a long time. As she and Santino returned to the hotel, talking about the awesome performance and his plan for the following day, she was suddenly tongue-tied and wide-eyed at the thought of getting back in that big bed with him again. Time away from it had taken the pressure off. They hadn’t mentioned what had occurred in it that morning, but now, the prospect of what could happen next, the anticipation of more, was causing the tempo of her heartbeat to pick up.

Santino kicked off his shoes as they entered the suite. That was the first time he’d ever done that without being asked. Her pussy fuckingfluttered. When he turned to look at her, she avoided his watchful stare and the sensuous curve of his full lips into a knowing smile.

“I, um…I’ve been sitting on every piece of ground in this city the entire day, so I think I might need to hit the shower,” she announced, angling her thumb in the direction of the bathroomlike that neon cowboy sign on the Vegas strip. Was that thing still even in Vegas? They’d done so much remodeling. It probably wasn’t there anymore. What about the Bellagio?

Aaaannnd there she went, her nervous brain looking to latch on to anything but the gorgeous man slowly pulling off his shirt and advancing toward her, his muscles undulating like liquid gold in the lamplight. He was a hair’s breadth away, and her skin tingled at the thought of being touched and stroked by him again. He was so close she inhaled a lungful of his scent. She gotten a look at the bottle when she was alone and it comprised of ginger and bergamot, with a hint of musk. Even without it, he was a walking pheromone.

“I think I need a shower, too,” he announced in a low, gruff voice, his eyes taunting as they ran up and down her body.

“Okay, we can take turns. I’ll be quick,” she said hastily, backing away.

“It’s a big shower. I think there’s room for two. Relax,tesoro.” His chuckle sent a flood of desire to pool in her belly and trickle further below. He hadn’t even touched her yet and her nipples were already stiffening. “It’s just a shower. I mean, I haven’t seen you hit the ATM for my five grand, so I know you’re not interested.”

Santino took her by the shoulders before she could protest again and propelled her into the bedroom and then the bathroom. As they went, he took turns pulling their clothes off, dropping each item on the floor and making a mess along the way. Her shirt, then his, her pants, his khakis, and his underwear. His huge dick bobbed up and down when she turned to glance, already fully hard, and damn, there went the waterworks between her thighs as he unhooked her bra and pushed it down her arms.

She snapped face forward again when he made her stop in the vanity and pulled down her panties in a move that took anexcruciatingly long time. From her peripheral vision, she could see him looking at her through the mirror. He leaned in and kissed her left ass cheek, then the right. There was the slightest hint of stubble on his face, and he rubbed his jaw against her skin. It tickled and burned at the same time, and she had to hold in a soft moan.

“What? Did you say something?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

A smart reply was on the tip of her tongue until his ran up the crease of her ass, not delving deep, just following the sensitive curve. Whatever she’d been going to say was forgotten when he stood again and watched a reflection of himself slap her ass, testing, squeezing the thickness with his full palm. Another slap, and she shook. His cock was thickened, the veins standing out along the ridge. That surreal rush overcame her when

Vanessa couldn’t help it. She didn’t hide that she was watching in the mirror as he took himself in hand and rubbed the fattened head up the crease next, lightly, enough to leave a warm, sticky wetness trail on her flesh.

Santino swallowed hard, then propelled her forward again into the bathroom with the muted brown and beige tile shot with threads of gold. The air was cool, and she shivered, watching him as he turned on the shower faucet. Smirking, he let her have a good look, knowing goddamn well how turned on she was. She didn’t want to miss a single movement, the way the muscles of his broad back and his arms rolled under the tanned skin, the flexing of his tight ass and the strong, corded thighs. He was pure art, woven into beautiful flesh, strong bone, and skin painted over with a satin brush.

Vanessa had to wonder if they’d been together this whole time, would she have gotten used to the vision of his masculine beauty by now. She didn’t think so. A hundred years with Santino and she’d never get used to it, even when he was older, and thewear and tear of life showed on his face and this frame. He’d be beautiful because he simply was.

Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to see that, see him grow and change throughout his life. She wanted to bear witness to all the wonderful things he’d do and become while still being that intrinsically good person he was inside. Flaws and all.

Did he feel the same way about her? The look in his eyes when he turned and stepped aside to usher her into the curving shower stall told her everything she needed to know. And it made her hot and confused and giddy all at once because she didn’t want him toseeher, all the way to the deepest parts of her, but at the same time, that’s all she wanted. Santino seeing her, loving her, embracing her.

Let him in.

No, keep him out.

Overtaken by the internal struggle, Vanessa smiled, and gestured to the rainforest style showerhead angled straight down.

“Obviously, Virgil doesn’t believe certain melanated guests might not want to get their hair wet. I think that’s discrimination. I’mma sue him. I should maybe get out,” she joked, not joking.

“I like your hair curly.” Santino raised a teasing eyebrow. “I like the straight hair too, but I miss you like that.”

He closed in while she retreated from the outrageous heat of his body that was steamier than the water flowing down half her body. His gaze was on her lips, and he was so close the head of his cock pushed gently against her belly. Santino hissed softly at the contact.

“Maybe I should—”

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