Page 109 of Sins of the Son

“Although we now cheat a bit and use thermometers, in ancient times, they used to use the candles to measure the temperature of the wine as well.”

I frowned. “Wait, what?”

“Fermentation causes heat. If the wine is fermenting too quickly, the temperature rises and the candles will melt faster, meaning the wine needs to be cooled. If the candles melt too slowly, the wine isn’t generating heat, which means it’s not fermenting enough. Either can impact the flavor and quality of the wine.”

He walked over to the wall and selected a long wooden rod with a round base. “Are you ready to punch the wine?”

I put my hands on my hips. “Punch the wine? I’ll give you the whole candles measuring the temperature of the wine thing, because that sounded pseudo-scientific, but now you’re just making shit up.”

He gestured with his head as he walked toward one of the vast vats of wine. It looked like an enormous whiskey barrel with its top cut off. I had to tilt my head back since it was so much taller than me.

Cesare ascended a small set of wooden stairs secured to the side of the vat. He swung the wooden tool over the vat and pressed down. “This is called a plunger. As the wine ferments, the crushed grape skins float to the top, creating a cap. Since the skins are essential to the fermentation process, we need to punch those skins down to make sure they are evenly dispersed throughout the juice.”

I watched in awe as he methodically pressed the grape skins down.

Dressed in laborer attire of dark pants, work boots, and a coarse, ivory tunic with the sleeves pulled up, showing off his muscular forearms, he could have easily passed for a turn-of-the-century winemaker.

An incredibly sexy, turn-of-the-century winemaker.

There was just something super-hot about a man who knew how to work with his hands. He was handsome as hell in a suit, but damn, it was nothing compared to him in a pair of worn jeans and work boots.

My gaze ran over his form as my tongue skimmed my lower lip.

“Keep looking at me like that, babygirl, and I’m going to fuck you standing right up against one of these rock walls,” growled Cesare.

I blinked, not realizing he had caught me staring at him. “I was just… studying your form, so I knew what to do when it was my turn.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure you were.”

I cleared my throat. “My turn.”

He climbed down and led me to the next vat.

We climbed the stairs and stood together on the landing, with him behind me.

His breath tickled my ear, sending a delicious shiver of awareness between my legs, when he said, “First, you need to hold the plunger firmly.”

I wiggled my ass against his crotch before replying, “So you need me to grasp the long, hard wooden rod?”

“Behave,” he growled. As he pushed his hips forward, his already hard cock pressed against my lower back. “Now you gently push down the cap.” He kept his grip on the plunger as he demonstrated the motion.

I leaned forward, pushing my hips back seductively. “So I just press down nice and slow, using my body weight?”

He moved his hands to my waist, digging his fingers into my flesh as he growled in my ear, “Just wait until I get you back upstairs.”

I giggled as I continued to rhythmically push down on the grape skins, watching as the dark purple mass bobbed and weaved with the motion. There was something very soothing about the practice.

Cesare stood protectively over me as I continued the motion. “Brava ragazza.”

A rush of pride pooled in my stomach.

As we descended the stairs, preparing to move on to the next vat, a staff member I didn’t recognize entered the cave. “Cesare, Don Cavalieri is looking for you. There’s someone in the formal office he wants you to meet.”

The formal office was the one they used to greet clients and for tastings. It was far down the maze of hallways in a carved-out cave like the wine room.

Cesare turned to look at me. I waved him off. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

“Don’t do a punch down without me. You could lose your balance and fall into the vat.”

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