biceps. The fabric is stretched so taut over his massive pecs; I can see through his shirt that the tattoos on his arm continue onto his chest.
“I love how your ass looks in this.” He steps in front of me and cups my ass with both hands, taking my breath away.
Before I can protest, his lips crash down against mine, and he swallows my words with a flick of his tongue across my bottom lip. His knee presses between my legs, and I feel his thigh rub against the thin layers of fabric separating my pussy from his skin.
He pulls away, staring into my eyes, and I’m completely speechless as I try to catch my breath. He grabs my hand, pulls me away from the building and all I can manage is to follow him. He leads me into an alley past three parked motorcycles and out onto 86th Street.
The sidewalk is thick with tourists and locals alike. A bike messenger gives us a curious glance as we emerge from the alley, but quickly looks away once he sees my scowl. Gio takes my hand, leading me across the street between two cabs stuck in traffic and we blend into the crowd on the opposite side.
“How did you know I was being followed?” I can barely keep up with his pace.
He presses his way past a group taking selfies in front of an olive oil bar. They look like they want to say something, but they hold their tongues when they get a better look at Gio. “I was watching you.”
“Is that your thing?” I try to put humor in my voice, but I’m half-serious. I don’t know anything about him. He could be an obsessive stalker for all I know. My heart starts beating faster as I think about how little I actually know about him. Why am I risking everything for a guy I barely know?
We turn a corner onto a slightly quieter street. Gio finally slows down the pace until we come to a stop outside a small Italian restaurant. The hand-painted sign hanging from its green awning reads: Marcello’s. He takes both of my hands in his and locks eyes with me. “I knew someone would be following you, and that you’d want to be alone.”
My stomach flutters. He’s right about both. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy to get out of Hush in this outfit without someone noticing.
I stare into his gray eyes, trying to read him. Who is this guy? All I know about him is that he’s the sort of guy who’s willing to fuck a woman he barely knows in a parking lot. And he’s hot enough to make it seem like a good idea. I break eye contact and look down at the ground, worried I’m making all the wrong decisions.
He lifts my chin with the tip of his finger and brushes his thumb against my cheek. His touch feels like fire on my skin. “I know what you’re thinking, and you don’t have to worry. This isn’t a mistake.”
I open my mouth to reply, and he steals my words again with a light kiss. “Let's go inside.”
The restaurant is a quaint little place with eight tables and a small bar in the front. There’s an adorable elderly couple at one of the tables. Every wall is covered from hip height to the ceiling with racks of wine. We head toward a booth in the far corner. He waits for me to sit before sliding in from the other side.
“Gio? Is that you?” A middle-aged cook appears from the kitchen door, wiping his hands with a towel. He throws the towel over his shoulder and nods graciously to me. “And you have company. Beautiful company, if I may be so bold.”
Suddenly feeling shy, I smile and mumble a thank you.
The cook suddenly gets a serious look on his face, and lowers himself so he can speak quietly to Gio. “My heart goes out to you, Gio. If I’d known where you were, I’d have written you.”
Darkness passes over Gio’s eyes like a storm cloud before quickly receding. “Don’t worry about it, Marcello. I know your heart’s always in the right place.”
“Good, good.” He looks between the two of us. Hopefully I don’t look as curious as I feel. What’s he consoling Gio about?
He places a menu in front of each