CHAPTER 182: CHAPTER 182 TOO FAST

*LORENZO*

It was my song.

The song I finished after I met her.

She knows it. By heart. And she plays it a damned sight better than I do.

I started this song when I really wanted to be a performer.

But my parents, especially my dad refused.

They wanted me to take over the family’s business whether I like it or not.

The grief of the life I truly wanted hit me like a tidal wave, crashing over me.

Drowning me. A knot formed in my throat, and I tried to contain my emotion, but it expanded, constricting my ability to breathe.

I watch her, spellbound but aching as the music punctures my heart and touches the yawning void the life I wanted. Her eyes are closed. She’s concentrating and losing herself in the sad, solemn melody.

I’ve tried to ignore my pain. But it’s there.

It’s been there since I realized I couldn’t fight for what I truly wanted.

Tears burn behind my eyes as I lean against the wall, trying to fight my anguish. I cover my face with my hands.

I hear her gasp, and she stops. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

I shake my head, unable to speak or look at her. Hearing the scrape of the stool, I know that she’s stepped away from the piano. Then I feel her near me, and she touches my arm. It’s a compassionate gesture. And it’s my undoing.

“That reminded me of when I badly wanted to be a performer.” I squeeze the words past the lump in my throat.

“Why couldn’t you?”

“It was against my parents’ wishes.”

“I’m sorry.” She sounds crestfallen, and she wraps her arms around me, surprising me, and whispers, “I am so sorry.”

I bury my face in her hair and inhale her soothing scent. And I cannot stop the tears sliding down my face.

Shit.

She’s unmanned me.

No matter how lost I felt doing what my parents wanted, I never broke down. Yet here. Now. With her I let go. And I sob in her arms.

*********

Danica’s heart rate accelerates as she panics. Confused, she holds him, her mind in a whirl.

What has she done?

Lorenzo.

She thought he’d find it amusing that she knew his piece.

But no, she’s reminded him of a painful time in his life. Her remorse is swift and merciless and flutters staccato in her belly.

How could she have been so insensitive? He tightens his hold on her as he weeps, making no sound.

She draws him closer and strokes his back.

She swallows the burning sensation in her throat. Lorenzo is vulnerable and sad, and she wants nothing but to make him smile again. He has done so much for her. She runs her hands up his shoulders and to the nape of his neck and, clasping his head, turns his face to hers. His gaze holds no expectations; all she sees in his luminous green eyes is his sorrow. Slowly she pulls his mouth to hers and kisses him.

************

*LORENZO*

I groan when her lips brush mine. Her kiss is timid but so unexpected and oh, so sweet. I screw my eyes shut as I fight the outpouring of my pain.

“Danica.” Her name is a blessing. My hands cradle her head, my fingers threading through her soft, silky hair as I accept her hesitant, unschooled kiss. She kisses me once, twice, three times.

“I’ve got you,” she whispers.

And her words draw all the air from my lungs. I want to crush her to me and never let her go. I can’t remember the last person who consoled me in my hour of need.

Danica kisses my neck. My jaw. And my lips once more.

And I let her.

Gradually, my painful thoughts recedes, leaving only hunger in its wake. My hunger for her. I’ve been fighting my attraction to her since I saw her standing in my hallway holding that broom.

But she’s broken through all my defenses. She’s exposed my pain. My need. My lust. And I’m powerless to resist.

She moves to hold and stroke my face, which is still damp with tears, and her caress spirals like a tornado through my body. I’m lost. Lost to her compassion, her courage, and her innocence. I’m lost to her touch.

My body responds.

Fuck.

I want her. I want her now. I’ve wanted her forever.

I tilt her head back and move one hand to hold the nape of her neck, my fingers still in her hair. With the other hand, I circle her waist and pull her against the length of my body. I deepen the kiss, my lips more insistent.

Danica lets out a little gasp, and I seize the moment and tease her tongue with the tip of mine. She tastes as sweet as she looks, and she moans.

I light up like Piccadilly Circus.

She pushes at my chest, suddenly breaking our kiss, and stares up at me with a dazed, astonished look.

Shit. What’s this?

She’s breathless, flushed, and her pupils are dilated....

Man, she’s exquisite. I don’t want to let her go. “You okay?” A shy smile pulls at the corners of her mouth, and she nods. Does she mean yes or no?

“Yes?” I want clarification.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Have you ever been kissed?”

“Only by you.”

I don’t know what to say to this.

“Again,” she beseeches me, and I need no further prompting. My pain is a distant memory. I’m firmly in the now with this beautiful, innocent young woman. My fingers tighten in her hair, and I ease her head back so that her mouth is once more raised to mine. I kiss her again, tempting her lips apart with my tongue, and this time I’m met with the tip of hers.

I growl deep in my throat, my arousal complete, straining against black denim.

Her hands slide up my biceps, and she clings to me as our tongues stroke and tease and taste each other. Over and over.

I could kiss her all day.

Every day.

I slide my hand down her back to her perfect behind.

Oh. God.

Placing my palm on her backside, I push her against my erection.

She gasps and frees her lips from our kiss but doesn’t let me go. She’s breathing hard, eyes the color of night, wide and shocked.

Fuck.

I hold her startled gaze and, summoning every ounce of my self-control, I ask, “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” she says quickly.

Thank fuck.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

“This?” I ask, and press my hips against her.

She gasps.

“Yes, beautiful. I want you.”

Her lips part as she inhales.

“I want to touch you. Everywhere,” I whisper. “With my hands. With my fingers. With my lips. And with my tongue.”

Her eyes darken.

“And I want you to touch me,” I add in a husky tone.

Her mouth forms a perfect, soundless O. But her gaze shifts from my eyes to my mouth to my chest and back to my eyes.

“Too fast?” I ask.