Much to my surprise, she says nothing and lets the conversation drift off to the next topic. Even though she’s cordial and polite for the rest of the meal, I can tell she’s holding something back, and I resolve to talk to her about it later.
My brothers and their wives leave shortly after we finish eating. We all have work early tomorrow morning, and married life has moved their bedtimes significantly earlier.
As I shut the door behind them, I turn to find Alessandra standing nervously in the entryway, her purse slung over her shoulder.
“I don’t want to keep you,” she says, taking a step toward the door.
“Do you have to leave so soon?” I ask, stepping toward her. I can tell from the look on her face that she’s overwhelmed, and while I want her to stay, I don’t want to make her more uncomfortable.
“I just don’t know what we’re doing, Quinn,” she says on a sigh. She adjusts the purse strap on her shoulder and looks down at the floor. “I saw the way your brothers looked at you when I told them I was going to Italy. I may be young, but I’m not stupid. Maybe they’re right. Maybe this is all one huge mistake.”
“Alessandra…” I reach out to take her hand, but she pulls away.
“I don’t want to cause you any issues. I’m only here for a short time, and I…” She crosses her arms and leans away from me, her eyes suddenly dark and somber.
I step toward her, placing my hand on her cheek. “Stay, per favore,” I whisper, hoping that an Italian please will be more effective than an English one.
Alessandra smiles softly, turning her face in my hand to place a small kiss on my palm.
“Besides,” I say, pulling her into me and leading her to the kitchen, “I need help with all these dishes.”
We wash the dishes in comfortable silence. As much as I want to ask her what she thinks of my brothers and reassure her about our time together, I decide that giving her some time to relax will be helpful. Once the dishes are done, I pour us each another glass of wine and lead her to the living room.
We each take a seat on opposite ends of the couch, and after taking a sip of her wine, Alessandra looks at me expectantly.
“I’m sorry you were blindsided by the truth about our business,” I say, ready to be more honest with her than ever. “It’s not that I didn’t want you to know, it’s just. . . difficult to explain sometimes.”
Alessandra nods and raises her eyebrows, prompting me to continue.
“As Cooper said, it’s a high-end thing. Like when a CEO needs a date for a charity gala. A lot of these wealthy, powerful men are too busy to actually date, so we provide competent, attractive women for them to have on their arm. For a hefty fee, of course. We take excellent care of our girls, and make sure nothing bad happens to them.”
Alessandra nods again, more slowly this time, clearly thinking through what I just told her. “I’m fine with all that,” she says. “I mean, no judgment here. It’s just. . . you don’t sleep with the women, do you?” She looks me in the eye then, her gaze wide and searching.
“No, never.”
“How did you three get into this business? It seems like a very specific field to be working in.”
I nod, sipping my wine while deciding what exactly to tell her. When I look over at her, I can see she isn’t looking for a reason to judge or reprimand me. She wants to understand, that’s all. I know in that very moment that this woman deserves to know the truth, so with a small sigh, I begin to explain my family history.
“Our father wasn’t really around growing up, and it was hard for our mother with three boys. Eventually, she had to turn to less mainstream forms of employment. When things got bad, to put food on the table, she turned to prostitution. My brothers and I spent so many years protecting her and making sure that no one harmed her, that when she died so young. . . we sort of fell into this business. We knew that for some women, this was the only option, and if we weren’t there to protect them, someone else would take advantage. So, we started Forbidden Desires. Growing up, we never thought our experiences with our mother would translate into a future business, but here we are, all these years later.”
I shake my head as I finish my explanation, placing my hands in my lap. It isn’t as painful to share as it once might have been, but I’m always a little nervous opening up to people.
Alessandra scoots next to me on the couch, taking my large hand in her small one and bringing it to her lips. She places a gentle kiss on the back of it, murmuring, “Thank you for opening up like that. I know how difficult that must have been because I imagine others may judge you for the services that you offer. Please know that I’m not that kind of person. Thank you for dinner. I had no idea you were such a good cook.”
We both chuckle, and I pull her closer, staring into her eyes before bringing my lips to hers in a gentle kiss. She responds by parting her lips and slipping her tongue into my mouth, as she wraps her arms around me. Our breathing grows heavier and heavier, until Alessandra swings her leg around to straddle me on the couch, grinding her body into mine. And, fuck, it feels good.
My hands wander over her back and down to her perfect ass, running over it softly before giving both cheeks a firm squeeze. Alessandra responds by slipping her hands under my sweater, pressing her palms softly into my chest before running them down to my belt, which she slowly begins to unbuckle. As her hands unfasten my pants, she moves her mouth to my neck, nibbling softly upward until her lips brush against my earlobe, at which point she whispers, “I really hope you’re going to take me to a nice restaurant soon.”
As the words leave her mouth, she slips her hand inside my jeans to feel my throbbing cock through my briefs. I groan at her touch but shift my hips away from her, remembering what I told her about our first time.
“Soon.” I groan, nuzzling into her neck and delighting in the soft moans each kiss draws out of her. “How about Thursday night?”
Alessandra pulls back for a moment, her hand still reaching for my erection, and asks, “Our lesson?”
“Instead of our regular lesson,” I whisper, moving to nibble around her collarbone, “we could go to dinner. There’s another great Italian restaurant I know. We’ll go there to talk and to eat. . . it could be a good way to really immerse ourselves in the culture.”
“As long as you let me order,” she says, taking my face in both her hands and looking excitedly in my eyes. “You’re an excellent cook, but I’m worried that your Italian will have us pairing red wine and fish.”
“As my tutor, I believe that would be your fault,” I say with a laugh.
“I can’t help it if Sal let you develop bad habits.”
“Sal might have let me get away with a few things, but he certainly never let me do this.”
In one smooth motion, I flip Alessandra over onto her back lengthwise on the couch. She giggles, and her giggles quickly turn into moans as I move my mouth over her neck and use my fingers to elicit pleasure-filled sighs from her.
Even if tonight won’t be our first time, I’m determined to make the most of my time with Alessandra before she gets on a plane and flies out of my life forever.