A Little Holiday Temptation Page 10

  Here in this showroom, he was the center of attention. She saw the other patrons gawking at him, probably wondering what he was saying to her right now, his ex-girlfriend as some of them were undoubtedly well aware.

  Suddenly, all of the hurt and anger that she had felt upon seeing him here dissipated. She no longer felt irritated by his presence.

  She actually smiled at him and said, “Thank you, Jack, that’s very sweet of you. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we really should circulate.”

  She and Erik left him standing there. Of course he wasn’t alone for long. His entourage again formed a protective circle around him and when he began talking, hung on his every word.

  Erik pulled her close and kissed her cheek. “You’re a class act.”

  Ana was about to say something to Erik when she noticed his parents coming through the door followed by Belana and Nick. “Our family’s here,” she said, and they made a beeline over to them.

  Ana enjoyed herself from that moment on. Damon sold all of her paintings except the one of Drusilla in the garden, which was not for sale at any price.

  He also told her that before Jack Russo had left the gallery he had offered a substantial amount for her self-portrait. Damon had claimed someone else had already purchased it. From the miffed expression on the handsome actor’s face, Damon related, he had not believed him for a moment. That was when he had stormed out, followed by his lackeys.

  Later, Erik took her home. Their footsteps made clicking sounds on the hardwood floor as they made their way back to the bedroom. Clothes were removed in the dark with only the streetlights lending little illumination through the slats in the blinds.

  Erik pulled her warm body into his strong arms. Their kisses were tender, lingering and so intoxicating. She fell back onto the bed, pulling him on top of her. Her legs wrapped themselves around him as she guided him inside of her. Urgently the passion rose as his thrusts deepened, touching her very core. A sob tore from her throat as she reached the crescendo, and Erik followed seconds later. They lay like that for a few minutes, his nose buried in the side of her neck. They trembled in ecstasy and soon found a more comfortable position but were not willing to let go too soon.

  * * *

  The next day Damon phoned her with good news. “I’ve gotten five requests from people who want you to paint them.”

  Ana was standing in the kitchen, stirring soft-scrambled eggs in a skillet. She reached over and turned off the flame under the skillet before replying, “You mean commissions?” She had heard of them but never considered that someone would want to hire her to paint them even though she knew that sort of thing came with the territory once word got around that you were talented.

  “Who wants me to paint them?” she asked excitedly as she one-handedly slid the scrambled eggs onto a plate. Erik was in the shower. She had gotten up about an hour earlier and was already showered and dressed. It was a Sunday morning and they didn’t have any commitments. They were planning on taking a leisurely walk around the city if it didn’t snow today, perhaps do a little window shopping. December in New York was beautiful. And the closer to Christmas the more festive the displays in store windows became.

  Damon named three people in the performing arts community in the city: two actors and a well-known soprano with the Metropolitan Opera, and the addition of two politicians.

  “I don’t know,” Ana said. “I’ve never even thought of doing something like that. I always choose my subjects. I don’t even know if painting someone at their request would inspire me. It’s not like a quick sketch that you can do in a matter of minutes. Painting a portrait takes days of effort and if I’m not feeling it I don’t know if I can produce a decent portrait.”

  “Artists,” Damon said. “The problem with artists today is none are starving anymore. When artists were starving they took commissions hand over fist because wanting to know where your next meal was coming from was inspiring. Think about it, darling. The more you earn, the more you can donate to the needy. Besides, I look at taking commissions as a way to build your reputation in the art community. If you later find you don’t like doing it, you can always stop.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Ana agreed. “I’ve got to go. Thank you, Damon, for everything. Last night wasn’t as frightening as I thought it would be.”

  Damon laughed. “I told you all you had to do was show up and be yourself. Your work would speak for itself.”

  Erik strode into the kitchen barefooted wearing jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. He came straight to Ana and began kissing her. She held the phone away from them but she was certain Damon could probably hear what was going on. Erik sounded like a starving man, moaning like crazy, eliciting the same response from her with his intensity. She managed to break off the kiss long enough to say into the receiver, “Gotta go!” She heard Damon laughing uproariously before she put the phone down on the counter and resumed kissing Erik.

  “Good morning,” said Erik, after he’d rendered her nearly breathless. His smile was electric. Ana loved seeing him like this: ready to take on the day, his attitude confident and infectious.

  “Good morning,” she said, her smile as wide as his. “How did you sleep?”

  “Like the dead but, I swear, I could sense when you got out of bed.”

  Erik hadn’t let go of her yet. And he obviously was not finished kissing her as his warm lips continued to leave a trail of kisses along the side of her neck. Ana was beginning to get the message. But the little Catholic girl in her was leery of where this might be headed, making love in the kitchen. She was enjoying their love life but there were still certain taboos she had no desire to break and making love on the kitchen counter or the kitchen table was one of them. Growing up she would have been traumatized if she had walked into the kitchen and found her parents making love on the table where they all sat down and had their meals.

  She laughed nervously and turned out of his embrace. “Come on, let’s eat. I made scrambled eggs and there’s bread for toast, orange juice and, of course, coffee. I need to go shopping, the cupboard’s nearly bare.” Sometimes she talked too much when she was uneasy.

  Picking up on her mood, Erik asked, “Is something the matter?”

  She decided to tell him the truth. “I don’t want to get overheated in the kitchen.”

  He laughed and reached down to smooth her brow the way he did when he’s about to kiss her. Ana waited, then just as he was lowering his head to kiss her she twisted out of his embrace and Erik, off balance, stumbled and righted himself by pushing against the granite counter. By the time he turned around to face her, Ana was standing three feet away with her arms folded, giving him a stern look. “Don’t play with me, Erik Whitaker. I told you—not in the kitchen.”

  With a determined expression, Erik went and picked her up and began walking in the direction of the bedroom. “All right, then, the bedroom it is.”

  “I’m hungry!” Ana protested, laughter evident in her tone.

  “I’ll take you out for breakfast afterward,” Erik promised.

  “We just got out of bed,” she cried. “Aren’t you ever satisfied?”

  “Not when it comes to you,” he said, pushing the bedroom door open.

  They were both laughing by the time he put her down. “Look at you,” she said as she unbuttoned his shirt, “showered and dressed and now you’re going to get all funky again.”

  “Yes,” he breathed lustily, apparently looking forward to being dirtied up by her and vice versa. That mischievous glint in his eye told her she was right.

  “Oh, I know what this is,” she said as he pulled her sweater over her head and turned her around so that he could unfasten her bra. “I’m a fast learner. I might not know much about men and sex, but I do know you get horny in the mornings. I’ve noticed…things…but was too shy to talk about them with you.”


  Erik took her hand and put it on his hard member. “You mean this thing? You’ve noticed this thing in the mornings?”

  Ana blushed but didn’t try to remove her hand. “You’re a corrupting influence,” she lightly accused him. “If I stay with you much longer I’m going to know everything there is to know about pleasing a man.”

  “Well, this man, anyway,” Erik said and bent to take one of her nipples, which he’d recently liberated from her bra into his mouth. Ana moaned and her bones seemed to turn to jelly. She fell backward onto the bed, which she hadn’t yet had the chance to make this morning, and her fiancé made short work of removing her jeans and panties. This done, he gently spread her legs and touched her sex with the palm of his hand and moved it in small circles, enjoying the warmth and the feel of it. Her clitoris became aroused and as soon as he felt the wetness on his palm he used his index finger to further stimulate it while Ana writhed beneath him.

  “Don’t be afraid to express your sexual desires to me, Ana,” he softly said as he continued his efforts. “You’re safe with me. Let go of your inhibitions.”

  Ana sighed with pleasure as she tried to construct sentences in her head, sentences that he would understand. She liked sex as well as any other woman but the full enjoyment of sex, the letting go of her inhibitions seemed contrary to her Catholic upbringing. She remembered going to mass with her Grandma Renata and always being admonished to stay pure until marriage. That ship had definitely sailed. In these modern times women didn’t save themselves for marriage as often as they used to. At least that’s the general consensus she’d gotten from talking to other women of her generation. But if you were smart, you didn’t sleep around, either. You tried to choose wisely. She hadn’t chosen wisely until now.

  She relaxed. Erik was right, she was safe with him. She could be herself and stop holding back, because that’s what she had been doing. She looked him in the eyes, and said, “Aren’t you forgetting something? I’m naked, splayed on the bed for your pleasure but you still have your pants on.”

  Erik rose and rectified the situation with rapidity. He stood before her without any clothes on. She got up and kissed him all the while backing him toward the bed. When he was in position, she placed her palm in the middle of his muscular chest and pushed him onto the bed. Climbing on top, she cooed, “Let me drive awhile.”

  Erik chuckled, remembering how much she liked to drive. It could prove interesting to see what she considered driving in the bedroom, little innocent girl that she was.

  As he lay flat on his back Ana bent and licked him down the middle of his chest from his breastbone to his naval. His eyes never left her. Perhaps that was his fatal mistake. He would try later to recall every move Ana made.

  “Mmm, you taste good,” she said, her eyes looking directly into his. She held his attention like a cobra holds a snake charmer’s. Then she straddled him and began rubbing her breasts until her nipples hardened. This by itself was an erotic feast for Erik since he was a breast man and hers were magnificent. But when she bent and flicked her tongue out and licked her own nipples, first the right then the left, his member jumped of its own accord.

  That was only the beginning. After she had enticed him with a demonstration of her flexibility, she scooted backward and since he was fully engorged now his penis stood straight up and she took what was offered. Her mouth below was almost his undoing. She made him beg her to stop because he was afraid if she didn’t he’d come and he didn’t want this lovemaking session to end without Ana being satisfied. He always made sure of that.

  She smiled coyly at him as she got up to get a condom. Returning to him she rolled it onto him and straddled him. She was so wet by this time that when her sex touched the tip of his penis all he wanted to do was slide inside and experience the ultimate in pleasure. But she worked her vaginal muscles so that she was the one controlling how far he could enter her. She allowed him entrance inch by inch, squeezing him and causing ripples of anticipatory sexual enjoyment to fan out from his member to the rest of his body. God help him, the girl was curling his toes. Where the hell had she learned that? Then, just as he had gained a little control and felt confident that he wouldn’t embarrass himself by coming too soon, she pushed hard and impaled herself on him.

  She cried out because he could tell he’d hit her sweet spot. He yelled because she’d caught him off guard and there was no turning back now. He came and he felt as if the tip of the condom wouldn’t be able to hold it all. That’s how good the release had felt.

  She lay on top of him, her head on his chest. He felt her pulsating vaginal walls as she came down from the climax. She felt him throb inside of her. Their eyes met. “Where did you learn that?” he asked curiously.

  “The Kama Sutra,” she told him smiling. “I like to read, remember?”

  Chapter 9

  A few days before Christmas Ana phoned her parents to catch up. She had already told them she was staying in the States for Christmas, and they had expressed disappointment but said they understood she wanted to spend time with Erik. They were not the kind of parents who put added pressure on their children in the form of guilt. For that she was grateful.

  “Is Dad preparing dinner this year, or will you go to one of my aunts’ houses?” she asked her mother.

  “Dominic and Elle invited us to Lake Como, so we’ll be going there,” Natalie told her. “Elle’s going to prepare a traditional soul food meal for us. I’m supposed to get in the kitchen with her. We’ll see how that works out. And I don’t think your father can do without his panettone at Christmastime. He’ll be baking at least a couple of loaves.”

  “Can’t say that I blame him,” Ana said with a smile. The traditional sweet loaf that originated in Milan was a family staple. Cupola-shaped and made with raisins, candied orange, citron and lemon zest, it was wrapped with care and put under the Christmas tree and enjoyed later in the evening with coffee or sweet wine.

  “You sound kind of wistful,” Natalie told her. “Is everything all right between you and Erik?”

  Ana sighed happily. “Mom, I’m so in love with that man it feels unreal. I’m afraid I’m going to wake up one morning and find out it was all a dream.”

  Natalie laughed softly. “Baby, you’re in the giddy stage of your relationship. Of course it feels dreamlike. You’re so happy you think you might explode. He can do no wrong, you can do no wrong. And the sex…well the sex blows your mind. I’ve been there.”

  Ana was not embarrassed to discuss sex with her mother. It was her father with whom she never broached the subject.

  “You’re right,” she confirmed. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

  “How could you?” asked Natalie reasonably. “You’ve never been in love before. Not really.” She paused. “Yes, it’s Ana, sweetheart.”

  Her father, Carlo, must have entered the room.

  He came on the line. “Buon Natale!” he exclaimed in his deep, Italian-accented voice. “In case I don’t get to speak with you on Christmas.”

  “Daddy, I don’t care where I am in the world, I will find a way to speak with you on Christmas Day,” Ana assured him. A tear rolled down her cheek, her father was so dear to her. She was the baby of the family and he had always made sure that she knew she was special and could depend on her old man, as he referred to himself, for anything.

  She imagined his sweet face now: tanned skin, a full head of wavy dark brown hair with pieces of gray throughout, that Roman nose and a chin with a cleft in it. No wonder her mother had fallen in love with him on first sight.

  She sniffed. “I’m coming home next Christmas, promise!”

  Carlo laughed shortly. “Now, none of that or Babbo Natale will not visit you this Christmas. Stay cheerful, darling. We’ll see you soon.”

  She smiled. She’d loved his Babbo Natale—Father Christmas—stories when she was a
little girl. Point in fact: she still loved them.

  “Okay,” she said. He invariably ended their conversations with “We’ll see you soon.” As if she had only a short length of time to wait before she saw them again even though she knew that it would probably be months.

  “Yes, see you soon, Dad,” Ana said.

  After she’d hung up the phone she got up from the couch where she’d been sitting in the living room and walked to the big picture window, which looked down on the busy street in front of her building. Pedestrians hurried to their destinations carrying shopping bags. It was dusk and lights were going on in windows of neighboring apartments. Christmas decorations predominated. She had framed her windows with tiny twinkling white lights and in the center of it was the huge fir tree strung with colorful lights.

  She and Erik had decorated trees at her place and his. She was glad he enjoyed the custom as much as she did. She couldn’t imagine Christmas without a tree.

  Shrugging her shoulders as if she could shake off this melancholy feeling, she turned away from the window and walked to the kitchen where she got herself a bottle of water and thirstily drank half of it standing in front of the refrigerator. She had no reason to feel sad, yet the feeling persisted. Surely it wasn’t because she wasn’t going home for Christmas. She was an adult now and adults grew up, moved away from home, met someone and got married. From then on your first priority was your mate. Yes, you spent time with your extended family, but if you couldn’t make it home for the holidays you didn’t beat yourself up about it.

  This is the first time, she reminded herself that was why she wasn’t handling it so well.

  Tomorrow she and Erik were flying to Aspen. They would spend December 23 through December 26 there. Then they would toast in the New Year here in New York with his family who would be coming to his penthouse for the annual Whitaker New Year’s Eve party, an end of the year blowout where the family and employees of Whitaker Enterprises mingled. She had looked forward to the party every year. This year would be different because she wouldn’t be coming as a guest, but as Erik’s fiancée. She was even planning it this year, she had hired the caterer and the entertainment for the evening. They were going to dance the night away to the sounds of the best blues band in New York City. Then just before midnight they were going to tune in to the yearly broadcast of the ball dropping in Times Square on the big-screen TV.