Educating Gina Page 7

  He swallowed, but his mouth got so dry it was almost painful. “Definitely not a good idea.”

  “You were right. I have not been with a man.” Embarrassment bloomed in her cheeks and her gaze skittered away.

  He brought it back to his, and he smiled. “That is nothing to be ashamed of.”

  The way his heart raced and blood rushed to his groin was a damn good reason for him to be ashamed, however the knowledge that she was a virgin and wanted him to be the one made his ego swell as much as his cock.

  “I know,” she said, shrugging, her hand still tight around his. “And I am not asking to, you know, do everything. But I am asking you to do one thing for me….”

  So enthralled with the color of her eyes in the sunlight, he hadn’t noticed her guiding his hand until his palm met with a mound of soft yet firm flesh. He stared down at his hand sandwiched between her smaller one and her abundant breast.

  She moaned softly, and he looked at her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips lifting in a slight sensuous curve. Tentatively flexing his fingers, he explored the swells and dip, until he couldn’t stand it, and then gently pinched her nipple between his thumb and finger.

  Whimpering, she thrust herself against his hand. “It feels good,” she whispered, and then murmured something in Italian. Her lids drifted open and she looked at him with dazed eyes. “Touch me some more.”

  He moved his hand to her other breast, just for a moment. Just to appease her curiosity. God, he wanted to put his mouth on her. He wanted her to find his thickening arousal. But neither could happen.

  He squeezed gently, liking the way she filled his palm. He found her nipple, already big and ripe, and he fought the urge to lower his mouth. Instead, he touched his lips to hers, lightly, knowing this was it. He had to stop. Now.

  “You throw any more sand at me and I’m telling Mom.”

  The kids’ voices came from just around the corner. Mike and Gina sprang apart.

  “You’re such a baby. Go ahead and tell her.” The second voice seemed to be drifting farther away.

  Gina gathered the towel around her, clutching it at her breasts, a blush climbing her neck.

  “No one saw anything,” he whispered. “Here.” He held up her shirt. “I’ll block you.”

  She quickly took the shirt and turned around. But not before he saw the humiliation in her eyes. They were in a public place. What did she expect?

  That wasn’t fair. He couldn’t blame her for his guilt.

  He held up the towel when she let it go and waited for her to pull on her shirt. Had he been too busy beating up on himself to notice if she’d put on her bra?

  She turned around and took the towel from his hands.

  Oh, boy. She definitely was not wearing a bra.

  “We’ll find a rest room,” he said, and dragged his gaze away.

  “What for?”

  “So you can finish dressing.” Dammit, he’d told himself not to look there again. He wondered if it was possible to die of a prolonged hard-on.

  She glanced down at her chest. Her nipples poked at the light cotton T-shirt. “Oh.” She hugged the folded beach towel to her chest.

  He took a deep breath. His body hadn’t quite settled down yet. He might need the other towel. “Do you even have a swimsuit top?”

  She shook her head.

  “I guess we head for the Ferris wheel, then.”

  Her troubled frown began to clear. “And the roller coaster?”

  He groaned. “And the roller coaster.”

  “Mike?” She fell into step beside him. “At the top of the Ferris wheel it will be private. Maybe we can kiss again.”

  Mike’s steps faltered. The roller coaster sounded better already.

  GINA TOOK EXTRA TIME to shower. She knew her uncle had late dinner plans, and she hoped he would leave the apartment before Mike picked her up. Zio Antonio would definitely not approve of the dress she planned to wear tonight.

  Mike would, though.

  She smiled at her reflection in the mirror as she pulled a comb through her wet hair.

  He would say she should not wear something so short or tight or low-cut. But then he would look at her the way he had today when she had bared her breasts to him. She got hot and tingly thinking about the way his nostrils had flared and how he had sucked on her mouth so hard it was as if he wanted to swallow her whole.

  The way he had cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples had been both scary and exciting, and if she did not stop replaying the afternoon in her head, she was afraid she would have to take a shower again.

  She blow-dried her hair and then took extra care with her makeup. Tonight they were going dancing, and she wanted to look perfect. If she did, maybe he would kiss her again. Maybe he would even kiss her breasts.

  The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Would he suck her nipples hard or lick them gently?

  To her amazement she had unconsciously slipped her hand inside her robe and touched her breast. Her nipple stuck way out and she lightly pinched it the way he had. She closed her eyes, imagining it was his hand on her, making her grow warm and shivery.

  Excitement erupted in her belly and she withdrew her hand, frightened, embarrassed by her thoughts and the reaction of her body. The nuns would go crazy if they saw the desire growing in her heart. If they knew how much she craved Mike’s mouth.

  It was a strange feeling, nothing at all like having a fantasy about Brad Pitt or Ben Affleck while she lay in bed at night. Mike was real flesh and blood, yet he had touched her in a place no man ever had before.

  And she had let him. She had wanted him to. And she wanted him to do it again.

  She would surely go to hell for all this wantonness. So why did it not seem wrong? Not with Michael, anyway. He did not push or coax, and if at any time she told him to stop, she had no doubt he would. He tried very hard to be a gentleman. But then he would get that helpless look on his face and give in to her.

  She wrapped her robe more tightly and hugged herself. But what she liked the most about him was that he thought she was smart, that she would be good for the company, that she was capable of being more than a hostess and making babies.

  The idea made her smile and she twirled around, imagining herself in a business suit, just like the women she watched from Zio Antonio’s window in the morning.

  A knock at the bathroom door sobered her.

  “Gina?”

  “Si, Zio Antonio.”

  “I’m leaving now. What time did you say Mike is picking you up?”

  She looked at her watch. “In half an hour.”

  “Okay, then. You have fun. Be home by midnight and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Midnight. Gina scowled. The night would be just beginning. Even Antonio did not get home until midnight, his breath heavy with too much wine. “Si, Zio Antonio.”

  She listened for his footfalls to fade and then the click of the front door. Hurriedly she finished the last of her makeup and then shimmied into the black dress she had been saving for a special occasion. It was snug and not easy to zip, even when she sucked her tummy in as hard as she could. No dinner for her tonight, that was for sure.

  After checking her nail polish for chips and giving her hair a good brushing, she sat on the edge of her bed and studied her only two pairs of suitable shoes. Wearing the right one was most important, according to the women on Sex and the City.

  She selected the pair of black stilettos, even though she had already worn them. Obviously she would have to talk to Mike about taking her shopping again.

  There were certain disadvantages to dressing in this new manner. Men looked at her as they never had before. She supposed that was what she had wanted at first. But mostly she had wanted to be like her friends, or the other young women who frequented the nightclubs in Milan. And not like Grandmother Scarpetti.

  She did like the way Mike looked at her, though. The way his eyes got a little glassy made her body temperature go up. He never made
her uncomfortable like other men had at times. Of course, he had instructions from her zio to take care of her.

  A heaviness settled in her chest. Was that why Mike paid attention to her? Because it was his duty? No, she was being silly. He liked her. How could he kiss her as he had if he did not like her?

  She sighed as she slipped her feet into the heels. She wished she had more experience with men. All she had for information was her friends’ gossip. Not that she knew whom to believe. Maria thought she knew everything about men, but Gina suspected some of Maria’s claims were fantasy.

  As Gina stood, her dress rode up her thighs and she had to tug and rearrange the clingy fabric until seams matched and nothing showed. She looked in the mirror and had second thoughts about wearing such a revealing dress. Then she imagined how Mike’s eyes would get glassy and his gaze would run down her body, and she started feeling warm and giddy.

  The doorbell rang and she quickly checked her teeth for lipstick before going to answer it. Even though she knew it was Mike, she peeked through the peephole as he had counseled her, but saw no one.

  She grinned and then called out, “Who is it?”

  “It’s Mike.”

  “How do I know it is you?”

  Silence, and then he said, “Come on, Gina.”

  “Step back so I can see you.”

  “Very funny.” He did as she asked. “Okay?”

  “Another step back.”

  “Gina, do you want to go out tonight or not?”

  She smiled when he moved back and she got a good view of him. He wore a silky, burgundy printed shirt and black jeans that were snug enough to start that funny flutter again. She flattened her palms against the door, pretending it was his chest, and watched the way he rubbed his jaw and then pushed his hand through his hair.

  Maybe they should stay in the apartment tonight. She could make him some pasta and then they could get comfortable and then maybe—

  “Gina?”

  “Yes, Michael?”

  “Are you going to let me in?”

  She unlocked the dead bolt, opened the door and kept a straight face. “Turn around so I know it is really you.”

  His gaze met hers and a thrilling intensity in his eyes made it impossible for her to look away. He moved forward and she automatically took a step back. One side of his mouth started to lift.

  Ah, so he was playing a game. When he moved toward her again, she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him close. “There is one way to tell if you are really Michael Mason.”

  His left eyebrow shot up, but he did not try to move away or pry her hands from his shirt. He stared down at her, expectant, watchful, while he reached behind and closed the door.

  She swallowed and resisted the impulse to release him and back away. “A kiss would reveal who you really are.”

  “Is that right?” His gaze lowered to her mouth.

  Her breath caught and she could only nod.

  “Like this?” He lightly brushed his lips across hers.

  It was maddeningly brief and chaste. “You are not Michael Mason.”

  He smiled, his mouth curving in that sexy way that made her want to squeeze her legs together, and she braced herself for a real kiss.

  He glanced at his watch. “Are you ready?”

  Disappointment dampened her mood. “I have to get my purse. Michael?” She had started to turn, and when she suddenly looked back, she saw him eyeing her dress. “We could stay in the apartment tonight if you want.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Why?”

  “My zio will not be home until late.” She shrugged. “I thought if you were tired from today, I could make you some pasta.” She shrugged again, a touch of uncertainty creeping into her thoughts. “Rub your shoulders.”

  Mike drew his head back and made a funny noise. “I think we’d better stick to the plan. We’ll just make it an early night.”

  “Early night?” The phrase was unfamiliar to her.

  “We won’t stay out late.”

  “But nothing happens until late.”

  He smiled. “Right. What time’s your curfew?”

  She smiled back. “Two-thirty.”

  7

  STAYING HOME might not have been such a bad idea. They stood in the doorway of the posh uptown club, and Mike gritted his teeth at the way two men openly ogled Gina. She didn’t seem to notice. She was too busy staring wide-eyed at the nude posters hanging on the walls. Admittedly they were tasteful works of art, but that didn’t make him any more comfortable. Antonio would not be happy with this place. Not one bit.

  How the hell had she come up with it? A bad feeling gnawed at him. She had a sizable list of nightspots she wanted to visit, half of which he’d never heard of. He was going to have to do some quick research.

  “Gina, what do you say we skip this place?” He watched a couple dancing in the corner of a small dance floor. They seemed to have their tongues down each other’s throats. If the woman had one less inch of fabric on, she’d be arrested.

  “Why?” Her fascinated gaze was still on one of the posters—the back of a nude man who was crouched in a position that left no doubt as to his sizable assets.

  He laughed. “You don’t think this place is a little odd?”

  “Is it?” She turned her eyes on him. “I have never been to anything like this before.”

  “No kidding.” A waitress smiled at him as she passed. She wore a thong and a shiny gold bikini top that barely covered her breasts.

  “Good evening.” A man in a tuxedo approached them. He was big, both tall and so broad his shoulders required a Wide Load sign. Probably a well-dressed bouncer. “Will you be staying downstairs for a while?”

  Mike frowned. “As opposed to…?”

  The man’s brows drew together as he looked from Mike to Gina. “Have you been here before?”

  They both shook their heads.

  He smiled. “Ah, we have the best club in Manhattan. I’m Darin, your host for the evening. There are two more floors.” He gestured toward a curved staircase. “Of course here we have the dance floor and in the corner is a light buffet, mostly cheese and crackers and fruit, that sort of thing, while you mingle.”

  Mike’s gaze went back to the couple who were pseudo-dancing. He didn’t think he and Gina would be doing too much mingling. Only two other couples sat in the corner talking and drinking.

  “It’s early. The usual crowd normally gets here around eleven,” Darin said as he followed Mike’s gaze. “And of course there are about a dozen people in the community room on the second floor right now. The third floor has only private rooms.”

  “For dinner?” Mike asked.

  Darin smiled. “If that’s what you wish.”

  Gina had wandered a few feet away and stared at the top of the staircase. “Can we go upstairs and look?”

  “Of course.” Darin’s overly interested gaze rested on Gina’s rear end.

  Mike stepped between them and put a possessive hand at her lower back. A private room for dinner sounded pretty good. Leaving sounded even better. Something about the place made him uneasy. He whispered in her ear, “I know a great restaurant around the corner.”

  “Oh, I am not hungry. Are you?”

  “I thought we were supposed to have dinner.”

  “Shall I leave you two to wander around on your own?” Darin asked, and took a diplomatic step back.

  “Yeah, thanks.” Mike waited until the guy left. “I don’t like this place. Let’s get out of here, huh?”

  “But I have not seen upstairs.”

  “Look, the guy said it doesn’t get jumping until later. Maybe we’ll come back.” Right.

  “But we are already here.” Gina took his arm and gave him one of those smiles that scrambled his common sense. “Come on, Michael, are you not curious?”

  “Not really.”

  “I am.” She tugged at him. “Come. Maybe the music is better upstairs and we can dance.”

  His gaze went b
ack to the couple on the dance floor. Granted, it had been a while since he’d tried any fancy footwork, but he didn’t call that dancing. The man’s hands molded themselves to his partner’s nude back, slowly following the curve of her nearly exposed buttocks. He cupped her against him while he did a slow grind with his hips.

  To his humiliation, Mike’s body reacted to the display and he quickly looked away. “Okay, we go upstairs for a look, but then we leave.”

  Gina gave him a tolerant smile and led the way. He followed closely, that bad feeling niggling at him again. No way would he let her talk him into staying. The city had a slew of clubs they could go to, ones he knew, ones that didn’t make him feel so damn uneasy.

  The top of the stairs gave way to a well-appointed landing with another nude on the wall, this one an oil painting, and two love seats upholstered in plush burgundy velour facing each other. Between them, on a dark wood coffee table, sat a large glass bowl of green and red grapes.

  A short hall led to two closed doors. Soft music came from behind one of them. Gina looked questioningly at him, and he shrugged. The door was slightly ajar, so he gave it a light push.

  Inside, the lighting was soft and reddish, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Gina hung on his arm and craned her neck to see into the unexpectedly cavernous room. It appeared to be sectioned off by two panels of red velvet drapery, which blocked their view.

  A woman’s laughter, mingled with the sounds of the Moody Blues song “Your Wildest Dreams,” came from behind one of the drapes. Gina took a few tentative steps inside. Mike followed, curious himself about what was going on. Darin had said there were a dozen people up here, but it was awfully quiet—

  A low, primal moan pierced the strains of the song, and in that instant Mike realized where they were. How could he have been so friggin’ naive?

  Before he could stop her, Gina stepped up to the part in the drapes and froze. Mike reached out to pull her back and caught a glimpse of a naked woman lying on some floor cushions. He got a hold of Gina but stopped cold.

  One guy was sucking the woman’s nipples as another guy lay between her thighs licking while she bucked. A third guy with long, wild, blond hair knelt beside her, his eyes closed, the veins at his neck bulging as she stroked his erection.