Single Wide Female: The Bucket List Mega Bundle - 24 Books (Books #1-24) (11 page)

“It’s not just about the scent,” he said, still standing next to me. “It’s about the flavor, the taste, and the feeling that you have when you cook. It should be…” He paused a moment as if he was searching for the word.

“Sensual?” I said as I turned to look over my shoulder at him.

“Exactly.” He smiled slowly as he met my eyes. “Sensual,” he repeated and made my knees weak with just the word.

I felt as if I was trapped inside some lurid romance novel, at most of which I typically turned up my nose. Who had any of those kinds of experiences in real life? It certainly wasn’t me. Yet here I was, practically being seduced by a man whom I’d only just met.

“I can feel that,” I said, my heart pounding.

“Does it feel hot?” he asked and moved even closer to me. His hand drifted around behind my back.

“So hot,” I breathed out.

“You might be on fire,” he said and grabbed me tight around the waist.

“Oh, I am definitely on fire!” I cried out and leaned upward, expecting him to kiss me. Instead he twirled me around and away from the stove.

“The burner
—
I think it might have singed your hair,” he said with a frown as he stared at me.

My eyes widened. I realized I had yet again made a complete fool of myself.

In three sudden and determined strides he had me in his arms again. He kissed me without waiting for permission. I felt electricity course along my spine, through every nerve in my body, until I was certain that I would boil over with passion. When he pulled back and looked into my eyes I could see the same heat reflected in his gaze.

“I must have you, Samantha,” he said with a flourish.

I tried not to crack a smile at his words. They were so steamy, so unexpected, but cheesy at the same time.

“But the meal
—
” I began to say.

He spun around quickly and turned everything off on the stove.

“Never mind that,” he said as he turned back to me. “I want to cook for you. Take me home and I will cook for you there.”

“Oh, I bet you will,” I said in what I hoped was a sexy voice.

He nodded eagerly. I licked my lips. I could taste the sauce on them still. It had been so very long since I’d brought any man home to my apartment. I hadn’t even been on a date with this man and yet I was fully considering inviting him into my bed. Hell, I wasn’t considering, I was determined. In the past, I would have lectured any friend of mine that did the same. “The danger of casual sex,” I recalled saying, “is far greater than the pleasure.”

But I had been wrong. Vincenzo
—
whose last name I didn’t even know
—
had a passion burning in his eyes that I wanted to feel too. I wanted him to awaken it in me.

‘Yes,” I gulped out. “Come home with me.”

“Yes,” he smiled and kissed me hard once more.

If I hadn’t wanted to retain some level of dignity, I might have decided that going back to my place was going to take too long.

“We’ll take my car,” he said and grabbed his keys from the counter.

I blinked. I stared at him, as he looked at me expectantly.

“Samantha?” he asked as he gave me a puzzled look. “I asked if you would like a ride home?”

I felt deep disappointment as I realized fantasy and reality had merged. Vincenzo was offering me a lift, not a night of passionate lovemaking. I tried to keep from laughing as I thought about how quickly my imagination could take over.

I smiled. “Thank you,” I said.

It might not have been the seductive scene I had been imagining, but it was a start. I had entered the cooking class certain that I would learn something about spice and flavor, and I was leaving with the same determination.

Chapter 6

The ride to my apartment was filled with sexual tension
—
at least I thought it was. Vincenzo was impossible to read, as he was babbling on about sauces and the perfect firmness of pasta. I was just enjoying the sound of his voice.

When he parked at my apartment complex, I willed myself to kiss him, to ask him out on a date, to do anything that could possibly lead to the fantasy I’d had back in the classroom. But it was so much easier to just keep my mouth shut. It was so much less risky, so much safer not to put myself out there.

“Thanks,” I said as I stepped out of the car. When I closed the door behind me, Vincenzo was rounding the front of the car.

“I’ll walk you,” he said as he glanced around the dark parking lot. “It’s late.”

I smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s a safe area.”

“I’ll walk you,” he said again and slipped his arm through mine.

I enjoyed him being so close to me.

We walked silently up to the door of my apartment. When we paused in front of it, he made no motion to leave. Instead he gazed deeply into my eyes, as if he was waiting.

I stared at him intently. I could feel the words forming in my mind. I couldn’t believe that I was really going to ask. But I couldn’t stop myself from speaking.

“Do you want to come inside?” I asked and giggled. Yes, I giggled
—
at thirty-two.

Vincenzo smiled. “I would love to,” he said with a nod and took my hand gently in his own.

I smiled and turned the key in the lock. I felt my heart racing. This was a big no-no on my list of things that I, Samantha, did
not
do. If a man wanted to see the inside of my apartment, he had to take me out on at least three dates, and that was only to stand inside the door while I grabbed my coat. But I had already invited him in; there was no turning back now. It would be rude. I pushed the door open behind me. Vincenzo stepped in after me. I was being brave, I told myself, I was being very brave.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.” I cringed as I noticed some of my clothes and a towel draped over various pieces of furniture.

“It’s just fine,” Vincenzo said. “Remember, Samantha, you must relax.” He reached out and began rubbing my shoulders.

“Oh, um,” I whispered, feeling very flustered. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure.” I felt his lips brush along the curve of my neck as he spoke.

I slipped away from him and headed into the kitchen. All of a sudden my heart was hammering for another reason. I had just invited a complete stranger into my home. He was already nuzzling my neck. I didn’t even know if Vincenzo was his last name or his first name. I shuddered as I grabbed a bottle of wine. I wanted to be this love-on-a-whim type of woman, but I wasn’t very good at it. I could see the headlines in the newspaper:

Desperate young woman invites a stranger into her room and no one is surprised when she’s found chopped into bits.

“Samantha?” Vincenzo called out from the living room. “Do you need some help?”

I was so startled by the sound of his voice that the bottle of wine slipped out of my hand. It shattered against the floor, spilling shards of glass and puddles of red wine. It looked like a crime scene had materialized.

“I’ll be right there.”

“Samantha?” he said again, only this time he was standing right inside my kitchen. “What happened?” I was on my knees trying to gather the shards of glass together. “No, no,” he said. “Don’t do that, you might
—
”

“Ouch,” I cursed under my breath—the red that was spreading across my palm was not wine. “I’m sorry,” I said as I looked up at him. I was on my knees in the middle of a huge mess, and to top it off I was bleeding now. What he must have thought as he looked at me, I didn’t even want to imagine. He snatched a towel off the oven door handle and crouched down in front of me.

“Shh…accidents happen.” He reached for my hand. I spread my fingers out. He pressed the towel gently against the cut in my palm. It was just a thin slice, but it felt good to have someone tend to my wounds.

“To me, they seem to happen all of the time.” I sighed and gazed into his beautiful brown eyes. Only moments before, I had been imagining that this man could be a killer. Now he was being so tender that I was certain I had lost my mind.

“Don’t worry so much, Samantha, and then you won’t have so many accidents.” He chuckled and pulled the towel away. “See? All better.”

I smiled at him and took the towel. I remembered why I had invited him in. He had a very honest nature. I grabbed a dustpan and broom to get the rest of the glass up.

“There’s another bottle of wine in the refrigerator,” I said as I scooped up the glass.

“Oh, Samantha,” he said as he surveyed the contents of my refrigerator, “I will have to take you shopping.”

I laughed a little at that and washed my hands carefully in the sink. By the time I turned around he had already poured us both a glass of wine.

“To a passionate evening,” he said as he offered me my glass. I reached for it, but he tugged it back playfully. “Relax, Samantha, or you might drop it.”

I smiled, feeling shy as I took the glass in my hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said and sipped his wine.

Chapter 7

As Vincenzo and I walked back into the living room, I still felt a little uneasy. Bringing someone into my apartment was like bringing them into my psyche. So much could be learned about me if one knew where to look.

“This is a nice place you have here,” he said and sat down on the couch.

I sat down beside him.

“It does the job.” I laughed.

“Have you lived here long?” he asked.

“For quite some time.” I didn’t want him to think that I was strange for living in the same apartment for nearly ten years.

“Well, then it is home,” he said and sipped his wine again.

I felt his arm drift over my shoulders. Instantly I tensed up. So did my grasp on the stem of the wine glass. I nearly spilled some with the sudden jerk of my hand. I reminded myself to relax. It was just a glass of wine, just a lovely evening between friends, and it didn’t have to lead to anything more than that, except
—
oh my god, that was his lips on my neck.

Vincenzo had put his glass down on the table beside the couch. His lips were nuzzling playfully at the sensitive curve of my neck. I would have protested, if I weren’t already drifting into pleasure. I felt him take the wine from my hand. He set it down carefully. Then he kissed me. It was a kiss that was much more than a kiss. It was a kiss of passion, of lust, of fireworks. With a shiver I pulled back slightly from him.

“Vincenzo, this is a little fast for me.”

“It is as fast as passion is dictating,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes. Pretty words never convinced me of anything. But the glide of his hand along my thigh did.

“I don’t normally do this,” I breathed out.

He kissed me again. I began to feel my body unwind. Be brave, Samantha, it was pleading.

“Just relax,” Vincenzo whispered as he slipped his arms around me. “Sometimes the body must have what it must have.”

His words sank in as my mind spun with desire. It really wasn’t something I would normally do. But I felt as if there was no turning back. As Vincenzo had said, sometimes the body must have what it must have.

The thing about unplanned sleepovers is that you never think about having company in your bedroom when you leave your panties in a ball on the floor, or used tissues in a pile, or your teddy bear staring down from a shelf that overlooks your bed. All of those things seem perfectly normal when you leave your bedroom in the morning—but not when you return with Vincenzo on your arm.

I turned off the light as soon as we walked into the room, hoping to hide most of my transgressions. Vincenzo didn’t seem to care. Instead, he spent quite some time, teaching me just how to relax.

By the time we were snuggled close in the afterglow, I felt more relaxed than I could recall ever feeling. In that span of time Max didn’t even cross my mind. The dirty tissues in a pile ceased to exist. The glaringly obvious risk of having a stranger in my bed seemed completely unimportant. All that mattered was Vincenzo’s arms around me.

“Marry me, my love.” He kissed softly along the back of my neck.

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything,” he murmured and continued to kiss me.

I realized he hadn’t spoken. I had heard what I wanted to hear. But was that really possible after only knowing this man for one day? Could I be in love already? My mind drifted to what our babies would look like, what our home would be like, what our wedding would be like.

“Vincenzo,” I whispered and turned toward him, only to find that he was snoring softly. I smiled at his sweet slumbering face. It was a face I could get used to waking up next to.

I snuggled close to him and closed my eyes. I was very relieved that he wasn’t a serial killer. I was even more relieved that for once a risk I had taken had worked out for the best.

In my dreams, I could see my life unfolding. There was a man beside me, as I bought a house, as I had a child, as I began to grow old. It was a lovely dream. But every time I turned to look at the man of my dreams, he seemed to be turning away. I could never see more than a glimpse of the back of his head.

When I opened my eyes, I was smiling. I rolled over in the bed to find Vincenzo right beside me. He was still sound asleep, his breathing heavy. He gasped a little when he snored. The bed was so warm I almost didn’t want to get out. But I wanted to surprise him with what I could do when I was relaxed. I pulled on a long t-shirt and wandered out into the kitchen. Once the coffee was on I set about creating a delicious breakfast.

I was excited to prepare breakfast for Vincenzo. I knew it would be nothing compared to what he could create, but I was looking forward to showing him that I was trying. I gathered the things I needed from my small pantry, tucked my ear buds into my ears, and turned the music up loud. I danced around the kitchen as I tossed in the ingredients.

I couldn’t hear the sizzle of the oil, but I could smell the scent of the seasoning. It was making my mouth water. As I continued to dance, I thought about how easily my body moved. I remembered my pole dancing class and how I’d shifted into another state of mind while I danced. I couldn’t even remember what I’d done, but whatever it was had drawn admiration from the other students. I felt like I was right on the edge of that other state of mind once more.