Lonzo: Book 2 (Tycoon Series Book 2) (2 page)

He raised his brows, looking at the direction of a secluded spot before looking back at her wolfishly. “Good thing I like Mozart.”

Her eyes grew rounded at the hot look he gave her. She knew
that
look.

“You want to… it’s broad daylight!” she said, scandalized. “You crazy, insatiable…beast!”

His hand shot out to hold hers, leading her to the direction of the secluded glen.“No one will see,
cara
,” he said wickedly.

“We can’t!”

“Sure we can. Just keep it down a bit.”

“I’m not noisy!” she protested.

He tugged her closer. “You are…especially when you’re about to come.”

“You’re making that one up!” she continued to insist.

“I just might be in the mood to prove you wrong.”

And he did prove her wrong. And what a way to establish his point because the sounds she made was deafening, even to her own ears. She completely lost her wits as he rammed his cock inside her.

They were almost caught doing it. A couple of pickers passed by. Had he not covered her lips with his when they both reached their climax, they would’ve caused a ruckus.

She hated to be proven wrong but as he drew her tightly against him afterward, her lips curved up into a smile. She could make an exception this time, she thought as she snuggled closer into his warmth.

Jordana eyed her lover in disbelief.
When he coaxed her into agreeing to explore the lesser-known parts of Tuscany, she thought they’d be taking one of his cars for a joyride. She wasn’t expecting this…or him turning up on a shiny, black Ducati superbike. But then, he did ask her to wear jeans and a jacket.

Admittedly, seeing her lover garbed in all-black—black jeans, a supple black leather riding jacket—gave her eyes something to feast on. The entire costume molded his tall, powerful frame to perfection.

Lonzo drove the bike toward where she stood with her mouth open, catching flies.

She acknowledged that when you put together an alpha male and a big, baddie motorcycle, it gave another dimension to the term sexy. Man and machine were dangerous to the well-being of females. ‘Tis a known fact.

He drew to a stop and removed his helmet.

The man looked so damned good that she looked like an idiot with her gaping mouth.

Then he gave her one of his slow, smoldering smiles.

The man was pure, unadulterated visual chocolate. Period.

“Hey, cara.”

She vehemently shook her head. “Nah-uh. No way.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, his smile gave way into a grin. “Hop on,
bella
.”

“I’m not hopping on that thing!”

“You’ll love it,” he said with a half-grin. “I promise.”

Why not give it a try? So far he more than delivered on his promises…

“No.”

He tapped on the leather seat of the Ducati Streetfighter. “Join me.”

She continued to look at him skeptically. “I don’t think so. ”

“What are you so afraid of? You jetted all over the world—”

She raised an eyebrow at him, “Last time I checked, planes are still the safest form of transportation. Nice try, Vitale, but it’s a no. You won’t persuade me this time.”

He switched off the bike’s engine and climbed off to saunter toward her. He held one of her hands with his while his other grabbed her hip to pull her close.

“Your hand is cold. You’ve never been on the back of a bike, haven’t you?” he said gently.

She raised her wary eyes. How can she explain that her reasons went way deeper than lack of opportunity?

An unwanted memory suddenly played inside her mind. She was a child again…she could hear the roar of motorcycles heading for the
favela
where they lived before the sounds of a gun battle ensued. Stray bullets punctured the paper thin walls of their home…one narrowly whizzed through her left cheek before embedding itself in one of the posts made hallow by termite infestation. The grazing heat of the bullet was real enough to make her dive face down to the floor…

“Jordana? What is it?”

She blinked, melting away the bad scenes. “Huh? What?”

“Thought I lost you for a second.”

She shrugged. “It was nothing.”

“How come you never ridden one?”

“Don’t be too surprised. I don’t even know how to ride a bicycle until a few days ago, remember?” she replied, her voice trailing. She was shaken up from the repressed memory. The doctor who saw her as a child had tried to explain it to her. Visual cues may trigger her mind to remember…

“Why is that?” He was determined to get the truth out of her. And she was determined to lock it away for good. Why can’t he just let it go?

“Because that was that! I was busy working and none of my friends or acquaintances owned one. Besides, Leandro preferred cars,” she answered, namedropping her best friend’s name to throw Lonzo off the scent.

She got the expected reaction out of him. His face tightened at the mere mention of Leandro, though he refrained from making biting comments.

“Good,” he said after regarding her for a minute. “Let it be another first you have with me. Call it broadening your horizons.”

“I can’t—”

“What are you afraid of? I won’t let you fall,” he said with conviction before zipping up the jacket she had on.

Way too late for that
, a voice inside her whispered, pertaining to something else altogether. She hastily dismissed the thought. No, she would not entertain
that
thought!

It was so hard to think when he was too close like this. “If you succeed into making me a road kill, I’ll never speak to you again. Ever.”

He chuckled at that. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m serious, Vitale! If I die, this will be the shortest af—” what she had to say was cut short because Lonzo bent his head and kissed her lingeringly on the mouth.

Then he placed the spare helmet over her head.

“Nothing bad will happen, Jordana,” he assured her. He adjusted the straps under her chin. “There. You’re ready to ride.”

She scowled at him. “Can you promise not to go all speed demon on me?”

He smirked before placing his own helmet on his head and easily swinging one leg over the motorbike. He kicked the bike stand and casually lifted the bike upright like it was the lightest thing in the world.

He held his hand toward her. “Come on, cara. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“I don’t like this,” she mumbled mutinously as she clumsily imitated his earlier graceful leg swing.

“You’ll like it.”

She fumbled twice before she finally got the hang of it.

Lonzo found it amusing though, his green eyes sparkled with mirth as he looked at her over his shoulder.

“Rest your feet on the foot rests. There. Now, put your arms around my waist,” he said next.

She followed his instructions and silently reveled when her hips came in contact with his taut butt while her breasts pressed against his hard, muscled back. When Lonzo fired the engine up, things got even more interesting.

Goodness. He was right again. She liked it. The powerful throbbing coming from the machine was a huge turn on—the exquisite vibrations left her center achy. She let out a low moan that she knew he will not hear above the roar of the superbike’s powerful engine.

Her hands roamed over the rock-hard planes of his abs as she pressed her torso to his back to ease the sensitivity. His response was rapid, she could feel his sudden heat through their clothing.

So riding with a lover had fringe benefits. Interesting.

“Behave, woman. I’m trying to keep us safe here,” he growled above the noise.

She smiled impishly as she snuggled closer and began to relax, basking in the newly-found power she had over him.

The bike moved smoothly forward. She continued to cling to him like a monkey, anxious all of a sudden. Lonzo was in complete control of the bike, cautiously moving the Ducati over the pebble-lined lane of the vineyard’s main house, to the tree-lined pathway before exiting to the main thoroughfare.

He slowly accelerated when they reached the highway, but not so much as to make her panic. She was sure that he was going slower than what he would normally do.

Soon, she relaxed and started to enjoy the view. Being on a motorbike gave her a new appreciation for her surroundings. Nature felt closer, intimate. The cool breeze kissed her face, the scent of pine trees and salty sea air merging as they neared the coastline. Now she understood why films like “Easy Rider” were made. Riding a motorcycle gave one a sense of freedom that can’t be beaten by riding a car.

“Where are we off to?”

“To Maremma.”

“Explain and expound, Vitale. Didn’t have time to brush up on geography.”

“It’s on the island of Giglio.”

“Wait…don’t tell me…you own the island, right? Surely you can’t be that cliched?”

He laughed out loud at that. “Not the entire island. Just a part of it…a hideaway. And I’m taking you to it.”

She grew excited, her sense of adventure whetted.

She missed out so much in life as she worked all the time and played it safe. Not anymore. If there was one thing she learned over these past weeks, it was to live life to the fullest. And try everything, at least once…safety-nets be damned! And she credited her sudden
joie de vivre
to this guy.

Maremma was sixty miles away from Montalcino.
They reached Marina di Grosetto around noontime, where his gleaming new yacht was moored to sail them off to Giglio. They had lunch in one of the beach side cafés, where he cautioned her when she left several bills for tip. He took it from the table and slid the money to the back pocket of her jeans.

“Never tip in Italy.”

“But—”

“Italians consider it offensive.”

“Why on earth would you think that?!”

“We feel you’re trying to ‘buy’ us off.”

“Preposterous!”

He kissed the top of her nose. “That’s the way things are here,
bella
. It’s an Italian thing.”

“Uh…I have another question.”

He frowned. “Si?”

“Is it also considered an ‘Italian’ thing to cup butts in public? Case in point…your hands, my butt?” she asked, looking at him pointedly.

He laughed his head off at that. He pulled her closer, his attitude uncaring.

“No,
cara
. I just hate it when these male pricks around us keep on checking you out. It’s a Vitale thing.”

Possessive much? She should be appalled at his blatant display of machismo. But she was not.

Afterward, they explored the area. He was at home here, cracking her up in more ways than one as he gave her insights from the point of view of a Tuscan native. They walked around ancient villages, aqueducts and Roman ruins. He showed her the varying shoreline and the breathtaking crystal-clear waters. The amazing landscape appealed to the nature nut in her.

He also made her blush into varying shades of red when they made a pit stop in one of the local convenience stores. It was too late to when she finally realized what he picked from one of the shelves.

Condoms. Extra large.

Several boxes of it.

The cashier, an attractive brunette, covetously eyed him as they paid for the magnum-sized rubbers.

She wanted to melt in embarrassment. Sure it was obvious they were lovers but she was still prudish about these things—especially when the number of boxes advertised the activity they were about to do.

As the boxes were being wrapped, the girl gave her a long, envious look that said ‘
you don’t deserved him, bitch!’.

Thank goodness she just got her nails clipped otherwise she would’ve pulled her eyes off her sockets.

She gave off a relieved sigh when they stepped out of the store.

“Do you really have to let everyone in the loop?!” she scowled.

He gave her a too-innocent look. His eyes glinted so she knew it was all an act. “What did I do now?”

“You…! Now that girl will think we are doing it like…like…minks!” she hissed.

“Well, well, well. So that’s another first for you? First time to buy condoms?” He sounded so smug.

“No. I buy condoms all the time. They make great balloons.”

He grinned. “You’re get embarrassed about a lot of things.”

“If you remember, I was a virgin a couple of weeks ago. ”

“Jordana, people have sex every day. There’s no reason to be embarrassed about buying condoms, especially in this country,” he said, grinning at her still incredulous face. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You can even get it from vendo machines nowadays. Next time, we’ll get some from a vendo near my office—”