𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒
Newly engaged couple Sierra and Nick were eager to graduate college and move in together-finally starting their happily ever after.
But life isn't...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
Italy is hot.
Tugging the collar of my damp white shirt, I squint miserably into the blinding sunshine. I shift uncomfortably on the hard stone, suddenly recalling my sunglasses are hooked into my neckline. The soothing blanket of shade feels cool against my face as I slip them on.
You know in movies when somebody sexy strolls by—time crawls and music bumps like it's a slow-motion fantasy?
Seconds crawl as I watch my wife's hair flutter in the breeze, eyes glowing with cheer, and mine zero in on how her tits lightly bounce with every step. I swoop my gaze down her fitted white dress; the skirt flaring a bit over her sculpted legs.
Italy got hotter.
"Buonasera." Her bright smile is aimed at me as she halts in front of my spot at the Piazza del Campo.
Sierra brushes hair back from covering her neck, fingertips lingering near the dip in her neckline while my fingers and mouth itch to meet hers. I let out a low whistle and she winks at me, digging out her phone. Utensil loitering in her mouth, she scrolls through her phone, and I clear my throat, leaning forward.
Sierra grins at me while digging into her gelato cioccolato again. "Everything good?"
My eyes follow the trail of the spoon from the container to her lips, and my mouth waters. "Um, yes—I want some."
"Of this?" She asks, raising the dish before slipping the phone away. She holds the container out, and I'm still staring with a goofy grin on my face. "Here, babe, take it. You want some?"
"Um, yeah," I agree hastily. "Come sit."
"I can't." She grimaces, trying to hand me the gelato.
I take the container and kiss the back of her hand, then ask, "Why?"
Shadows of the crowd and buildings lengthen on the ground as the sun creeps lower at sunset, but I can still see she blushes pink.
"Ciao, bellisima." She glances over her shoulder at a group of men passing, making comments about her in Italian. One of them turned as he passed, backpedaling while blatantly checking her out.
"Hey, come here," I urge, patting the cobblestone. She looks back at me, the uncertainty vanishing while smiling down at me like I'm the only guy on the plaza.
She shakes her head and points somewhere behind me, "I thought you were going to take me back to the fountain before we head out."
We came to Tuscany on our honeymoon last year, and she wore this same dress, and there's something about it that gets me all riled up. Perhaps it's because she doesn't wear anything underneath both times I have seen her in it, and I have a sneaking suspicion this vacation is no exception.
"Okay," I agree, reaching for her outstretched hand to hoist me up.
SiSi waits for me to straighten up, and I slide my arm around her shoulders while we walk, the dish in my other hand. "Look at this picture he just sent," she coos, holding out her phone to show me a photo of Lukey hugging our dog back home. "I miss her already."
