She blinked up at him and her eyes went hazy.
He had her.
“Come on. Let’s go try that wine.”
He led her into the kitchen and she helped him cook dinner, a pasta made with the fresh ingredients he’d purchased earlier, garlic bread with peppery olive oil from the ranch and salad dressed with a vinaigrette of balsamic vinegar and mellow oil. While they cooked and ate, they talked. Joe told her about his large Italian family, the restaurants his parents owned and where he’d worked since he was twelve years old until he finished college.
“This is good,” she said. “You really can cook.”
He reached for the bottle and poured more wine into their glasses. “Thanks.”
They cleaned up together, then wandered outside with their wineglasses as the sun set. Crickets chirruped in the fields around the house, the sky deepening to a rich cobalt blue, the stars appearing one by one. The cool night air brushed over them.
A tall queen palm beside the house swayed gently in the evening breeze. The bright moon lit up the sculptural shapes of the plants, the black and spiky agave, the cacti round and deceptively soft in the darkness. The sweet scent of jasmine drifted to them from the flowers growing up the wall near the front door, filling his senses, reminding him of Tara’s scent.
“Wow.” Joe gazed up at the sky. “Living in the city, you don’t see stars like that very often.”
“You’re a city guy, aren’t you?” she murmured.
“Yeah, I guess I am. But up here, it feels…good.” He shrugged.
“You’re feeling it,” she said. “The romance of it.”
He looked askance at her.
“It’s the terroir.”
“The what?”
“It’s the land. Terroir is the influence of the land on the quality of the oil, the romantic part nobody can quite put their finger on. When the oil is good, people often say it is because of the land—the ideal soil, wonderful climate or whatever.”
“And when it tastes bad, it’s because of something else,” Joe murmured with amusement.
Her lips curved up. “Of course.” She lifted a shoulder and his hand trailed down her cheek to touch her collarbone, revealed in the open V of her T-shirt. “There’s a lot of science involved in olive productions—you’ve seen that. But there’s something else too…things difficult to pin down. I know all that stuff like irrigation and soil quality are really what matter, but there has to be heart and soul and…love.” She lowered her eyes in embarrassment.
“I think I know what you mean,” he said, his voice low and husky, fingers trailing down lower now, between the curves of her breasts. “Tara, you’re so beautiful.”
He took the wineglass from her hand and set it down on the low stone wall that edged the terrace. He turned her to face him, a soft breeze fluttering tendrils of her hair around her face. He ran a thumb across her full lower lip.
Tara laid her hands on his chest, looked up at him, then nipped at the pad of his thumb as it stroked across her mouth. Heat exploded in him and he hauled her up against his body and took her mouth in a wild, voracious kiss, eating at her mouth with avid hunger.
She met him equally, pressing herself against him, winding her arms around his neck and burrowing her fingers into his hair. Her mouth devoured his too, their tongues sliding and rubbing. They kissed over and over, hotter and wetter, the heat between them building to inferno temperature. Joe rubbed his hard cock against her mindlessly, hands sliding down to her ass to cup her and hold her there for him to press and rub against.
“I’m about to combust,” he groaned.
“Me too.” She rubbed herself back against him, her soft breasts dragging across his chest. “How do you do this to me, Joe?”
He didn’t know how to answer that question, so he just kissed her again, his hands sliding up underneath the cotton T-shirt she wore. Her back was silky smooth and curvy and she moaned into his mouth. Finding the clasp of her bra, he flicked it open, then yanked the top and the bra off over her head together.
Her breasts were bare to him in the moonlight, gleaming pearly skin and puckered nipples. He sucked in a breath as she leaned back in his arms so he could look at her. Saliva pooled in his mouth and he was afraid he was about to drool on her.
“Fucking awesome,” he muttered, unable to look away.
“Touch me,” she whispered. “Please.” It was the closest to begging she had gotten yet. His dick hardened painfully. Her head fell back, her arms straight as she clasped her hands together behind his neck. Her arms pushed her breasts together.
“Oh baby, all I can think about is sliding my dick up and down between those sweet tits.” His body burned with lust for her, his cock so hard he hurt, his skin hot and prickling. With trembling hands, he undid the button at the top of the skirt he’d allowed her to wear. It sat low on her hips and when he tugged down the short zipper, the skirt fell to the patio. She was wearing different underwear today, no less sexy but a little more covered up, white panties that looked like tiny lace-edged shorts. He stared down at them for a moment, then reached up to release her hands from behind his neck.
She made a little murmured questioning sound and he turned her around. “Let’s see the back,” he murmured. His gaze traveled down the curve of her back and he sucked in air through his teeth. “Oh baby, those little shorts only cover half your cheeks.” The rounded curve of her bottom beneath the lace edge set his heart thudding painfully in his chest.
“They’re not shorts,” she said, her voice choked. “They’re panties.”
“Whatever they are, they’re fucking hot.” He just had to touch. His hands stroked the rounded flesh, traced the crease where cheek met thigh and trailed down the back of her thighs.
Her body twitched hard at his touch and he knew he’d found a new erogenous zone. Overwhelmed with erotic need, he stroked her softly again and again there while she trembled and shook, her hands on the low wall in front of her, leaning slightly forward.
“I love your ass,” he whispered, leaning over her back to kiss her shoulder. “So smooth and round and soft.” Then he remembered his original plan and he whisked the panties down over her legs. While one hand fondled a breast, he opened his jeans with the other and released his throbbing cock. The night air drifted coolness over his burning flesh. He dug a condom out of his pocket and quickly rolled it on. Then he turned her back to face him and hoisted her up against him with his hands under that beautiful ass.
“Oh God, Joe, out here?” she whispered, clutching his shoulders.
“Yeah,” he said. “Right here. Right now.”
He managed to hold her with one arm while he nudged his way into her folds. She was wet, literally dripping wet and he almost dropped her as his knees went weak. “Normally I’d take a little more time,” he panted. “To make you ready. To get you nice and wet. But…Jesus…you’re already wet. And I…can’t…wait…” He pushed into her, struggling for control and patience. She was so tight and he felt heat and wet, warm tugging as she pulled him in. Slowly he eased into her, two hands back on her butt, bending his knees for a better angle.
She held on tightly, lifting and lowering herself slightly to help the fit, making little whimpers of need and urgency. Then he was in her all the way, his dark thatch of curls pressed to her tiny blonde patch. He looked down at where they were joined, amazed himself at how he fit into her slender body. He thrust up into her. “Look,” he gasped. “Look at us, Tara.”
She too looked down as their bodies drew apart and then slid together, a low ragged moan coming from deep inside her. The visual mesmerized, his thick flesh gleaming with her cream moving in and out of her. The sensation was indescribable, the tight friction of her body on his, the way he filled her, the way her body tightened and quivered as he held her up against him. He couldn’t keep his orgasm at bay much longer, but he wanted her to come.