Player's Ultimatum (16 page)

Yvonne blinked the sleep from her eyes and focused on the sun setting. An orange glow tinted the early evening sky, turning it a beautiful shade of coral. A stark contrast to the ugly situation she’d fallen into.

Damn trapeze!

Sighing heavily, Yvonne rolled over onto her back and winced. Her body hadn’t been prepared for the marathon sex fest they’d shared al afternoon. Paolo had taken her in positions she’d only read about in
Cosmopolitan
magazine.

Yvonne turned her head and her gaze fel on her lover. Stil dead to the world, he lay on his stomach his arm wrapped around a pil ow. Under normal circumstances, the situation would have been a fantasy come true. She would have chosen Paulo as a lover without a second thought.

Of course under “normal circumstances”, he would not have chosen her. He was beautiful and like the old saying went, birds of a feather flocked together. And she was the proverbial black swan who always felt oddly out of place.

Depressed, Yvonne rolled out of bed. She’d take a shower and make it home in under an hour or at least before the sunset.

Yvonne picked up his discarded t-shirt and pulled it over her head. Before al owing it to set le across her shoulders, she caught up the col ar and sniffed. The shirt was infused with his scent and a hint of sunshine. She barely took two steps and her pussy started to pool. In a word, she was whipped.

Angry at herself for fal ing so quickly, Yvonne stomped to the bathroom. As soon as she was inside with the door safely closed behind her, she ripped off his t-shirt and threw it in the corner. The very far corner because his bathroom rivaled Rome’s Coliseum.

Milky white Italian marble dominated the interior. A cherry oak vanity fitted with double sinks spanned the length of one wal and a claw foot tub, with her name written all over, dominated the other.

Her well-used body gravitated toward the tub, but she opted for a quick shower.
Where were the doors?
Considering ten people could pile inside, the stal probably didn’t need any barriers to keep the water in.

Oh wel , she shrugged. If she flooded the place, she flooded it. Yvonne stepped inside and turned on the water. Expecting jet spray, her mouth dropped open as a fine mist floated down from the ceiling.

“A girl could get used to this.” She pumped a heap of foamy soap into her palm.

“Get used to what?” Paulo stepped in behind her and slid his arms around her waist. His dark hair stood up at odd angles and his eyes were still heavy with sleep.

Damn. Should be a sin for a man to be this sexy!

He pressed his lips behind her ear and trailed kisses down her throat. Every time he touched her Yvonne melted like put y in his hands. This time wasn’t any different. Before she hit the tiles, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Gabe’s going to prepare a light supper for us.” He murmured between kisses. Yvonne shuddered. His lips could convert a saint.

Yvonne pushed back from him. Taken off guard, his hold relaxed, al owing her to turn her back to him. “I can’t stay. I’ve been here long enough,” she offered up the excuse. She needed to get out of here or she’d falleven harder! “Robbie wil wonder why I’ve taken so l—”

Yvonne ended her sentence when Paolo pinned her against the wal .

“Tel him it’s my fault. Tel him I couldn’t get enough.” He wedged his thigh between her legs and kicked them open. “And that I stil can’t.”

Air touched her sex and she shivered. With one hand palming her breast, the other tucked between her legs, parting her folds.

He entered her easily.

He slowly rolled his hips against her, pressing his cock even deeper. He felt so good her knees buckled. To steady herself, she braced one hand against the wall, the other she curled around his neck.

“What kind of spel have you cast over me?” he grunted. He rubbed her sex with his open palm and rocked his hips back and forth, pushing her toward yet another orgasm. How many had he already given her? In truth she had no idea, she’d stopped counting at five over two hours ago. If anyone was bewitched or bedeviled, damned if it wasn’t her!

“No spel ,” she panted, her excitement rising with each thrust. Yvonne blew out a long breath. Her mind was starting to become fuzzy, the simple act of breathing an almost insurmountable feat. The man had a diamond dick that was quickly becoming her best friend.

Nothing in the world felt as good as this moment. The both of them slick with sweat, soap and water, their bodies desperately grinding against the other. Paolo fil ing her pussy. Then he made it took it to an al new level when he grasped a hold of her nipple and pulled. Yvonne’s world shattered, her release so powerful, she was on the verge of tears.

“When you do that you only make me hornier.” He wrapped his arm around her, the other under her leg. He rammed into her with short hard thrusts as his lips settled in the crook of her neck and he bit down.

Not hard. Just enough pressure that Yvonne soon learned that orgasms sometimes came in pairs or in Paolo’s case in multiples of seven or more.

*****

“Rise and shine sleepy head.”

Opening her eyes with a start, Yvonne blinked down at the embroidered bedspread. She fingered the intricate gold and silver threads interwoven in the cream satin material and sighed in relief. After leaving Paolo’s, she’d come home mumbled a few words about being exhausted and flung herself in bed.

Robbie jiggled her but with his foot. Getting the message, Yvonne rolled over and sat up. “Good morning,” she yawned as he set a breakfast tray between them.

She reached out and plucked a turkey sausage link from one of the plates.

“More like afternoon, slut.”

Startled, Yvonne’s hand hung in midair. “What time is it?” she asked. The room didn’t have a clock and her watch was somewhere on the floor along with the rest of yesterday’s outfit.

Robbie dug into a pancake. “Long enough for me to go to morning practice, run a few errands and cook you breakfast.”

“I guess al that shopping tired me out,” Yvonne lied. She peeked at Robbie to gauge his reaction, but he was too busy shoveling a forkful of buckwheat pancake in his mouth.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t wake you,” he mumbled. “Things have been insane lately.” Tel me about it! Paolo practically turned her brains to mush yesterday. In spite of their sex marathon, he’d pressed her to commit to another rendezvous this afternoon. Luckily, she blew him off with claims of prior plans with Robbie. The rest of the week, the team would be on the road.

“Oh, before I forget, a courier stopped by earlier.” Robbie reached in his back pocket. “Going to take a few classes?” Yvonne eyed the envelope addressed from a
Professore Giovonne D’Amato
of
Un Giorno Artisan.

“The One Day Artisan,” Robbie translated. “If you want to take one of his courses, you better jump on it. Mini-courses like this fil up pret y quick. They’re popular with tourist looking to immerse themselves in Italian culture.” Robbie pushed away from the bed, his empty plate in tow. “I’m going to take a nap. Practice was a bitch. Your boy, Paolo, kept cut ing me off or ramming into me. If I didn’t believe al the rumors of him being a stud, I would say dude needs to get laid.” He laughed at his own joke as did she, yet Yvonne hoped he couldn’t tell hers was lit le more forced than his. She and Paolo went at it so much yesterday she would be good until next Christmas.

After Robbie left, Yvonne tore into the envelope.

Inside she found a welcome letter along with a course syl abus. Before she even read the salutation, her hands started shaking.

Dear Ms. Floyd,

I am very excited about your enrollment in my six week art class. Your time will be split working with watercolor, oils,

charcoal and even photography both in the studio and on location. We will meet thrice a week beginning next

Monday. Normally, my classes are held in my studio; however, other arrangements have been made. The address is

enclosed.

Ciao,

Professore Giovonne D’Amato

Copy To: PS

Yvonne knew Paolo Saito wasn’t going to be deterred from what he wanted. And she could accept that. How could she remain indifferent to him when he threw one of her heartfelt desires, garnered through an innocuous conversation, in her face?

No longer hungry, Yvonne pushed the breakfast tray to the end of the bed, and then balled up into a fetal position. Despite all of her bravado, Yvonne knew she couldn’t handle a no-strings-at ached kind of arrangement. Every time she had sex with a man she gave something of herself, she opened herself up to al kinds of emotions and potential y painful feelings.

Seeing Paolo on a regular basis was going to break her. Once the season ended, he would discard her like the dozens of other women who’d fallen al over themselves to land one of Europe’s soccer stars.

If there was some kind of consolation, at least Robbie would remain oblivious with a multi-mil ion dol ar contract, while she’l end up getting screwed, in more ways than one.

*****

Yvonne didn’t bother looking at the address at ached to the class syllabus. A straight shot from the city center along the Grand Circle Road, she had no problem making her way back to Paolo’s estate.

As she drove, she ran over the finer points of the pep talk she’d given herself to help her get out of bed when al she wanted to do was hide under the covers. She vowed to strengthen her resolve to protect her heart at al costs and her work to eventually bring Paolo Saito to his knees.

“Honestly, what was there to be afraid of at this point?”

They’d already had sex. All she needed to do was go through the motions for the next two or three months and then she’d walk away. She and Robbie would be sitting pret y. He’d have his contract and she was going to be debt free and working for Nico Matteo in Venice, since she’d decided just this morning to accept his offer.

Thankful y, the club’s morning practice wouldn’t be over until noon, so Yvonne knew Paolo wasn’t home when she arrived.

Stil , his absence didn’t dispel her pounding heart or cool the hot flush stealing over her body when she reached for the doorbel .

She could do this, Yvonne coached while she waited. She just needed to keep her mind and heart separated from her body’s response. Heck, she could even enjoy the sex as long as she kept everything in perspective.
Couldn’t she?

“Ah,
Signorina
Floyd. It’s good to see you again.” Unable to return the greeting, Yvonne simply smiled at Gabe as he stepped back to let her into the house.

Several degrees cooler than the outside, the quiet tranquility of the darkened foyer helped to relieve her jittery nerves.

“You don’t have to address me so formally, Gabe. Just call me Yvonne. No
Signorina
. No Miss. Just Yvonne, please.” Gabe nodded his head in acknowledgement. “If that is your wish, Yvonne, then I aim to please. Now if you would al ow me to show—”

Preferring to do her walk of shame alone, Yvonne interrupted him, “I can find my way to Paolo’s bedroom just fine, thank you.”

Before he could object to her wondering around the house alone, Yvonne headed toward the stairs. “Um,
Signorina
…

Yvonne please wait.” For an old cotton head, Gabe hustled over to her surprisingly fast. “Where are you going?” Yvonne expelled a heavy sigh.
Couldn’t a girl get a break?
Bad enough she was practical y prostituting herself, but did everyone have to be involved? Slightly irritated, Yvonne spun around. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going upstairs to wait on Paolo.”

Gabe clapped his hands together. “
Signor
Saito won’t be home for some time.
Professore
D’Amato is awaiting you in the studio.”

Yvonne removed the foot from her mouth. “The studio?”

“
Si,
Salvatore and I converted one of the downstairs bedrooms yesterday. You’l be meeting three times a week for two hours at a time, so we figured you needed a real studio.”

Taken by surprise, Yvonne struggled to keep up as Gabe led her through the house. He pointed out the function of various rooms, even those behind closed doors and provided a brief history of the estate.

He might as wel have been speaking Greek. He’d lost her when she learned she real y would be taking art classes instead of sitting around waiting to be Paolo’s personal blow up dol .

*****

Squat and equally round,
Professore
Giovonne D’Amato proved to be an affable man who claimed he could teach a goat to paint. And he needed that expertise to teach her, Yvonne mused. She could barely color inside the lines.

In the first half hour, D’Amato breezed through the course syl abus and his expectations of her as a student. Actual y, there was only one, to enjoy herself.

“If you don’t enjoy creating, then no one will enjoy your creation,” he said while he gestured effusively with his hands. He listed the supplies she would need and where she’d find them in the bureau located in the far corner of the room before, he handed her a black painter’s smock.

“We are going to jump right in today.” Grinning, D’Amato rubbed his meaty hands together. “Al paintings begin with a simple foundation such as a sketch or an outline.”

Yvonne fol owed him over to an empty easel already set up in front of a metal stool and a set of French doors leading out to the formal garden. Natural sunlight spilled through the naked glass to warm the hard wood floors.

With such an unhampered view of the gardens, Yvonne worried she might not get anything done. The sun dappled fruit trees and groupings of multi-colored flowers dot ing the manicured lawns seemed to go on forever. The green grass beckoned, it had her wanting to grab a book and find a spot in the shade. Before she could give in to temptation, a loud
thunk
pulled her out of her nature goddess dreams.

“Here is your sketch book.” D’Amato flipped the cover page over the back of the easel. “And here are several pieces of charcoal. You’l have two forms to practice with today. The first is set up over there,” he said, nodding toward the middle of the room where a small table was set with a bowl of fruit.