Violet Addiction (10 page)

“The man who gifted you something so beautiful must be quite significant in your life,” Peiro quietly noted. I turned to look at him, confused by his statement. His dark gaze was on my necklace. I managed to release the amethyst and smiled with a small nod.

“What makes you think a man gave it to me?” I wondered.

“Only a man would buy something so exquisite for a woman.” He watched me, no accusation or anger in his eyes, merely a curiosity which I couldn’t blame him for.

“My best friend gave it to me last Christmas,” I explained.

“A stunning amethyst diamond for a stunning girl called Violet, very appropriate.”

I nodded. That’s how Cain was; his gifts were always carefully thought out and always appropriate. Now memories of Cain tumbled into a moment that was supposed to be Cain free.

“We had a falling out shortly after he gave it to me,” I went on to explain, the words spilling out like an overfilled cup.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Surprisingly, Peiro’s eyes held a sincerity I wasn’t used to seeing in my world, especially from virtual strangers. “True friendships are hard to find in this world, to lose one is difficult.”

I nodded in agreement, a tightening in my chest causing my throat to thicken with emotion. “I’ve spent the last six months in a rehabilitation facility for drug addiction,” I suddenly blurted out.
Way to go, Violet, of all the snippets of truth and honesty you could give this handsome, strange man, you decided to go with the Mac Daddy of them all.
I didn’t want to see Peiro’s reaction to my words, so I put my head down and continued on, “Cain and I had been friends since high school; he plays piano, and I sing. We’re a jazz duet. We do covers mostly, and we’ve made good money and achieved a lot of success in a short amount of time. Cain’s always been there for me, always helped me and cleaned up the messes I made. This time though, he wasn’t there. I hurt him pretty bad, and he left. So, our manager, Harry, got me into a rehab facility. I was there roughly six months. When I got out, I decided I wasn’t quite ready to face reality yet, so that’s why I’m here, on vacation.” Peiro was quiet for such a long time I finally drew on the courage to face him. I glanced nervously across the small gap, expecting to see disgust, pity, loathing. His face was a closed book, his eyes fixed on the pool. I could almost envision him standing, politely excusing himself, and walking away. I would never see him again. Wow, I had completely screwed up another friendship, yet again. Why couldn’t I get this right? I mean, what was so difficult about relationships that the only one I seemed able to maintain was with my manager?

“I have to admit, I am curious how someone, who was a so called friend, could leave you when you needed him most,” Peiro finally whispered. My gaze darted to his. “People make mistakes, Violet, and you don’t abandon friends when they need you the most.”

“I spent years pushing Cain away while at the same time holding him close. Our friendship was not equal, and it hurt him.” I would protect Cain and defend him until my dying breath. Peiro nodded, but it seemed like an action meant to pacify me. I could still see the disagreement he held in his eyes.

“The strongest of us are not those who wear their strength on the outside for all to see, but those who carry their strength inside and fight battles others know nothing about.” We stared at each other, our eyes locked in a moment of understanding and acceptance. For the first time in my entire life, I felt something unfurl inside me. It was as if my heart, weathered, beaten, and hardened over years of self-degradation and hurt, unexpectedly softened just a little. In that fragment of time, in a foreign land, under the blossoming friendship with a virtual stranger, my heart finally began to heal.

I had one week left of my vacation, and I was studiously ignoring the count down. The last few weeks with Peiro had been life affirming. He had systematically woven his way into my life, carving himself a permanent place in my heart. We had done little more than innocent touches and chaste kisses and a whole bunch of talking, but today, I had woken up with a new craving. I wanted more…no, I
needed
more. I needed to once again feel an intimacy I had long been without. The need and want was there, but so was an anxious fear. I had never had sex that wasn’t messy, angry, and fast, and I had not had sex sober, ever. My last experience with a man ended up being an uninvited duet, a night that would forever mark my world for all the wrong reasons. The need to feel normal and experience something so personal and profound drove me to a pre-dawn run, a long cool shower, and several wardrobe changes. Peiro was taking me on a date, but he hadn’t told me wear. I’d finally opted for a yellow spaghetti strap sundress and flip flops with pretty yellow daisies on them. As I paced the living room, waiting for Peiro, I wondered how on earth I managed to lose my virginity without having a panic attack. Oh wait, I was stoned. I barely remember the night…or afternoon…or morning. Would I need a condom? Shit, I didn’t have any condoms. Wasn’t that the guy’s responsibility? I was on the pill and had been since my first medical exam in the rehabilitation facility, but that didn’t mean that I shouldn’t still take precautions when having sex. My track record in this department had been sorely lacking, and the relief I felt when I was cleared of any unsavory contagions because of my messy sexual attitude was overpowering. I swore from then on I would always protect myself first and foremost.

The loud rap at the door made me jump, then I fumbled with the door knob for what seemed an eternity before it swung open, and Peiro stood before me in all his Italian glory. He wore a casual button down shirt and cargo shorts, his olive skin warm and inviting beside the lighter fabric of his shirt. I barely caught myself ogling him before I diverted an obscene amount of attention on gathering my shoulder bag and locking up the villa.

“Bello Tesoro,” Peiro murmured, snaking a hand around my waist and gifting me with an unexpected kiss, not chaste but not entirely forceful either. Just a tender press of his soft lips to the corner of my mouth. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one hungry for more of a connection.

Peiro drove us down the coast, a winding road with fields and flowers on one side, rocky outlets and sandy beaches on the other. The drive was filled with a quiet tension, nervous sideways glances, and trivial passing comments only occasionally breaking the awkwardness that had suddenly grown between us. After twenty-five minutes, Peiro steered the car into a small parking lot and unpacked the picnic lunch he had prepared. I followed him down a rocky path to the beach below, my gaze hovering on the crystal clear ocean before us, the light from the sun bouncing off the water in a show of shimmering beauty. Italy was, by far, one of the most beautiful places I had ever been, and I had been to many beautiful places. Somehow that beauty I had experienced at another time in my life was shadowed with the darkness of inner chaos and drugs. For the first time in all the years I could remember, I felt at peace, and with that peace, my eyes saw things differently. Colors seemed brighter, sounds seemed crisper, and calm blanketed me with warm, nurturing hands, promising shelter from the things that once hurt me.

With a blanket spread on the sand and the food carefully spread out before us, I sat. The quiet tension had followed us from the car, and as I scrambled for something to say that might relieve the unease, Peiro finally broke the silence.

“I looked you up on the computer last night,” he confessed. I stilled, wondering what awful picture he might have seen or what awful story he might have read in the back pages of some cheesy and scandalous magazine I might have made that night. Cain and I were painfully discreet and reticent when it came to our privacy. We weren’t celebrities, but we were known well enough in the entertainment circuits that an errant picture here or there might end up in a magazine somewhere. “You have an extraordinary voice, Violet; you are amazing.”

I was clumsy with compliments; I always had been. It used to be because I didn’t feel worthy of them, but now it was because I had no practice in dealing with them in the way any normal person might. I stumbled through an awkward thank you and it felt inadequate, but before I could find anything more to say, Peiro spoke again.

“You are an intoxicating woman, Tesoro, and I find myself reluctant to say goodbye to you when you leave in a week. I was thinking…” His words trailed off, his gaze just as distant as he took in the ocean before us. Finally, he turned his attention back to me. “I thought perhaps we could remain in contact. I visit America often for business, we could see each other, perhaps you might come back to Italy again soon.”

I wasn’t sure what Peiro was asking for. A long distance relationship? Casual encounters? Friendship? “Like pen pals?” I asked. Peiro smiled and the action seemed to alleviate the seriousness of whatever he was trying to convey.

“I was thinking of something more, Tesoro.” More, four simple letters, one little word, one big connotation. I wasn’t sure if I wanted more. “We could take it slow, see what happens.” My nod was stiff and hesitant. Peiro sighed and stood up. “Let’s go for a swim,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt. I didn’t move, instead my brain short circuited, and I sat in frozen silence as I watched him push the shirt from his shoulders, revealing a stomach of rippling muscle and tanned, olive skin. As his hands went to the button of his shorts, he glanced at me, a mischievous smile playing on his features. “Are you coming, or are you just going to watch me?” He pushed his shorts over his hips and my breath caught. His legs were long and muscled, his ass…perfect. Dressed in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, Peiro seemed completely oblivious to his almost nudity. I fisted my hands in an effort not to reach out and touch his statuesque perfection. “You coming?” he asked as he turned for the ocean, giving me a completely unobstructed view of his wide shoulders and taut backside. I nervously stood as Peiro dived under the water.

“Screw it,” I murmured a little breathless, pulling the knee length spaghetti strap dress over my head. I was left wearing a cute pink bra and matching boy short panties. Peiro was a gentleman, not turning to watch my approach, and only gave me his attention once I was submerged to my neck. The water was perfect, taking the edge off the heat of the day.

“Beautiful, talented, and brave.” Peiro chuckled.

“You didn’t expect me to follow?” I wondered.

He shook his head. “I hoped,” he offered, before swimming in from the deeper water until he was standing before me. He carefully pushed a few errant blonde strands behind my ear. “I was on the beach that day for a time out. I had fired an employee that had been stealing from the hotel. It is one of the more unpleasant tasks I have had to do, and I needed a few moments to clear my head. Instead of clearing it, I found it consumed with an angel with pale hair, green eyes, and the sexiest red bikini I have ever seen. Or maybe it wasn’t the swimwear I found so appealing. Perhaps it was the beauty that lay beneath it.”

Unable to keep my hands to myself any longer, I brazenly reached a hand behind his neck and pulled him down to my lips. Peiro didn’t object, but he kept his hands by his side. The kiss was gentle, too gentle. The warmth seeping from his flawless skin beckoned me closer.

“If you don’t touch me, I’m going to embarrass myself by climbing your body like a horny teenager,” I whispered. Peiro laughed as his lips sought mine again, and finally, thankfully, he pulled me into his body. My legs wrapped around his waist, bringing my core in line with this manhood, which stirred appropriately beneath his boxer briefs. The kiss grew more urgent as I opened my mouth, and Peiro’s tongue slipped inside, tasting me, urging me on. I rubbed my body shamelessly against his, and the long moan it drew out caused me to smile under his kiss. My body was begging for his hands, his touch, but Peiro kept himself painfully in control. I wanted him to lose that control, I wanted to ignite a flame within him that would consume me with passion. My last encounter with a man, two in fact, had left me scarred with one of the worst moments of my life, and I wanted that memory washed away. I grabbed Peiro’s hand which had been hanging on to one cheek of my ass tightly. I encouraged him to hold my breast, which he did with a hungry growl.

“Tesoro, you will weaken my resolve,” he breathed as he trailed kisses down my neck.

“I don’t want your resolve, Peiro.” My hand dropped between our bodies to rub at the rigid, firm length of him. “I want this, inside me, while your mouth is on my breast.” I was a sexual woman, and while every sexual encounter I had to date was under the influence of drugs or alcohol, I found myself still bold in my sobriety. My words seemed to break Peiro’s control as he wrenched my bra down under my breast and began to lick and gently nip at my nipple. His other hand pushed aside my underwear and his fingers quickly found my entrance, skillfully exploring me while discovering which touches truly set me on fire. I carelessly fumbled with Peiro’s own underwear, freeing the length of him and positioning him at my entrance. Peiro didn’t object or disappoint, but simply thrust deep inside me. A gasp escaped my lips as he pumped into my body, his lips at my sensitive nipples, just as I had asked. His big hands on my ass pulled me against his body, creating a friction that made my skin tingle with awareness, my legs clenching tighter around his waist. My hips rose and fell with his, my hands gripped his shoulders, and with my head thrown back, I came quickly and loudly. Peiro followed close behind, his face nestled into the crook of my shoulder and neck as he did.

The tumultuous sexual experience seemed to settle back into calmer waters and with it came a deafening silence and harsh reality. What had I just done? This vacation was supposed to a time of healing. I was supposed to have quit sexual meetings in public places with strangers, and yet here I was, in public, having just had sex with a man I barely knew. Unprotected sex, sober sex. Suddenly, the need that had wracked my body moments before folded in on itself, and I was left feeling as dirty and tainted as ever. “Shit,” I whispered as I pulled away, forcing the intimate grip on our bodies to release.

Peiro looked up at me with gentle eyes and a lazy smile, but as soon as he saw my face, the smile was gone. “Tesoro?” he whispered.

“Shit, I’m sorry. God, what have I done?” I groaned as I pulled my underwear back into place.

“Violet?” Peiro tried again as I turned and made a hasty retreat from the water. Under mutterings of whorish behavior and casual encounters, I pulled my dress over my body. It clung to my wet skin and the fabric was transparent. Angry and embarrassed, I folded my arms across my chest in an attempt to protect my modesty, which five minutes ago had been forgotten under the violence of lustful need. “Violet!” Peiro demanded. His firm hand gripping my arm got my instant attention. “Settle down, Tesoro.” He raised his hands to my cheeks. He looked frustrated, painfully beautiful, but frustrated. “You are not a whore. Cazzo, don’t say such a thing.” Cazzo,
fuck
, Harry had taught me that one, and in an inappropriate moment, I almost smile as I realized I knew an Italian curse word. Peiro’s thumbs gently pushed away tears I hadn’t even noticed had fallen. “If anyone should be angry with themselves, it is me. I should have had more control, but it seems where you are concerned, I have little.” A small smile lifted one corner of his delectable mouth. “I didn’t even use protection, Mi dispiace. I’m so very sorry, Violet.” The smile was suddenly gone under self-admonishment.

I took a deep breath which hitched with emotion. “No, it’s my fault. I was the one ready to climb your body and mount you like some shameless hussy.” Peiro leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my lips, far too chaste considering what we had just shared.

“You are no hussy, and I am clean. And if you are worried about pregnancy, I will take you to a doctor immediately.” His words were so clinical, I felt awkward and embarrassed. I’m sure I blushed.

“Birth control was something that the doctors at the rehab facility insisted upon, and they also gave me a clean bill of health.” Peiro watched me closely, his gaze curious. Finally he gave a short, swift nod.

“Then whatever is going on in here,” he placed a hand over my heart, “and here,” his fingers moved to tenderly stroke a path across my forehead, “we can work on.” He stepped back and gave me some room which I really needed right now. “Whatever impression I gave you, Tesoro, I am not a man who regularly whisks vacationing women to make love to them in the ocean. I find myself somewhat lacking in restraint where you are concerned.” Peiro gave me a mischievous smile as he pulled his shorts on over his still wet legs. “And I meant what I said, Violet. I am glad I met you and I don’t want this...” He waved his arms about between us. “Whatever this is, I don’t want it to end when you leave.” I still didn’t know what I could offer Peiro outside of this vacation. Friendship, maybe. A relationship, I wasn’t sure.