Our moves were sloppy and slow, the water resisting the dance, but still we moved and laughed and splashed around as the band of women played on. The singer elevated her voice, winking at me as Theo twirled me past, and I let my head fall back in a full fit of laughter as the moment settled in on me.
I was dancing with Theo Whitman.
I was dancing with Theo Whitman in a fountain in Italy on the most magical night of my life.
It was too good to be true, too beautiful to be real, and yet it was. My heart pumped blood faster, as if to whisper to me yes, this is life, this is what it’s all about. Every inch of my body was alive with nerves, as if I’d never felt water before, or a warm hand on my hip, or a breezy summer night, or the eyes of a man who wanted me.
Everything was new. Everything was grand. Everything was in its place, like all the stars in the universe had aligned themselves for this very moment.
Theo spun me around twice, and I lost my footing, slipping and nearly tumbling out of the fountain before Theo caught me in his steady arms. He made the dip dramatic, as if we’d planned it, and I laughed so hard tears pricked the corners of my eyes.
But when the laughter faded and I looked up into those soul-searing eyes, the music faded, and the lights dimmed, and everything that existed seemed to evaporate like steam into the night air.
Theo lowered his lips to mine, the kiss tender and punishing in tandem. It sent chills cascading over the skin of my neck, down my spine, all the way to my toes. I gripped his arms tight where they held me, and when his tongue danced with mine, I couldn’t help the little moan that escaped the back of my throat.
“Theo…” I begged, and it was all I needed to say. No demand or desire that I could give words to would have compared to the power of just breathing his name.
Theo fished his wallet out of his pocket, leaving a generous tip for the band before he swooped me into his arms effortlessly, carrying me out of the fountain with his eyes cast down on me. They seemed to transport me through time and space, because everything around us blacked out like the beginning of a dream until the moment he sat my feet down on the plush carpet in his suite.
I didn’t know how we’d gotten back, couldn’t remember walking the streets or riding in the tender back to the boat. All I knew was that it didn’t matter now, and I dropped the heels I didn’t realize I’d been carrying in my fingertips, the sound of them hitting the floor like the gun shot that kicked off a high-stakes race.
Theo met me in a crash of limbs and moans, our hands seeking, roaming, gripping and clawing. He met every desperate touch of mine with one even more anguished of his own. It was like finally being together killed us as much as it brought us both to life, like we were breathing our last sip of air and our first gulp all at once.
Theo bruised my lips with his, slipping his fingertips under the straps of my dress and gently pulling them over each shoulder. My naked breasts flowered under his eyes, nipples hardening, goosebumps pebbling every centimeter of my skin. He palmed me first, feeling the weight of each breast in his hand before he groaned and bent to lower his mouth to my left peak.
I gasped at the sensation of his hot mouth covering the cool skin, my back arching of its own accord as I chased the feeling. My hands tangled in his hair, destroying the gel that held each strand perfectly in place.
I wanted him messy. I wanted him to unravel just like me.
“If you only knew,” Theo breathed against my chest, sucking my nipple hard between his teeth before letting it go with a pop. “The things I have done to you in my dreams.”
“Show me,” I begged, tugging back on his hair until his mouth was turned up toward mine. I kissed him hard, sealing the plea.
Theo groaned, gripping my waist so hard I winced as he backed me up to his bookshelf. We slammed into it hard enough to steal my breath and knock a few books and knick knacks to the floor, but Theo stayed on course, shoving my arms up over my head and locking my wrists together with one hand.
“You have been the source of my madness for months now,” he husked, dragging his tongue along my arched neck as his free hand trailed down my body. The only thing holding the bottom of my dress to me now was the elastic at my waist, and Theo slipped his fingertips under it, easily dragging it down until it pooled at my feet. “And I’ll be the source of yours tonight.”
I whimpered, chills racing down my spine again just from his promise. Now that the dress was gone, nothing but a scrap of lace shielded me from his view — but not for long. Theo kept me pinned as he ripped my panties down to my knees, then he backed up just enough to take in the scenery.
“Fuck me, Aspen,” he breathed, the hand that held my wrists gripping even tighter. I hissed in a breath, but Theo was too busy raking his eyes over every inch of me to let up. “You’re a masterpiece.”
His eyes met mine, and he moved in again, his
