My Italian Doctor

Chapter Eighteen

As we headed down towards Verona, I noticed that he kept looking over at me. I concentrated on the surroundings, but only half-heartedly. Each time he looked over at me, he had the look of a hungry young tiger. It sent shivers through every inch of my being. I laid my hand on his thigh, but I hadn't even realised I was doing it until I felt the spark of electricity flow through me.

"We need to make a pit spot. My current outfit is no more suitable than your bathing suit."

"Back to yours then?" I brightened instantly. I was desperate to know where he lived. To know what his place was like. Someone's place said so much about who they were and what was important to them. I couldn't wait to see it.

"No, er, I live too far out. It would take too long. I'll just pick something up in town." My hopes were dashed once again. It felt like he was hiding something all the time. Out of nowhere, he was squirming in his seat and avoiding looking at me. I could feel my temper rising. I didn't deserve to be kept in the dark.

"Is there a particular reason why your place is top secret?"

"It isn't."

"So, you won't mind taking me there now instead of going out for drinks?" I already knew what the answer would be, but I was intrigued to know what his excuse would be. Being anywhere with him no longer felt like a good idea.

"If we go to mine, it will waste the whole night. It's not like my place is anything special, it's a shoe box. I don't ever stop anywhere decent because I'm never there for long before I head out somewhere new. You know this, I told you I wasn't going to be in Italy for long."

"You're hiding something. I don't know what it is, but it's something."

"You're the one that said you weren't here long and didn't need my life story. That doesn't mean I'm hiding anything. I'm just not going into every detail of my life like you asked."

"Stop the car!" If he wasn't going to be truthful with me, I had no interest in staying anywhere near him. Walking back to the vineyard in heels would be better than sitting next to him, knowing he was being manipulative. I couldn't believe he was trying to suggest it was my idea that he was hiding things. I might have told him not to share every element of his life, but that wasn't the same thing. Whatever he was hiding, I knew it was something big, something that I should know.

I searched my brain trying to think what on earth it could be, but I was coming up blank. When I had first met him, I had considered that going out and about with a total stranger wasn't exactly safe. Maybe I had been right. He could be a serial killer for all I knew. I had considered for a while that he might be married, but I dismissed the idea.

He had no ring and, more importantly, no ring mark. He spent nights out with me often, with no one ringing to check where he was. His phone barely rang unless it was work calling. We had walked around Verona without a care in the world. That wasn't the way a married man would behave. Part of me wondered if I was being paranoid, just another ridiculous woman. Maybe I was seeing things that weren't even there. I just needed to get out and leave it all well enough alone.

He pulled over in the opening of a small dirt track. It was starting to get dark, and I wasn't looking forward to the walk back. I didn't wait for any more excuses. I opened the door and went to get out. "Wait, please." I had little choice but to listen with his hand holding my wrist more firmly than I would like.

"What am I waiting for? You to think up more excuses." He pulled me back towards him hard and I landed against his chest with the gear stick digging into my thigh. I had no choice but to look into those dark brown pools of deliciousness. Before I had a chance to even consider pulling away from him, he changed his grip to my upper arms. The roughness in his touch I knew well from his alter ego, but somehow it felt different.

He just sat there staring right at me, as though he was trying to communicate some kind of deeper truth to me. Whatever it was, I wasn't receiving anything from him but more suspicion. "My life is complicated."

"What's so complicated about it?"

"I have a daughter, Amiee. She's eight, and her mother and I aren't together. She's at my place now with the nanny. That's why I don't take you back to mine." I didn't have a clue what to even say to him. I just sat there blinking at the speed of light like a moron. Of all the things I had considered, a child was nowhere on the list. I had so many questions.

"Where's her mother?"

"Sharon can be rather flighty. Amiee lives with me full time but spends weekends with her mom when she's in town." He looked ashamed, as though somehow his ex's issues were his fault.

"Why wouldn't you just tell me?"

"I don't know. I haven't done this before. I don't exactly have the time or inclination for dating. You're the first person I've been out with in over five years."

"How is that even possible? Are you telling me you've not been on a single date or had a single hook-up in five years?"

"That's what I'm telling you, yes. I would rather you not be quite so outraged by the idea. I'm not a freak. Life's busy, it's hard enough juggling work and Amiee as it is without anything else. I've barely had any form of social life in the last five years."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's just ... surprising." It was outright outrageous. There was zero indication that he had been celibate for the last five years. He definitely didn't perform like he was out of practice, but it did explain why he was so eager to rip my clothes off on a regular basis. I didn't even know what I was meant to say or how I was meant to behave. He might have well told me he was an alien. I might have been less shocked if he had.

I was suddenly very aware that I was still plastered against his wet chest. I carried on with my assault of questions, "So, you and her mum..." I didn't even know how to form the question. I wanted to know what sort of relationship they had.

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"Well, I do." With no warning, he pulled me further into him until I was squeezed tight between him and the steering wheel. His lips dominated mine in a way they had never done before. I knew he was trying to shut me up. It was like at that moment he let loose five years' worth of desperation. The speed and force of his kiss heated up the whole car. I could feel the heat rising up and consuming us both.

Everything seemed to be turbocharged and happening at the speed of light. He eased the driver's seat backwards and turned me simultaneously with ease. It was as though each time we were together, he let his guard down a little more and became more like his true self. "Keep your hands on the steering wheel."

I did as I was told. I always did where he was concerned. He pulled my dress up until it was resting on my hips and he lifted me up until my forehead was practically pressed against the cold windscreen. I pulled on the steering wheel to hold myself in place as he massaged my bum. The time he took over it made it feel all the more intense. As though he was inspecting every last millimetre of my round peachy ass.

I flinched a little as he nibbled at my behind, more out of shock than pain. He did it again and again. The more he did it, the more it felt nothing but exhilarating. I felt his fingers graze at my hips as he slipped my underwear down and let it fall down to my ankles. I could feel the moist fabric slide all the way down to my calves. With his legs already in between mine, he made easy work of spreading them further apart.

I had expected him to do it once my opening had been unleashed to him. What I didn't expect was for him to slam me backwards hard onto his c**k. "Oh, f**k! George."

Out of nowhere, he just stopped, holding me firmly in place. "You were told to keep your hands on the steering wheel." I hadn't even realised that I had shifted them, but I had. They were laid on my thighs, squeezing into my flesh. I moved them instantly back to the position he wanted them in.

"Maybe next time you should tie me up, then I won't be able to move them." I hadn't really even meant for the words to leave my internal monologue. Regardless, I heard his breathing increase, his fingers dug in more in response, and his c**k seemed to fill me even more than before.

I couldn't help but wonder if his ex had seen that side of him. If he had allowed his dark side to come out to play with her. I hoped not. I hoped it was something that only I knew about. The idea of him tying me up and doing whatever he pleased with me was the biggest turn-on I had experienced in my life. I had never even considered it before him, but with him, it was all I could think about.

The thought wouldn't leave me as he f****d me in his car at the side of the road. I didn't concern myself with the public nature or the fact that we were blocking the entrance to someone's property. My only concern was if I was the only person who knew the real him. If it was a secret that only we shared.

Neither of us were in a fit state to be going for drinks, and we just stayed there. I laid across his knee with my head resting on his shoulder, too spent to move. I felt like I was going to drift off when he spoke casually, as though his words were the most natural thing in the world, "you should stay here. Stay with me in Italy and never leave my side."