Page 29 of Lying Hearts

Chapter Seventeen

Annie

The night I told Christiano I wanted to leave Italy and go back home to the United States…

It was after a terrible fight. Maybe our worst. “Why don’t you just go be with Sophia! She speaks your language, and I’m sure in more ways than one!” I’d yelled.

He’d held his hands to his head, walking away from me, overcome by frustration. Spinning around, he fumed. “It’s easier to talk to her, bella. But that doesn’t mean I want to talk to her more than you – it just flows! I’m sorry if that upsets you.”

He and Sophia had been at it again during our dinner party, laughing and speaking only in Italian, sitting close to one another where she’d touch his arm too often and lean in too close. It drove me nuts to watch them, and he always called me crazy or too sensitive when I pointed it out. This wasn’t the first time, and I hate it when a guy calls you crazy for listening to your instincts.

“Of course it upsets me! I can barely speak your language and it leaves me out. Which is pretty much what I think she means to do!” I sat on the bed and pulled my legs up against me, hooking my arms around them. I needed a hug more than anything, even if I had to give it to myself. “She wants you, Christiano. It’s so obvious to everyone but you! Diego even pointed it out.”

He yelled at the top of his lungs, fed up. “Diego lies, Annie!” Then as he saw my reaction, he quieted and added, with more control, “He loves to start trouble. He has since we were children.”

A tear fell onto my cheek then, and I said it, the thing I’d been wanting to say for months. “I want to go home.”

He looked at me, his dark, deep brown eyes searching me. “To visit your parents?” I stared at him, knowing from the pained, hopeful look in his eyes that he knew I didn’t mean to visit.

I didn’t meet his eyes as I confessed, “I want to go back to San Francisco.” It was little more than a whisper, but I’d finally said it.

Confusion twisted his face. He walked and kneeled in front of me with his hands on either side of my feet on the bed. “But why? You said you hated it there.”

It was half true. I shook my head. “I loved the city. I just hated me in it.” I searched myself in hopes of finding a way to say this so that he could understand. He’d been so good to me. And while we had our fights, we’d spent four and a half good years together. I’d grown up with him. He’d loved me through the changes and here I was, wanting to leave. I felt like I needed to fly with my own wings. And there was something else, too. Someone else, who had always haunted me. Someone who I could barely admit to myself I wanted to see, much less tell Christiano. I wanted to see Brendan.

“I need to prove something to myself,” I whispered.

Christiano rose and kissed me. “You have nothing to prove to anyone, bella.” I loved it when he called me beautiful, but hearing it then hurt.

“I do. I’m so sorry, but I do.” I knew it was stupid that I wanted to see Brendan, when he didn’t even know I existed. But I couldn’t help it; I had to know if this love I still held was real. The tears flowed freely then and I slid my arms around Christiano’s neck. He lifted me off the bed and we kissed all the way out of the house until we were in the garden behind our home.

He set me down and bade me to look around us, his hands still holding tight around my lower back, hands resting comfortably on my ass, caressing it. “Look at this bella, can you leave this?” I looked around at all the flowers and foliage that surrounded us, the hammock set between two trees, the light of a full moon illuminating the beauty. I shook my head and looked up at him. “Can you leave me?” he asked.

“Oh, you’re making this so difficult! I wish I could explain it in a way that you could understand…” I whispered as he came in for another kiss. His golden-colored fingers pulled up my dress, making my heart quicken. I kissed him back and closed my eyes, allowing him in and wondering if he was right – if I should stay. He touched the soft place of my inner thigh and I trembled under his touch. He slid his fingers under the delicate satin of my panties, traveled into the folds of me and stroked me gently. Melting into each other, we kissed, standing in the middle of our garden.

He bent in front of me and lifted my dress, pulled my panties down and waited for me to step out of them, my hands on his shoulders. He kissed the soft tuft of hair and ran his fingers around the sensitive skin there. Goosebumps spread all over me and I felt the wetness and excitement building in my pussy, aching for his tongue. He leaned in and kissed me once, then looked up, his dark eyes filled with pain. He kissed me again, just the outside, brushing his lips softly around me. He then kissed my belly softly, making the desire build in suspense.

I pushed myself toward him, asking for it. He held out his tongue and waited. I leaned in closer until I was touching it. He waited with it out, not moving, so still. I pushed forward more until I pressed him into my folds. Then he moved, licking me. Soft little licks that teased me and made me even more wet. He moaned as he tasted me. His hands slid up my legs and held onto my ass, pulling me to him, controlling me. I weaved my fingers into his soft hair, opened my legs to give him access, loving every touch of his tongue. Never wanting to leave. Hurting because I knew I had to leave. I had to.

He rose and watched me unbutton his pants, unzip and remove them, sliding them down his beautiful, strong legs. I pulled his shirt over his head and kissed his chest, spending a sweet moment kissing his nipples, running my fingers down his rib cage, over his stomach and down to his cock where I held it firmly in my hands, felt the blood pulsing into it. He pulled off my dress, my long soft hair falling onto my shoulders as the fabric left me to be tossed on the ground. He undid my bra and slowly removed it, releasing my breasts for him to make love to, kissing them tenderly as his hands lifted them to his moist lips. I traced the lines of his shoulders thinking soon I won’t be able to do this anymore.

He picked me up. My legs went around him. With his hand, he helped slide his cock in, so full and hard. Our bodies moved together, pushing in and out and driving us upward to the place we both longed for. His lips found mine again and our tongues touched, sending tingles throughout us. I held onto him tight, riding him in the moonlight, kissing him like it was the last time. He must have felt it, too, because this time was different than any other. It was desperate and pained, pleasure seeming just out of reach for both of us. We strained for it, our bodies reaching for each other, knowing that soon we would be so many miles apart. I could tell by the way he kissed me that he knew he’d lost me. And I kissed him harder to try to tell him how much I really cared.

That night neither of us slept, both of us staring at the ceiling and knowing things would never be the same. I traced the little hairs on his chest and stared into the future, wondering if I was the stupidest girl in the world.

After I got to San Francisco, I called Christiano and told him I’d bought an old bar that had been closed down for a year, thanks to the horrifying recession taking it under. I explained to him that the loan went through and now all I had to do was paint it to renovate, and get a new sign. He didn’t say anything at first. I waited until he finally whispered, “So permanent.”

“No, it’s an investment. Remember what I told you? It’s easy to sell a thriving business for a profit. And I’ll have the experience under my belt and can open up a place in Italy if I come back.”

“When you come back,” he corrected.

We sat in silence, as we did so often when we talked on the phone. “I need to do something on my own. Why can’t you understand that?”

“I let you go, didn’t I?” His voice was tired. “I miss you, bella.”

With a heavy heart, I admitted, “I miss you, too.”

That was six months ago.