DANTE

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" I growled, ripping the T-shirt from her hands.

"Back to the other room. It's pretty clear you're not interested."

I huffed out an incredulous laugh. Was she for real? Couldn't she see my massive erection under the towel? Didn't she see the fire in my eyes, and how it blazed only for her?

"What? You're joking, right?"

She shook her head. 

"Come on. You must be blind."

She shrugged, petulant. 

I hadn't been able to indulge in her body in over a week and I was practically blind with lust. The woman was impossible and yet I couldn't get enough of her. Not when I woke alone, wishing she was near, not when I climbed into my race car and not when she was next to me, torturing me with her beachy-sugary scent.

And now her beautiful, naked self was tantalizingly close after a long week apart and all I wanted was to taste her, fuck her and claim her. All night.

"You teased me all day with those green eyes, then tortured me all night in the club when you rubbed your hot little body against mine. Now you take off your clothes and offer yourself to me in my bed? No, cara, you're not going anywhere. You'll stay here for as long as I want, and do what I want."

She gasped as I allowed the towel to drop and flung her shirt to the floor. "Does this look like I'm not interested?" I caged her with my arms and legs, rubbing my nearly painful erection on the smooth skin of her stomach.

"I guess it does look like you're very interested," she whispered. "And so hard."

"You're damned right. Have you ever seen me this hard?"

She looked down at my dick, bit her lip, and shook her head. A flush crept across the tops of her cheekbones.

Nudging her legs apart, I grabbed the base of my cock and guided it to her pussy. I used the tip to caress her clit. Slow, just as she loved. 

"Dante...come on, please," she let out a whimpering cry. God, I loved when she begged like that.

"You're very swollen down there, tesoro. That usually means you're quite turned on. Are you?"

Another little mewl escaped her lips, and my dick grew harder. I kept rubbing her with the tip, because I knew it would bring her to the edge. It took enormous willpower not to slide myself into her without a condom. Someday, I'd find out how it felt to be inside of her with no barriers.

"Make me come," she demanded.

"My greedy little girl. I guess I will give you what you want."

I'd learned so much about her body during our week together in Amalfi. How she became ticklish when I trailed my tongue up her inner thigh, how she loved it when I stroked her pussy lips with a light touch and how she could orgasm if I circled my tongue just so on her clit.

Dio, what I'd learned was burned into my mind. I might never forget until the day I die.

I didn't want to forget.

"Does this feel like I'm not interested? Would I touch you like this if I wasn't interested?" My fingers took over where my cock had been. "Your pussy feels so soft. So good."

She whimpered again in response.

"Hands on the headboard, Savannah mia. And don't move." The bed had rattan slats and she reached back and clasped.

Starting with her neck, I kissed languidly down her body, pausing to admire her beautiful breasts, cupping them together and licking one nipple, then another, while I fingered her. Jesus, she was wet, wetter than usual. I nibbled my way down her belly. I slipped my fingers from between her legs and shoved them in her mouth. 

"So fucking beautiful," I rasped, then continued kissing my way down her body.

When I reached her pussy, she squirmed and bucked her hips. "Please make me come."

"I told you not to move." I circled her thighs with my arms so she was immobilized. Sliding my tongue into her wetness, she cried out after only a few licks. I felt her quake and grinned against her skin.

"I love when you have an orgasm on my tongue. Taste yourself again. Taste how perfect you are."

I moved up her body and assaulted her mouth with mine, groaning as she sucked on my tongue. Breaking away, I fumbled for the condoms on the nightstand. It didn't take long to sheath myself or find my way inside her.

"Not interested," I rasped as I thrust into her, hot and hard. "This is me being not interested."

Her half-lidded eyes flew open and she shot me a devilish grin.

"Kiss me again. Please, I want to feel your mouth and your tong—"

"Shh. I'm not going to last long tonight because I'm tired and because you feel so...fucking...tight...and...amazing. And I need to show you how I'm not interested. See? You do this to me, Savannah. This is all your doing."

I groaned hard against her lips and exploded, my orgasm wiping my mind of all thought. The day's stress from the race, the pent-up desire for Savannah, everything melted away as I came. I practically blacked out from exhaustion, dehydration and lust. Perhaps I fell asleep for a little bit. When I came to, in Savannah's arms, that's when it hit me.

Never before had sex seemed so honest. So erotic. So natural.

Savannah was different.

Not interested was the opposite of what I felt for her. A man who wasn't interested wouldn't cling to a woman's body like this in the moments after sex, as if she were a life preserver in a storm.

A man who wasn't interested wouldn't care if she slept in his bed all night, curled up next to him.

And a man who wasn't interested wouldn't worry about how to keep her around after the racing season ended. 

There were six races left, which meant I had about six weeks to make Savannah Jenkins fall in love with me.

____