10. ENZO
10
ENZO
“Let me just set this up right here.” Quinn fixes her phone on the tripod by the pond.
“Anything I should prepare myself for?”
Quinn has set up a selection of wines carefully on a table in front of us.
I observe her as she works, noticing the way her face changes as she focuses on getting everything just right. She is clearly in her element, and I understand how this is a passion for her, as her excitement rubs off on me too.
“Just be yourself.” She smiles. “You’ll do great.”
“No tips from Miss Influencer herself?”
“You don’t need them. As far I can tell, you have a great camera presence as is.”
She slides down next to me and presses the button to go live.
“Guys, I have an amazing guest for you here today. Mr. Enzo Marchetti, the owner of Valentina Vineyard himself. I thought we could have a conversation for you guys here and try some of his product live.”
She has such a bubbly way she is conducting herself that it is hard to ignore.
“Hey, everyone.” I wave into the camera. This is all new to me, but she does a great job at not making me feel out of place.
“The man himself.” Quinn grins. “My audience is itching to know all about your story. You have to take us back to the beginning—what drove to this profession?”
I hesitate for a moment. Usually, I’d have no trouble bringing up Valentina, my wife. But given what had happened between Quinn and me…
“I fell in love with it with a passion. It’s been a singular obsession for me for many years now.”
“Oh, I can see that. The proof is the product. We need to sample some for our audience,” Quinn pours some wine into the glasses for both of us.
We clink our glasses together and take a sip, and she hums.
“Absolutely delicious. I wish you guys could taste this right now.”
With the way she’s acting, you’d think that this is the most divine thing she’s ever tried, and I realize how good this could be for our brand.
“Oh, we have some questions coming in already.” She smiles. “Clark from Ohio wants to know where he can get this in America.”
“We have a few exclusive contracts that are about to expire, so we’ll be expanding to a few select retail stores very soon. When we do, you’ll be the first to know.”
Conversation flows easily.
Interviews were never really my forte, but Quinn makes it effortless. At one point, a lock of her hair falls down in front of her face, and I make to reach out to tuck it away before I realize we still have an audience.
Something about being around her just makes me forget everything else—work, my troubles, anything that wears me down.
She has an incredible lightness to her that rubs off on everything around her.
“So, tell me, Mr. Marchetti…”
My eyes dive into hers.
Her eyes are on mine, and she is silent for a second.
“Yes?” I never tear my gaze from hers. I could lose myself in there. In her.
“Um, I don’t remember what my next question was.”
A laugh escapes my lips, and I wink at her before I remember we are still live.
She flushes and focuses her attention on the questions coming in.
“Apparently, the audience doesn’t want us to end this live.” She bites down on her lip, “You’ve been a real hit, Mr. Marchetti.”
“All the more reason to do this again.” I smile.
As the live shuts off, I watch her as she sits back, taking a sip out of her wine. The sun is almost setting now, and she looks so gorgeous underneath its fading glow that I can’t help but reach out and gently caress her face.
“Thank you for doing this,” she says.
“I don’t think I can say no to you.”
Perhaps it’s the adrenaline of a great session, or the intoxication of simply being around her but I lean forward and touch my lips to hers.
Quinn responds instantly. Her delicate hands trace up my sides and pull me into her.
Her kisses are soft, and I realize that anyone can see us like this.
And what shocks me the most is that I don’t care. It’s like nothing else matters in this moment but the two of us.
When she pulls back, I wrap my arm around her shoulders, keeping her close to me.
“What’s on the agenda for the day?” I murmur against her hair, which smells sweet, like her.
“Mmm, I think we’re supposed to have another wine tasting event.”
“Skip it.”
She turns to look at me, surprised. I haven’t thought it through yet, but all I know is that I want to spend more time with her.
Alone.
“I own a cottage near here,” I start, making up plans as I go. “It’s nice, quaint. You’ll like it. I want you to go there with me.”
She hesitates for a moment, and I think she is going to refuse. And I get it, she came here to work, not to spend time with an older man.
“Okay.”
I can't hold my surprised smile in. “Let me make some arrangements, and we’ll leave straight away.”
It’s been years since I’ve done anything like this. She brings out a spontaneity that I thought I’d long lost.
She’s making me feel young again, and I can’t get enough of it.
When we arrive at the cottage, it’s a bit awkward at first. She lingers in the doorway, and I’m beginning to wonder if inviting her here was the right move.
Surely, it’s past obvious that I’m more than interested. But does she feel the same way, or was she fine with this being just a one-night thing?
I push my thoughts out of my head.
“Nice place you have here.” She looks around the place.
“Thank you. You know that your endorsement is the only thing I’m after.”
Well, it’s not the only thing.
Now that we are alone, my gaze drifts over her, taking in her face, the curvature of her neck, her collarbone, and my eyes land on her plump chest.
I clear my throat and look away.
I was raised a gentleman.
“Well, you’ve definitely won it over.”
“Great. Now, I hope you’re hungry.” I walk over to the open kitchen and open the fridge, which is fully stocked. “Because I’m cooking for you.”
“Wow.” She grins, leaning against the archway. “Chef Marchetti. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“You’ll have to stick around a bit longer and find that out for yourself.”
She joins me by the counter, helping me out with the pasta I’m trying to boil.
Even though there’s no denying my attraction toward her, I don’t want her to assume that I only want her for her body. I want to win her over, slowly, even though she doesn’t act like she expects anything from me.
And I’m still not sure exactly what I want from her, but I do know I want more. That one night was not enough, and every second spent with her pulls me in more.
I move over to dice the tomatoes for the sauce and feel her gaze on me the whole time.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just that you look… really hot when you do that.”
“Dicing tomatoes?” A laugh escapes through my throat. “So, that was the secret all along?”
“Mhmm.” She comes over and runs her hands down my bicep. “I think it’s sexy when a man knows how to cook for himself.”
“I was under the impression that was the norm.”
“You’d be wrong. I think you’re the first one I’ve met who doesn’t just throw a frozen pizza in the oven and call it a day.”
I set my knife aside and turn toward her, trapping her between the counter and myself. “Well, it’s time to meet a real man.”
Our eyes lock, and the mood suddenly changes.
I’d been hoping to at least make it past dinner to get to this point.
“You know…” she breathes in a low, husky voice without breaking eye contact. “I’ve decided I’m not that hungry for pasta just yet.”
“You’re not?”
She shakes her head, a mischievous smile playing out on the corners of her lips. “Nope. I want to skip to dessert.”
That’s all it takes.
My mouth is on hers again. This time, our kisses are more passionate, there’s a desperation to them as though we can’t get enough of each other.
She opens her mouth to say something when we break apart, but I shut her up by lifting her off her feet and carrying her over to the bedroom.
As much as I want to take her right there on the counter, I want us on a bed.
“Tell me, Quinn,” I whisper in her ear as I set her down beside the bed. “What do you want?”
She bites on her lip. “I…” she breathes out as my fingers begin to fumble with the straps of her dress, slowly pushing them to the side. “I want… you.”
“Be more specific.” I smile, enjoying the way she completely submitted herself to me. “Tell me what it is that you want. Spell it out for me.”
She tries to distract me by leaving kisses down my neck, and it works momentarily, but I want to be the one who’s in charge of this moment.
I pin her hands behind her back, urging her to look me in the eyes.
She looks so fucking sexy with her lipstick smudged and dress half-way removed.
“What do you want?”
My tone has taken on a dominant stride, and she seems to be loving every bit of it.
“I want you to…” She pauses, biting on that damn lip again. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Good girl.”
I don’t waste another second before I push her down to the bed, yanking off the remainder of her clothes.
She leans her head back, moaning out as my tongue begins to swirl around her already hard nipples.
Frantic hands begin unbuckling the front of my pants, and she slides them down alongside my boxers.
My cock springs out.
Quinn gulps, taking in the sight, her eyes wide as they darken, and her mouth open slightly.
Fuck. I want to slide my cock in between those perfect little lips.
“Do you like what you see?”
She nods, as if in a daze. “I want to taste it.”
My breath hitches in my throat as Quinn falls down to her knees, and slowly begins to stroke me first with her hands, using her spit to make sure it’s all smooth.
“Kiss the head.”
I don’t mean to be so bossy, but I cannot resist when she’s on her knees like that for me. She brings out a primal instinct inside of me.
Her tongue swirls over my head, flicking off the pre-cum that has accumulated at the top of it, before she takes my entire length inside her delicate little mouth.
Fuck.
My eyes roll back as the feeling of her warm, wet mouth overwhelms my senses. Her technique is perfect, and she takes me all the way to the back of her throat.
Does this woman have no gag reflex at all?
“God, Quinn,” I groan as she moves her head up and down my shaft.
She looks up at me then with her big, blue eyes, fitting me all in her mouth.
I know in that moment that the sight will forever be burned in my memory.
“If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last much longer.” I push her off me and position her on the bed.
I need to feel her.
She moans as I enter her for the first time that night, and her fingers pull at my hair, bringing me closer.
“You feel so fucking good.”
My thrusts get harder, and her moans get louder.
Nothing feels better than this.