Temptation in Tuxedo

Chapter One

Chapter 1 | Playing with Fire

*****

"Well, this is new," I muttered to myself, gazing around the expansive marble foyer and trying not to gawk. When my best friend Eva had scored an invite to the annual Delfino Foundation gala and needed a plus-one, I'd expected glitz and glamour - but the swirling pillars, crystal chandeliers, and actual artwork lining the walls still caught me off guard.

Me, Marco Bianchi, average Joe extraordinaire, rubbing elbows with the city's elite. I almost laughed aloud at the absurdity.

"Dude, could you try not to embarrass me?" Eva hissed under her breath, though her dazzling smile never wavered. "And don't even think about hitting on anyone. You know the rules."

I held up both hands in mock surrender. "Strictly here for moral support, got it."

In truth, the thought of wading into the sea of glittering socialites made my stomach churn. But Eva had been dying to attend this shindig for ages to schmooze donors for the non-profit she worked for. And best friends for life had to stick together - even if it meant forcing myself into a suffocating tuxedo that probably cost more than my monthly rent.

As we meandered through the crowd, the orchestral music and faux-cheerful laughter hammering my ears, I couldn't help but feel wildly out of place. For each bespoke Italian suit, there was likely a trust fund to match. Meanwhile, I rifled through thrift stores to assemble high-fashion looks on a bargain budget. I probably resembled their high-end waiter more than a fellow guest.

"Smile, Marco," Eva muttered through her teeth. "We're heading straight for Lorenzo Lucio Delfino."

My head snapped up so fast I nearly cricked my neck. As in, the Lorenzo Lucio Delfino - dashing billionaire philanthropist and committed bachelor who graced billboards, magazines, and the wildest dreams of women across the city. And directly ahead, flanked by a gaggle of leggy supermodels, stood the man himself grinning blindingly white as the sea of guests vied for his attention.

My palms inexplicably dampened. Sure, I'd admired the guy's rakish good looks in passing. But seeing Lorenzo Lucio Delfino in the flesh sparked an instinctual flare of attraction so intense it left me lightheaded.

"Oh god," I muttered in dismay. "He's even hotter in person."

Eva's sharp elbow dug between my ribs. "Get it together," she hissed. "This is our one chance to talk to him about donating..."

Her voice faded to a dull buzzing as Lorenzo's dark gaze slid straight to me, as if sensing my stare. Time slowed to a crawl as we locked eyes across the room - and the barest hint of a smirk lifted the corner of his mouth.

My heart stuttered once...twice. Oh, I was in serious trouble. Lorenzo raised his champagne flute in silent toast, those obsidian eyes glinting knowingly, before turning his magnetism on some unassuming socialites.

Somehow, I managed to keep pacing forward on autopilot after Eva. But that brief, electric moment left me reeling even as we inserted ourselves into Lorenzo's elite circle.

Up close, the man was simply magnetic - exuding masculine grace and that intangible allure of old money. Yet as Eva gushed introductions, I found my tongue tied in knots.

"Marco, was it?" Even his voice reverberated rich and smooth. "A pleasure. Any friend of Eva's..."

As he extended a large hand, I hesitated for a split-second too long before accepting it. The graze of his fingers kicked my pulse into overdrive.

Get a grip! I silently berated myself, willing away the traitorous heat flooding my cheeks. Sure, Lorenzo Lucio Delfino was sexy as hell - with his raven waves pomaded back, revealing chiseled features that belonged on a Roman statue. His bespoke tuxedo likely cost as much as my parents' house. But magnetic allure aside, no way would someone like him give me a second glance - especially not with statuesque models in designer gowns fawning nearby, eager to catch his attention.

So why couldn't I tear my eyes from his sharp, brooding profile? The glint of that onyx pinky ring as he lifted his champagne flute, or the rare, throaty laughter that escaped him?

"Marco's an old friend from university," Eva was saying brightly, and I jerked back to reality. "I just had to bring him along so he could see what his graphic design skills are helping fund..."

As she launched into her well-rehearsed donor pitch, I dropped my gaze, fidgeting with my cufflinks self-consciously. Sure, my edgy illustrations helped promote Eva's organization - but I still felt every inch the penniless impostor surrounded by the crème de la crème of the city.

Yet the entire time Eva gushed about fundraising goals and community impact metrics, I could feel the weight of Lorenzo's gaze, prickling hot across my skin. When I dared meet those dark eyes again, their intensity stole my breath. Without a word, Lorenzo tipped back his champagne before turning to murmur something to the willowy blonde beside him.

"Well, Lorenzo, I won't keep you any longer." Eva's voice broke the spell once more. "But please do consider what we discussed..."

"Of course, of course." Lorenzo flashed his high-megawatt grin, though his attention remained anchored on me. "I look forward to further discussions."

My pulse hammered as I peered up at him through my lashes. That honeyed voice seemed laced with suggestion - but before I could process it, Lorenzo lifted my clammy hand to his lips in farewell.

"A pleasure, Marco." His silken lips grazed my knuckles, sending electricity sparking straight to my core. "I get the feeling we'll meet again soon."

All I could manage in response was a mute nod. But as Eva steered me back into the sea of glittering guests, the shape of my name in Lorenzo's sinful purr echoed through my mind on repeat.

Oh yes. I was definitely in serious trouble now.

As Eva steered us to the cocktail lounge after somehow scoring Lorenzo's interest, I struggled to rein in my rioting pulse. Had I imagined that searing moment between us - or the suggestive note in Lorenzo's parting words? Surely a billionaire among celebrities wouldn't spare a second glance for someone like me.

“An entire donation, Marco!” Eva burst out as we sank into a leather booth. “All because you batted your eyelashes at Delfino.”

“I did not bat my eyelashes!” I protested, willing away the heat flooding my cheeks. Still, satisfaction swelled in my chest. My artwork had helped secure that colossal donation for Eva’s cause; I hadn’t felt so purposeful in ages.

As the jazz ensemble's rhythm washed over me, I snagged a fresh flute of champagne from a passing waiter - liquid courage before braving the glitterati again. The bubbly burst cool and crisp on my tongue. Yet even the 24-karat opulence around me seemed to pale in Lorenzo’s intoxicating wake.

What was it about those brooding umber eyes that lit my blood aflame? That raw, inexplicable magnetism lingered long after Lorenzo disappeared into the elite throngs again with his usual entourage in tow. Like a siren song I was helpless to resist.

“Marco!” Eva hissed suddenly. “He’s back - and he’s headed our way!”

I jolted, pulse kicking as I scanned the cocktail lounge. Sure enough, the crowd seemed to part for Lorenzo Delfino as he prowled toward us sans his usual posse, two crystal tumblers glinting amber in his grip. My throat went bone dry.

Eva shot me a piercing look. “I better give you two some space,” she murmured, sliding gracefully from the leather booth before I could blink. Traitor! I wanted to call out, but shock rooting me in place as Lorenzo materialized before me.

“Mind if I join you?” Smooth as velvet, he didn’t wait for my answer before claiming Eva's vacated seat, scalding me with his sudden nearness. He extended a tumbler in offering, the caramel liquid within shimmering in the low light. “You struck me as a whiskey man, Marco.”

My eyes darted down as I accepted the glass, bracing for our fingers to graze - but Lorenzo withdrew without making contact. While likely unintentional, disappointment sunk like a stone in my chest.

“Thanks, but you didn’t have to bring me a drink,” I managed to rasp once finding my voice.

Lorenzo tipped back his own tumbler, gazing at me over the rim through thick lashes. Against the backdrop of crystal and moonlit city skyline behind him, he looked like some debauched prince holding court.

“Consider it a toast.” He edged infinitesimally closer. “To new ventures.”

I quirked a brow. “Like Eva’s non-profit score?”

A secretive smile tilted Lorenzo’s lips, sending my pulse skittering again. “I was thinking of more...intimate new ventures.”

Sudden heat licked up my neck as his husky words sank in. No way was he implying... My tumbler slipped in my sweating grip before I caught myself, splashing amber drops across Lorenzo’s polished shoes.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!” I blurted out hastily, mortification gutting me. Of course I'd make a fool of myself in front of the Lorenzo Delfino! But he merely chuckled, a rich sound that banished all else.

“Don’t worry over it.” The graze of his knuckles dusting my arm jolted straight through me. “I have enough shoes to spare.”

Half-dazed by his electrifying touch, I forced a muttered apology regardless, mopping in vain at the spots dotting his imported Italian leather. Lorenzo stilled my frenetic movements with one broad hand over mine, his lined palm igniting every nerve ending. I froze as we both peered down at our stacked hands, my knuckles burnished gold against his olive complexion. Strange how perfectly they slotted together...

Clearing his throat softly, Lorenzo withdrew, leaving my skin bereft. “Tell me about yourself, Marco. Beyond these illustrations of Eva’s I keep hearing of.” One raven brow quirked playfully. “Any skeletons in that closet I should be aware of before I invest too heavily?”

Despite the heady weight of his attention fixed wholly on me, I barked an incredulous laugh. “Skeletons? Hardly. My life’s pretty ordinary.” I swept a self-deprecating hand down my thrift store tux. “I’m definitely no one special.”

“I disagree.”

A fresh bolt of lightning scored through me at the fervency of those two simple words. Beneath the table, Lorenzo’s Armani-clad knee nudged mine, jolting my focus up to the intensity blazing from his obsidian eyes.

“I think you’re intensely special, Marco.” My birth name shaped sinfully by his tongue sent wholly inappropriate visions swirling through my mind. “In fact, I’d like to get to know more about this mystery man who so thoroughly captured my interest tonight.”

Lorenzo’s muscled thigh pressed heavier along mine and my pulse staccatoed at his impossible implications. Me, capture the interest of the most influential bachelor in the city?

Clearing my throat gruffly, I took a bracing gulp of whiskey, the smooth burn steadying my riotous nerves. “Hate to disappoint, but not much to tell. Just an art school dropout barely scraping by.” I offered a wry half-smile. “Not exactly a life of glitz or intrigue.”

“See, and that’s what fascinates me.” Lorenzo edged nearer still until I swore I could count each obsidian lash ringing his glowing umber irises, full lips curved seductively. “You seem to see beyond all this.” One ringed hand gestured airily to the crystals and champagne sparkling around us. “The smoke and mirrors to what truly matters in this life.”

As the sensual timbre of his voice washed over me, every atom strained closer as if by magnetic force. Beneath Lorenzo’s crisp amber and sandalwood cologne, hints of leather and spice swirled, leaving me lightheaded.

“So what does matter?” I heard myself rasp though scarcely recognizing my own voice.

Lorenzo’s predatory smile flashed, sending primal heat spiking through me. “Connection. Passion.” He wet his full bottom lip, dragging my hungry gaze down. “The rest just...falls away.”

His words thrummed like a heartbeat between us. Surely he couldn’t mean... Lorenzo Delfino, casually propositioning me? Yet the blistering intent etched across those patrician features left no room for doubt about his designs for tonight.

Just then a trill of laughter resounded nearby followed by the unmistakable flash of a camera phone. Reality came crashing back in a deluge of ice. This public venue, surrounded by prying eyes and wagging tongues couldn’t be less suited for a clandestine tryst - no matter how fiercely Lorenzo looked ready to devour me whole.

I released a ragged exhale, shifting back to regain critical space as self-consciousness flooded my desire-addled brain. What was I thinking, imagining the city’s most influential benefactor might want some tawdry fling with an average Joe like myself?

“Is something wrong, tesoro?” The Italian endearment rolled off Lorenzo’s tongue with practiced ease, momentarily short-circuiting my brain. God, even my language sounded sinful sculpted by the molten caress of his voice...

I sucked a harsh breath, grappling for some last shreds of composure. “People will talk,” I managed tightly.

Lorenzo froze for an imperceptible beat, something perilously close to vulnerability flickering across his face - before his expression shuttered like a slammed door. “Is that...not what you want?”

Even seemingly uncertain, that lethal purr set my blood thrumming. Before I could second guess myself, I grasped his bold jawline, revelling at the scrape of day-old stubble against my palm and how his eyes slid half-mast at my touch. Leaning in by fractions, I brushed my lips to the shell of Lorenzo’s ear.

“What I want requires far less clothing,” I murmured raggedly, “and much more privacy.”

A faint shudder wracked Lorenzo’s massive frame. Then suddenly that domineering mask slammed back into place - and a positively feral smirk slashed across his face as he processed my breathless consent.

In one fluid motion, Lorenzo knocked back the remains of his whiskey and surged upright, clasping my elbow in an unbreakable grip. “I know just the place.”

All I managed was a mute nod before Lorenzo steered us back into the crowd churning through the foundation gala. Weaving among Elites and supermodels and heiresses by rote, I focused on just remaining upright, thunderstruck by this sudden whirlwind twist of fate.

Moments later the deafening ballroom faded behind us, Lorenzo guiding me through a dim service corridor I hadn't noticed until we halted before an inconspicuous door. He keyed a rapid sequence into the adjacent security pad and the reinforced slab swung open to reveal...a private elevator?

Before I could fully process the sleek mirrored box awaiting us, Lorenzo manhandled me inside. The cool metal railing pressed into my back as Lorenzo slammed a fist against the topmost penthouse button then dragged me forcibly against him mouth-first.

Any lingering questions vaporized the instant his scalding mouth crashed down on mine. Twin groans punched the air as we clung fiercely to one another - all teeth and tongues and raw urgent need. My fingers plunged through his pomaded strands, fisting ruthlessly to wring another broken sound from his throat as I claimed every plush inch of his mouth like a dying man’s last meal.

The crisp bite of whiskey and bergamot flooded my senses until I was well and truly drunk on the intoxicating taste of him, utterly lost in the demanding cradle of Lorenzo’s mouth slanting fiercely against mine. Some distant compartment of my mind registered his palm squeezing my ass, molding our already painfully hard lengths tighter together in maddening friction.

Just then cool air spilled across our feverish bodies as the lift shuddered to a stop. With herculean effort, Lorenzo wrenched us apart, but not before branding my neck with a lustful bite.

My chest heaved raggedly to rival Lorenzo’s as we stared wildly at one another, his umber irises blazing almost amber with desire now. His lips looked bruised from the scrape of my stubble; I wondered vaguely what other marks I may have already left on his golden complexion as dual Lions seems poised to roar.

Then Lorenzo carded a trembling hand through his wrecked mane. “Come on,” he growled roughly. “Before I take you right here against this damn elevator.”

I barely had the mind left to stumble after Lorenzo as he grasped my wrist, pulling me down an entry hall whose sleek opulence knocked the wind straight out of my lungs all over again.

Soaring ceilings and glittering chandeliers and floor-to-ceiling city views dominated the penthouse suite - but before I could gawk Lorenzo whirled, pinning me roughly to the nearest smooth panel of mahogany. The wood banged bruisingly into my shoulder blades. I couldn’t have cared less - not with Lorenzo’s chiseled body caging mine and his talented mouth fixating below my jaw, wrenching a long groan from my chest.

“Tell me to stop, Marco.” Teeth scraped my fluttering pulse point. “Tell me if you don’t want this...”

“Want you,” I choked out before crushing his gorgeous face back to mine in a warring duel of clashing tongues and nipping teeth. My trembling fingers flew down his torso, ripping apart each button until I bared the carved muscle of Lorenzo’s abdomen with a guttural sound of conquest.

Lorenzo jerked with a wounded noise at the first drag of my nails tracking pink lines down his torso before his large hands captured mine, pinning them ruthlessly overhead. We tore apart just far enough for fiery eyes to clash.

“Demanding little minx.” His lips grazed mine, breathless censure without any venom. Holding my stare, Lorenzo ground his throbbing pelvis against the rigid length of my c**k, wrenching a broken cry from me.

“Please...” My back arched helplessly for more of that delicious pressure but Lorenzo withdrew with a dark chuckle.

“All in good time, il mio bellissimo.” One knuckle trailed down my exposed sternum. “I want to savour every gorgeous inch of you first.”

With that sinful promise sending lust spiking hotter through me, Lorenzo relinquished my imprisoned hands and - in one smooth motion - stripped off his ruined dress shirt followed by the undershirt beneath. I swayed on my feet, utterly transfixed by miles of flawless olive skin and lean muscle presented before me like an obscene Greek feast.

Smooth pectorals gave way to defined abdominals, that tantalizing trail of hair below his navel leading the eye straight to the mouthwatering bulge behind his zipper. I didn’t realize a ragged moan tore from my throat until Lorenzo’s resounding laughter yanked me back.

"See something you want?" He stalked nearer, exuding pure s*x despite the playful quirk tugging his kiss-bruised mouth.

"You," I gritted out fiercely then lunged, mouthing wetly at one dusky flat n****e while palming down his torso to cup the steely length of him through fine Italian wool. Lorenzo choked out an oath, bucking involuntarily into my grip's friction.

I watched in fascination as his lust-heavy lids slid shut, swollen lips parting while I worked him relentlessly through the expensive fabric. God, I needed him naked yesterday...

Clearly sharing the sentiment, Lorenzo grasped my nape, angling me up for a messy clash of warring mouths. With his tongue down my throat, staking bold claim, Lorenzo's nimble fingers practically shredded my bow tie and tackled shirt buttons in ruthless succession.

The expensive cotton paneling hit the marble floor just as Lorenzo ducked, sealing hungry lips around one tight bud. My spine arched sharply in response, grinding our straining erections tighter through maddening layers still separating skin-on-skin.

"f**k, just like that," I babbled senselessly while his wicked tongue flickered, wringing gasps and breathless curses from my slack mouth.

Lorenzo suckled almost brutally until I shook before dragging slick lips lower, tracing each hollow and ridge of my torso with devoted focus. As he lingered at the winged bones spanning my abdomen, Lorenzo slid sultry eyes up to mine almost in challenge.

Never breaking stare, he nuzzled the noticeable bulge behind my tuxedo fly, tonguing at me through the fabric barrier.

"f**k!" I shouted hoarsely just as my knees buckled. Lorenzo caught me easily, smug satisfaction rippling his bare torso before he eased me down to sprawl atop the massive sectional sofa I hadn't noticed occupying his luxe living space.

The buttery leather cradled my heaving body as Lorenzo prowled between my splayed legs with singular intent etched across his striking features. My c**k gave another tortured throb behind my fly.

Deft fingers made quick work of my belt followed by trousers and briefs peeled away in one smooth motion. Cool air kissed my pulsating length just before Lorenzo's searing mouth engulfed me to the hilt without warning.

"Holy s**t!" I shouted raggedly, fighting not to come on the spot. The wet pull of his cheeks felt incredible - scorching and tight as Lorenzo sucked brutally only to pause swirling his wicked tongue beneath the leaking crown. He pinned my thighs under broad palms when they reflexively canted up, wordlessly demanding I melt into the lavish couch instead while he worked me over with raw enthusiasm.

And god yes, give myself over completely to his mercy I did - moaning wantonly as I threaded fingers through Lorenzo's soft locks to guide each glorious plunge along my throbbing c**k. That intense umber gaze never wavered from my face, avidly tracking each hitch of my breath like the keys of a symphony only we could hear over slick sounds punctuating the opulent air.

All too soon pressure knotted at the base of my spine. I tugged Lorenzo's hair in warning, but my incubus lover only hollowed his cheeks further and stroked himself where he knelt between my splayed knees - clearly chasing his own peak while forcing me rapidly toward mine.

"Lorenzo, I - I can't - !" On an arched cry I came violently down his working throat, vision whiting out entirely while my whole body seized almost painfully from the force of my climax.

I resurfaced slowly to the wet sound of Lorenzo fisting his own ruddy length as he watched me limply through his orgasm’s aftermath. Our ragged breaths sawed loud in the opulent suite though Lorenzo remained poised over me - his focus nailed wholly to my sprawled form.

Never breaking stare, I slid a foot up his flexing abdominals. “Come for me,” I rasped, still catching my breath.

On a broken groan Lorenzo obeyed, striping pearly ribbons across my shin and bared torso, satisfaction etching his striking features at the primal marking. As the last quakes of his peak subsided, Lorenzo braced himself on powerful arms above me, strangely uncertain for the first time tonight. Dark fringe clung to his sweat-slick temples.

“Was that...” He swallowed thickly. “Okay?”

A surprised breath huffed my lungs. Lorenzo Lucio Delfino, playboy extraordinaire, seeking validation? Tenderness swelled, tempering the blistering hunger still simmering in my blood. I hooked a palm.