Italian Knights by Sharon DeVita

tightening of her body. Her full lips parted softly.
    “Sal?” she whispered, her voice soft and raspy as she tried to make some sense of what was happening to her—to him—to them.
    Sal held her in a tender embrace, his large hands gently cradling her face. Annie tried to retreat, but found her legs wouldn’t move. Her heart slammed into her rib cage as she helplessly watched his lips slowly descend toward her.
    Annie opened her mouth to protest. Sal’s lips possessively claimed hers until her breath mingled with his. Reason fled as sensation after sensation stormed through her, awakening her slumbering senses.
    Instinctively she slid her hands up his arms, feeling the taut strength of his muscles. She wrapped her arms around his neck, arching her body toward his, warming to his heat and seeking more. A wordless cry of desire echoed through her mind as Sal slid his hand down to her narrow waist, hauling her unsuspecting body close until she pressed against him from shoulder to knee.
    Sal felt her soft, feminine curves mold gently to his masculine hardness. His mouth worked hers gently, seeking, exploring. A soft whimper escaped her parted lips as Sal’s tongue gently tapped at the seam of her mouth. Shivers of delighted awareness chased each other up and down her spine. His body was like a lightning rod of heat, drawing her close.
    A voice of protest echoed dully in the back of Annie’s foggy brain, but she ignored it. She knew she shouldn’t be kissing Sal—not like this. He was a friend. Just a friend. But Annie knew that somehow, someway, this kiss, the emotions that swept over her, were not the feelings evoked by just a friend. In one split second, Sal had changed from being her best friend, to something much, much more.
    Sal slid his hand from her cheek to caress her neck. He pulled her closer, wanting to melt into her warmth and softness. Annie angled her head, following the movements of Sal’s lips. Desire coiled inside her like a ribbon, causing her body to ache with forgotten need.
    “Salvatore!” Mrs. Altero called from across the street, waving her hand. “There you are. Thank God. I’ve been looking all over for you.” She hurried across the street, her plump body swaying from side to side.
    Sal drew back and groaned softly. Of all the times for Mrs. Altero to chase him down. His eyes met Annie’s and she stared at him in stupefied silence. Her mind was a muddled mess and Annie couldn’t seem to untangle all the thoughts and emotions racing through her.
    “Annie?” he whispered, his voice so reverent it made her legs weak.
    Blinking slowly, she stepped back until her legs were pressed against the black wrought-iron railing of the steps. Her breaths were quick and short, her pulse zipping frantically through her veins.
    Sal looked at her in confusion, just as stunned as she at the impact of their kiss. Sal had dated a lot of women, kissed a lot of women, but none had affected him as much as Annie’s kiss.
    He cocked his head and looked at her, seeing her through new eyes. She was no longer the widow of his partner, or just a good friend. She was a beautiful, desirable woman.
    Annie continued to stare at Sal, confused and perplexed, knowing she wanted nothing more at the moment than to walk back into his arms and feel the warmth and comfort of his embrace—not only as a friend but as a lover. Annie sighed as a wave of guilt and confusion engulfed her. How, she wondered, had this happened?
    “Salvatore! Salvatore!” Mrs. Altero hurried across the street, puffing hard. She placed a hand to her chest and took a deep breath. “Thank God.” Mrs. Altero paused and inhaled deeply again. “We’ve been looking all over for you. And you, too, Annie,” the older woman added.
    “I’m sorry I couldn’t make dinner tonight,” Sal said sheepishly, his eyes never leaving Annie’s. “But Annie and I—”
    “No, no, no, that’s not why I was looking for you.” Mrs. Altero paused to take another