Fierce & Fabulous: Volume Two
The thunder grumbled its displeasure at the tourists scurrying for shelter in the cobbled streets below. From the rooftop bar I watched the lightning dance among the charcoal clouds. Any minute now, I thought, there’s going to be an almighty storm. Sure enough, large raindrops began to splat onto the terrace and I, too, sought shelter, underneath the awning of the bar.
It was the first shower since I had arrived in Rome a few days before, and a welcome relief from the oppressive city heat. My feet ached from navigating the uneven city streets and my mind was overwhelmed with absorbing the culture and history of this most magnificent of European cities. I needed a break to recover and to recharge my batteries.
I took a leisurely sip of my cocktail and realised that the barman was staring at me. Not surprising, I suppose, since I was his sole customer. When he looked away, I studied him. I guess he was late twenties, perhaps. Certainly, he was no older. His face wore a deep tan, in keeping with the climate of the region and his unmistakeable nose gave him away as a local boy.
I found myself thinking it was rather sad that his starched white shirt was covered in a waistcoat and the bow tie at his neck gave no indication of what kind of shape he was in. He was clean-shaven though, and there was a touch of something elegant about his stature which made me think he was a fine advertisement for the local talent.
“You are here alone, yes?”
Damn! He must have known I was looking at him.
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His eyes met my shocked stare and he looked me up and down, lingering more than I felt was polite around my cleavage area.
“I am, yes.”
I dropped my eyelashes almost without realising I was probably signalling my attraction. Ah, well, this is my holiday, I thought. What the hell!
“That is shame. You are beautiful lady. You have husband at home, no?”
“Not any more, no.”
I was smiling at him now, egging him on. How far was this going to go, I wondered.
“Oh, that is sad.” The frown seemed genuine for a moment. “But maybe is better for me, no?”
He chuckled and grabbed a cloth, wiping over the bar surface to try and look busy. I was incensed. The bloody arrogance of the man! Inside my chest, my heart was thumping, but outside, I was blushing. I felt annoyed at myself for flirting.
This was supposed to be a weekend of soaking up Roman culture past and present, and admiring the splendour of Vatican City. I hadn’t expected any flirting opportunities. Sometimes, though, Fate has her way of writing Life’s plot lines in her own sweet way. I decided to go with the flow.
An elderly couple came into the bar and looked out at the storm raging all around us. The barman took their order. Tiberio his name badge read. I struggled to think of the English equivalent so gave up and continued sipping my drink. He directed them to the furthest corner of the bar, I noticed.
I watched his fingers move with confidence over the coffee machine controls, allowing myself to wonder if he would be able to push my buttons in a similar manner. As if he could read my thoughts, he looked up and caught me staring again.
“You like to watch me, yes?”
This time his voice was gruff and much lower. I had the feeling he could command anything of me if he so wished, and I would be powerless to resist. He disappeared with a tray of coffees and an arrangement of sweet biscuits, leaving me to come to my senses.
The storm raged on. A particularly loud crack of thunder made me jump and the resulting flash of lightning lit up the whole sky in a vague purple hue. Adrenalin pumped through my veins with a purpose. I love Mother Nature’s passionate outbursts. I wonder if She realises how much they arouse me?
My mind continued to fantasise about the charismatic Tiberio. There must be dozens of attractive women staying at this hotel every week. I bet he flirted with every single one. Still, the attention was nice. My exploits had been few and far between of late due to work commitments. I revelled in the idea of something more spontaneous, however unlikely; large, skilful hands stroking between my legs, pulling aside my knickers and groping inside. My stomach lurched as an ache of desire filled me. My eyes closed and I let out a deep sigh. In my mind’s eye, I saw Tiberio’s lips closing on mine, and then moving down my neck, his breath hot on my exposed flesh.
“You are dreaming, Madame?”
I jumped for the second time that afternoon and closed my mouth.
“I, err… I was just thinking about something…”
The heat from my blush seeped across every inch of my skin. Tiberio looked around to see the elderly couple shuffle off towards the elevator, then leaned in closer.
“Maybe you dream of me, yes?”
My eyebrows creased and I blushed again, somewhat angry this time.
I crossed my legs, feeling uncomfortable in my skin all of a sudden. It was as though he knew what I was thinking. It still aroused me though, and I could feel heat from between my legs.
A small liqueur glass appeared in front of me, an unmistakeable yellow concoction trickling into it.
“Apologies if I was rude. For you.”
I forgave him instantly.
I adore Limoncello. It’s refreshing and not sickly sweet, but deceptively alcoholic. I drank the measure in a single gulp and licked my lips, smiling at my new best friend. An outrageous idea had just come to me.
“I was wondering if you could help me find the best way to the Coliseum from here.” My map unfolded over just about the whole bar area.
“Oh, we need another drink for this.” Tiberio grabbed another glass and filled them both to the brim.
“Salute!” he cried and we both emptied the glasses. “Ok then, let me see.”
He pulled up a bar stool right next to me and I shivered. There was a storm raging inside of me now, as well as all around us.
“Ok, darling, so we are here now,” he said, pointing to the hotel with one finger and deliberately placing his other hand on my thigh. The bass drum thumping in my heart grew louder. I gazed down at it and he squeezed. When I looked back up at him, his eyes pierced any thin veil of defences I had left.
Submitted By: @KittyMulholland
About the Author
Kitty Mulholland has been an avid reader of books all her life. She was introduced to erotica some years
ago when she got quite lost in a bookshop in her home town. Several hours later she emerged with a bagful
of books, a very much lighter purse and a guilty expression on her face. From that moment on, she was
hooked. So much so that she decided to try her hand at writing her own.
Her stories are a mixture of real experiences with a bit of fantasy thrown in for literary effect. Where
necessary, names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.
Kitty lives in rural Warwickshire with a beautiful but spoiled black and white cat called Lily who is her
Her books are available from Amazon.