Desperado - Part 3

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Part 3

Erin sat down at the computer with her cup of coffee. She had slept until noon and yet she still felt terrible. It was raining out and she had to smile at the irony. How fitting that it suited the mood she was in. It was already after dinner and yet the gray haze of conflicting emotions clung to her like a spider's web. She started checking her email, and as usual she got an IM.

<Evening, Lady.>

<How's it going, Des?>

Erin had to smile at this, her interest piqued. <She turned you down flat for sex, did she?>

Erin typed in a smiley face as a response. She really didn't know what to tell Des, other than what she already had. She wasn't about to tell him about her 3 am encounter with Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome.

<So, have you had a run in with the man next door?>

Erin laughed; once again Des was flirting, using the winky smiley faces.

<Fine. Did you speak with him?>

<You could say that.> Erin wanted to drop the subject. She still felt guilty for what she did. All because she was terrified of what he did to her.

<No, it’s not that.>

<I'm sorry, Des.>

<I'm listening. So why so serious?>

Erin sighed, closing down all the windows but their conversation.

<What… No?>

Erin had to laugh at that one.

<I don't know what I feel for this man, Des. He makes me feel things I haven't felt in a long time. Some things I've never felt. Besides, he's a real ladies man. I put up my guard because I don't want to be another notch in his bedpost.> She purposely left out the fact that Antoine was a gigolo. She really didn’t want to hear what Des would say about that.

Erin thought back to when she was nineteen and young and very naive. Did she have these feelings for Colin? She mulled it over a few moments. The answer was no. <No, Des, not even for my ex husband.>

<True.>

She hesitated for a second, then typed, <Yes.>

Erin laughed out loud at that thought. A date with Antoine? She shook her head amused. How could she explain to Des how hard it was to not assume Antoine was just after sex when he was a gigolo without actually revealing that fact?

Erin sighed. <See what I mean? I'm confused.>

Erin grinned, he had a winky smiley face at the end of the statement.

<Des, if you could see me, a guy like this would never go after a woman like me.>

<I'm not a glamour queen. He probably feels pity for me. All it would be is a mercy fling.>

<Nothing, I suppose. Part of me is flattered, but… the other part is terrified.>

<No, I want a relationship – a partnership. I want to know what makes the man tick. What he thinks and feels. I want to share my life with him and he with me and to know that he feels the same about me. I don't want sex just for physical release… well not all the time.>

<Exactly.>

<Yes, I guess, why?>

< Again, you are assuming, but if it leads to that then let it. Honestly, though, it’s not about that.>

<Fine. Fine. I'll give you my phone number.>

She gave him her cell number and logged off the computer. She sat on the couch and nervously stared at her phone wondering if she hadn’t just made a big mistake. Finally, it rang and even though she’d been expecting it, it still made her jump. "Hello,” she answered breathlessly.

"My lady?" A deep husky voice with a slight accent growled into her ear.

"Y-yes." She could barely talk.

"What are you doing?"

"Talking to you,” she whispered, her palms sweating.

"Obviously,” came the whispered reply, the seductive tone remaining in his voice. "I meant what else are you doing?"

"Sitting on the sofa," she couldn't bring herself to talk above a whisper. Her mouth was so dry she could barely swallow.

"You sound nervous, cara mia. Try and relax, I am not going to bite."

"Des, I am sorry, but I can't do this." She quickly hung up. The phone rang again almost immediately. With a heavy sigh of regret and more guilt than she wanted to deal with, Erin turned off the ringer and headed to bed.

~*~

She woke up Sunday feeling groggy. She hoped after a cup of coffee she would feel better, but even after her second cup, she was still feeling the worse for wear. With a heavy sigh she signed on the computer. Maybe she'd run into Des and apologize about hanging up on him. Seemed lately she was beginning to make a habit of doing stupid things that she regretted later. Checking her email first, she took a moment to send off a few to some friends and then she began to surf. It wasn’t long before she finally got an IM.

<No. That is why you assumed I had called. Honestly, I would have just talked to you.>

Erin chuckled, he used a winking smiley face at the end of the statement. <No, Des, but thanks for offering.>

<I-I- guess.>

<Oh, okay.>

<No, I’m fine. I will be much happier, though once Spring Break rolls around.>

<Haven't seen her either.>

<Aren't we horrible? Sitting here stewing together.>

<Well, my dear Lady, I have to be going. I shall speak with you later. Ciao.>

She signed off, then sat there staring at the computer for a few minutes. She felt a bit better now that she’d cleared the air with Des, but she was still no closer to figuring out what she was going to do about Antoine. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was three in the afternoon and she shook her head sadly. She really was dreading school tomorrow, but even more she was dreading running into her neighbor. Face it Erin, you caused all of this mess, now deal with it!

The rest of the afternoon she spent preparing her lesson plans for the rest of the week. After dinner she finished the final preparations and then slipped on her swimming suit. She needed to swim this evening. The rhythm of it helped to clear her head and think straight. She needed to think straight.

She was just leaving the pool when she ran into him. She felt herself stiffen, not knowing how he was going to react. He smiled at her, but it didn't reach his beautiful brown eyes. They were somber and sad. "Evening, Ms. St. Martin," Antoine greeted her stiffly.

"Evening, Mr. Laconte." Feeling like a heel, she quickly left through the gate and walked to her door.

Antoine watched as she almost ran out of the pool gate. He hung his head and entered his apartment slamming his keys on the table in frustration. He had thought about her constantly the past two days. He knew he was partially to blame for the whole episode on the balcony, but damn it, what was he supposed to do when he had to practically paw at her just to get a reaction? He knew he had to set things right with her, but how? This was sheer and utter torture.

~*~

It was late when Erin signed online. At eleven o'clock, she knew she should be in bed, but her mind would not rest. Suddenly her cell phone rang. She stared at it blankly. Her heart began racing as she realized who it HAD to be. In mid ring she answered breathlessly, "Hello."

"M'Lady," came the sensual whisper in her ear.

"Desperado," she gasped, sitting back down in the computer chair only to find that it had rolled away and she landed on the floor. "UUFTA!" she exclaimed.

"Are you okay, cara mia?" His voice was just above a whisper, filled with concern.

Erin started giggling hysterically. She caught her breath and tried to be just as husky and sensual back. "Sorry, Des, I’m fine. So how may I help you?"

A soft laugh caressed her ear. "How should I take that question, my Lady? Should I believe you are flirting with me; risking it all and are finally going to go on that magnificent ride of pleasure? Or... are you seriously wondering how you may truly help my emotional state?"

Erin smiled softly, still sitting on the floor; Indian style. "Let us deal with your emotional state for once, shall we? Let me guess, your neighbor is still driving you crazy?" She continued whispering, almost as if her normal tone would shatter the magic.

"I really haven't seen her save maybe for a moment."

He sounded sad and it caught her off guard. "Des, I don't have any advice for you. I am sorry."

"Do not worry about me, cara mia. I messed up and somehow I will fix it." For just a moment his voice had lifted from the seductive whisper to a normal, yet quiet tone. Something in the way he said that one word "cara mia" sent alarms going off inside Erin's head, but it just wasn't POSSIBLE! California was a HUGE state, there was no possible way… was there? When there was no response he asked, "M'Lady, are you there?"

"I'm here," Erin murmured. "Just thinking." She was listening intently to his voice now. Listening for anything that would make it familiar.

"What were you thinking?" Came the quiet question.

"Say cara mia, again, Des."

"Ahh, you like that, huh, cara mia?" he said in a normal voice, no longer whispering.

Erin's sat up straight, her heart pounding. She swallowed hard. "Antoine?" she croaked. Wincing at the sound of her voice cracking.

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, then, "Erin?" came the hoarse reply.

For the second time she hung up her phone, throwing it across the room onto the couch as if it contained some contagious disease. She knew he would be over. She didn't need to be a fortune teller to know this. She felt numb… worse, she felt stupid. She knew she needed to get her wits about her before he got there, but to no avail. Instead, she remained seated on the floor.

Sure enough, within seconds there was one loud knock on the door – a loud rap that made her heart leap up in her throat. Erin took several deep breaths and rose to her feet, noting that her legs were shaky and her palms were sweating. She moved to the door, opened it, then went and sat on the computer chair. Antoine just stood in the doorway, not moving, staring at her. Erin rolled her eyes. "Come in, Antoine."

~*~*~*~

Antoine stayed standing in the doorway. They were a good 15 feet apart, but it didn't seem far enough. Maybe it was too far. He stared at her; she sat with her legs crossed, arms crossed in front of her, staring back. It was most definitely an attempt to look closed off and aloof, but it came across more like she was trying to her hold herself together. Of course the fact she had on a pair of black sweat shorts and a deep red tank top did not help. Her hair was in a clip and tendrils came down caressing her face. Antoine wanted to take the clip out and let her hair fall so he could run his hands through it. Instead he asked emotionlessly, "Why?"

"Why what?" Erin asked, bewildered.

"Why should I come in?"

"Obviously we need to talk."

"Do you think so?"

Erin straightened in the chair, placing her hands upon the arm rests. "If you didn't want to talk then why did you come over here?" Her voice started to become colored with emotion.

Antoine watched her for a moment, trying for aloofness. Why indeed… "If you will recall, I did try to talk to you."

"No, you called for phone sex." She was trying to be angry. It was easier to be angry then to admit the truth; that she had fallen for a gigolo.

Antoine came in then and closed the door. He leaned up against it, regarding her coolly, trying not to lose his temper. "You just won’t let that go, will you? No matter how many times I tell you that it wasn’t all about the phone sex.”

“Wasn’t it?” Erin asked as pieces of the puzzle began to come together. She laughed, but it was filled with disgust at herself. “God, I’m so naïve. I trusted Desperado.”

A dark eye brow raised in surprise. “You still can trust him.”

“No,” she shook her head, her hair flying about her face. “No, I can’t, because Desperado is you and you are a gigolo and your interest in me only goes as far as your bedroom.”

“Ah, now the truth comes out.”

“What truth?”

“You seem to have this misconstrued idea that just because I’m a gigolo, you think that I’m some sort of sex machine with no feelings or emotions. That all I could possibly ever want from a woman is sex.”

Erin looked up at him appalled. “I do not!” Antoine simply stared at her, one eyebrow raised. His expression clearly told her that he didn’t believe her. She sighed and dropped her gaze. “Well, all right,” she continued softly. “Perhaps I did a little bit.” She raised her eyes again to meet his directly. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually judge a book by its cover like that.”

Antoine’s expression softened a tiny bit. “It is a common misconception, piccola, but nevertheless a false one. However,” he pushed away from the door and took a step towards her. “We do have a lot to talk about and you need to realize that even though I’m Antoine, the gigolo, I’m still Desperado, your friend. They are one and the same, cara mia and you can trust me just as you trusted Des.”

It was then that Erin realized that Antoine was wearing nothing but a pair of well worn Levi 501 jeans. Sweet merciful God, she thought silently and began to salivate. Broad shoulders, nicely muscled chest and arms, flat stomach, narrow waist. His jeans hung low, hugging his hips and thighs. The only hair that she could see on that perfect, delectable body was that incredibly sexy trail that began just below his belly button and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans.

A low soft chuckle brought her back to the present. “Well, at least I know you are not completely immune to me.”

Erin’s eyes abruptly shot up to his and she turned a deep shade of red. Antoine laughed again, the deep velvety sound of it making her shiver. Suddenly she realized what a very bad idea it was to have him here. “I’ve decided that this is not such a good idea after all, Antoine. Perhaps you should go.”

The smile slowly left his face as he shook his head. “No, cara mia. Not this time. No more running away and hiding. We must talk about this.” He studied her pale tight features a moment and knew that she was fighting an internal battle. She was so tense sitting there in that chair – tense, afraid, confused and probably feeling extremely vulnerable. It made him want to gather her up and hold her close, to sooth away her fears. He also realized how incredibly sexy she looked sitting there and a healthy dose of lust hit him right in the gut.

Suddenly Erin leapt to her feet and took a step back. She’d seen the look of lust in his eyes and he wanted to kick himself. “Merde!” he cursed softly under his breath then breathed in deeply. He raised his hands up, palms out in apology. “Look, Erin,” he began softly. “Let’s get this out in the open first.” He paused a second then plunged forward.

“I want you. I’ve wanted you from practically the moment I first met you. But not as a client, never as a client.” His dark eyes bore into hers, willing her to believe him. “We can discuss this more at a later time. In my opinion, there are other, more important matters we should work through first, but I can’t have you jumping away from me every time I make a move or look at you.

“So, yes, I want you, Erin, but I also respect you and I promise you that I will not lay a hand on you without your consent first. I have no desire to make love to a woman who does not want me in return.”

Erin felt as if she needed to pick her jaw up off the floor, she was so stunned at his admission. He wanted her? Her? Guys like him didn’t go for girls like her. How could he possibly… Stop it, Erin! She silently chided herself harshly. Stop psycho-analyzing everything he says to you, it’s what got you into this trouble in the first place.

Taking a deep breath, Erin nodded. Surprisingly, she did believe him when he said he would not try anything. “All right,” she finally answered and was proud of herself when her voice didn’t crack or waiver. “Perhaps we should sit at the table.”

“That is a good idea,” Antoine agreed and walked over to the kitchen table and sat down.

Erin approached slowly, her eyes riveted to his lean, hard muscled back. “Um,” she paused to lick her dry lips. “Perhaps you should go put a shirt on.”

Antoine turned his head and flashed her a heart stopping devilish grin. “Now, why would I do that?” he teased lightly. “I need to keep reminding you of what you’re missing somehow.”

He winked at her, his grin getting bigger when he saw her blush. “Sit down, cara mia before you trip over your jaw.”

Erin pulled out a chair and nearly fell into it. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither one of them saying a word. Antoine looked comfortable, he was leaning forward with his arms braced on top of the table his large hands laced together before him. Erin, on the other hand felt as if she wanted to crawl into a really large hole and just die.

"Why did you let me call you?” Antoine finally asked. “After six months why did you finally relent and give me your number?"

Erin laughed. It burst out of her without warning and for a brief moment she was afraid she was going to lose it and become hysterical. "Why did I relent?” She snorted suddenly. “Well isn't THAT the 64,000 dollar question? Or is that a million now? Anyway--” She stopped and looked directly at him. "Damned if I know."

"You don't know why you let me call?"

"Are you deaf? I don't know why."

Antoine frowned, his brown eyes darkening with a small flash of anger. He reached out and gently caught her chin with his fingers. “Stop getting defensive with me, cara mia. I am only trying to understand.”

Erin swallowed hard and nodded as he dropped his hand and sat back in his chair. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She could still feel the warmth of his fingers on her chin and she suddenly wished he would touch her again. “Honestly, I’m not sure why I decided to give in this time,” she continued staring at her hands before her. “I guess I had begun to trust Des and felt comfortable with him.”

“But not with me.” It was a statement, not a question.

Erin lifted her gaze to meet his. She could read nothing in his expression; he gave nothing away of how he was feeling or what he was thinking. It was hard for her to admit the truth because she did not want to hurt him, yet she knew she couldn’t lie to him. “No,” she answered softly. “Not with you.”

“Why?” he asked curiously. “Because of my profession?”

She nodded mutely. “Tell me something, piccola. When you leave work each day and go home, do you continue to be the college professor with your friends and family or do you become just Erin?”

He could see the answer in her eyes before she even opened her mouth. He lifted his hand to stop her from speaking. “Then why would you think that I am a gigolo 24/7?”

“Perhaps it was the way you kept coming on to me and dropping all the innuendo’s,” she answered heatedly, her eyes snapping with frustration. “And do not try to turn this all on me and say that I was just assuming or imagining everything.”

Antoine laughed softly, a deep rumbling sound that skittered along her flesh leaving goose bumps in its wake. “Okay, cara mia,” he answered, his eyes twinkling. “I was coming on to you and perhaps a few of my comments were laced with innuendo, but as for my intentions…” he stared quietly at her for a long moment. She really was quite beautiful and it amazed him that she was totally unaware of it. “My intentions were honorable.”

Erin cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow. “Honorable,” she repeated the word as if it were alien to her.

"Yes, honorable and I honestly wouldn't have forced you to have phone sex."

Erin snorted. As much as she wanted to believe him, she was still skeptical. "So you say."

"It's the truth," he flared. “Am I also a liar now?”

Erin stared at him blankly for a moment then straightened up in her chair. "I’m sorry, Antoine, I didn't mean it that way."

“Then in what way did you mean it, Erin? Why are you having such a hard time believing anything I say to you?”

Her cheeks flushed as she dropped her gaze once more. “I don’t know,” she answered softly. “I do believe you, Antoine, but I think a part of me is just afraid to admit it.”

“Because…” he prompted when she remained silent.

Erin shifted uncomfortably in her chair and fidgeted with her fingers. “Because then I would have to admit that it is me with the problem and not you.”

“And what problem would that be, piccola?” he asked quietly.

Erin raised her eyes to look at him. There was no condemnation or accusation in his expression or in his tone. She knew he knew the answer to his question and he was simply trying to get her to admit it to herself. She snorted again, only this time it was directed at herself. “That I’m sex starved?”

Antoine laughed. “Glad to see you can finally admit it.”

"Admit that I'm sex starved? It's kind of hard not to. I basically told Des all the details."

"Yes, that you did."

Erin felt her face warm. She shuffled her feet beneath her chair and played with an imaginary spot on the table. Quietly, almost too soft for anyone to hear she muttered, "I'm sorry for what I said the other night, on the balcony."

Watching her was almost torture. He could tell she was truly sorry and that it had truly bothered her. He could also tell she was still confused and that her feelings for him were more than just casual lust. "Apology accepted."

She looked up suddenly, head tilted, studying him, her expression hopeful. "Really? You’re sure?"

"Yes," he answered with a sigh and leaned forward once more, propping his arms on the table. "Honestly, cara mia, I wasn't trying to relegate you to the rank of client. I apologize if my actions made you feel uncomfortable."

Erin smiled softly. "You confound me, Antoine."

"Confound?"

Erin smirked. "You make me feel and I don't know if that is due to your job or because it’s real."

"You think you are turned on by me because I'm a gigolo?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Erin shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean!" she responded with a giggle.

"There you go again, assuming."

"You're going to make me spell it out for you aren't you?"

"Yes, so everything is out in the open."

Erin rose up from the table and walked to the kitchen. "If we are going to have an honest heart to heart conversation, I need a drink."

Antoine smirked. "I thought we were having a heart to heart conversation.” Erin paused and glanced back at him but didn’t say anything. “Angela keeps the Tequila in the cupboard next to the fridge."

Erin blinked, closed the wine cabinet doors then turned completely around to gape at him. "How'd you know that?"

"I'm over here enough to know where the margarita ingredients are."

"So you're pretty good friends with them?" she asked as she grabbed the bottle of Jose Quearvo and two shot glasses. She then set it down on the kitchen table and poured the gold liquid into each shot glass before sitting.

Antoine rose up, flipped his chair around and straddled it, as if he meant business now before replying, "We're neighbors, of course we're friends."

"I've lived in California long enough to know that not all neighbors are friends."

"Well, Angela and Darren are unique."

"You aren't going to tell me that you've… well, you've… I mean, they've used your services!" Erin said in disbelief, her face flushing crimson.

Antoine laughed heartily, the sound of it bringing a shy smile to Erin’s face. "Angela is my lawyer, piccola. She gave me her card when I first moved in and since then we've become friends." He smiled wickedly. "Of course I don't divulge my clients to anyone."

Clearly embarrassed, Erin shook her head. "I know they haven't. I mean Angela wouldn't!"

"You are correct, cara mia, they haven’t, but either way I don't do threesomes with married couples."

Erin took her shot glass then and said, "Ready?"

"You assume much."

"Look, I don't like to drink alone. One shot of Tequila won't kill you." Then she looked at him with concern, "You do drink?"

"Yes, cara mia, on occasion."

"I didn't want to force you-- well I don't think anyone could force you to do something you don’t want to do, but anyway…"

He held up his hand with a soft laugh. "Cara mia, just drink."

They each took the shot. "Now, tell me exactly what you meant by your gigolo comment."

Erin dropped her gaze, watching as he filled her shot glass with yet more tequila. "Let me take this shot first and then I'll explain."

"Alcohol for courage, piccola?"

"Something like that," she murmured as she downed yet another shot. She watched Antoine do the same. "What I meant by my comment was... do you treat me the way you do and press my buttons because you ARE a gigolo?" She poured yet another shot as she waited for his reply.

Antoine took the third shot and turned his glass over. He leaned further onto the table; mere inches from where her hand played with her shot glass. "I honestly do not treat you like my clients, Erin. As I said before, my intentions with you were – are – honorable."

"Yeah right!" She poured another shot, she was starting to feel tingly all over. She then downed it and turned her glass over as well.

Antoine refused to get angry this time. He hated being called a liar, but he knew Erin had some issues she needed to work out before she could trust him as she had trusted Desperado. He needed to exercise some patience. "Honestly. If you had been a client I would have immediately found your likes and dislikes, taken cash and we'd have got down to business."

"You make it sound so cold, so unemotional." She commented as she sat back in her chair, regarding him.

"It's business."

"Yet you try and tell me you're different! This just proves it!"

"I never said that my clients remained detached."

"Yes, but it's just..."

Antoine reached across the distance between them and placed his fingers underneath her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I would not be that way with you, cara mia."

Erin felt like she had been electrocuted. She couldn't move, all she could do was gaze into his coffee colored eyes. Oh how she loved coffee in the morning. Oh God, woman! What has come over you?! She screamed to herself. Those beautiful eyes weren't laughing at her, they were serious with a hint of something. Something utterly feral and it turned her on. She swallowed hard. "You're still implying it would be just physical, no matter how much we both may want it."

Antoine brushed her full bottom lip with his thumb, smiling as she licked the spot where he had just touched. "It wouldn't be just physical, cara mia," he whispered, his gaze focused on her lips.

Erin quickly stood up and walked over to the sink, placing their shot glasses in it. She needed to get some space between them before she did something really stupid. "Ange tells me you are going to be a personal trainer?" Just as soon as it left her lips she gasped quietly. Open mouth and insert foot, you fool! She exclaimed to herself.

Antoine moved into the kitchen and put the Tequila away. "I'm a topic of conversation between you and Angela hmm?"

"You could say that, I suppose," she answered vaguely.

He moved over to the sink and stood in front of Erin. "What else has she told you?"

"I know about the whips."

"Whips hmm?"

Erin knew he was silently laughing at her, the way his eyes twinkled. "I also know about the broken bed."

Antoine laughed heartily again and Erin found herself sighing softly at the carefree sound. "The mattress broke, cara mia, not the bed."

"How do you break a mattress?"

"Well, when the springs start coming through you have a broken mattress."

"Oh, well, anyways…” she was suddenly having problems breathing and her face with flushed with excitement she didn’t want to feel. He was leaning against the counter, his thigh brushing hers. His hand right behind her on the narrow space between the sink and the counter; yet not touching her. "I thought we were going to have a heart to heart," she said a bit breathlessly.

"Then talk to me, Erin."

"There can't be anything between us," she blurted out suddenly.

Antoine smirked and then seductively unbuttoned the first button on his jeans. Erin quickly reached out and put her hands upon his. Antoine looked at her, surprised.

Erin realized what he was about to do and KNEW she had to stop him and quickly, so she put her hands over his so he wouldn't unbutton anything else. Then she realized exactly where her hands were and she quickly removed them. "I"m sorry, I mean…" She folded her arms once again. "I meant, we're going to have to be friends, Antoine. I can't date a man who sleeps with other women."

"So you would consider dating me?” he asked curiously.

“Not if you remain in your current profession,” Erin answered firmly and was quite proud of herself because what she really wanted to do was jump him.

How about an ex-gigolo?" he asked then.

"Yes," she whispered, her heart pounding.

"Good! It might please you to know then that my last client is Thursday morning."

"It really is really none of my business, Antoine."

"It is if you're going to date me,” he answered softly.

"Uh, Antoine… I mean, I just found out you were Des and now we are speaking of dating and well…" She trailed off and began fiddling with her fingernails.

"Cara mia,” he leaned forward and whispered into her ear. "Open up to your feelings for me. I swear to you that I will not hurt you."

Erin turned red at the thought. "I can't, Des… I mean Antoine."

"You were going to open up to Des, otherwise you would not have given out your number."

"Maybe… I don't know."

"May I make an observation?"

"Yes."

"Just be honest."

"That's embarrassing!"

"I won't laugh, I promise."

Erin couldn't meet his gaze. "I let Des call because I wanted someone to talk too, to hear someone else’s voice. To feel like… oh I don't know."

"Less alone?" he offered softly.

"Maybe." Then a thought hit her and she looked up at him. "So why did you like talking to me online so much?"

"You made me laugh."

"My sexual frustration made you laugh?" she asked suddenly annoyed.

"No, the fact you laughed about it made me laugh. You always made comments off hand about yourself. Some of them a bit too deprecating. But when you told me about the time that you tried twisting your car round the pillar in the parking garage that was hysterical."

Erin laughed at the memory. "Needless to say, I no longer own that car!"

"Or what about the time that you tripped in front of the college professor you had the crush on that worked in the business college?"

"He turned out to be gay!"

"See."

"I forgot I told you those things."

"I know you had a fight with your ex boyfriend. I know about the chair of your department hitting on you. I know a LOT about you, cara mia. In turn you also know about me."

"Not much, Antoine. You were as closed mouth on the computer as you are in person." She smirked. "But then again, I know there was this royal bitch that was next door…"

"Ahh, cara mia, I am sorry about that. I meant no disgrace. I was mad at myself and at you as well."

"Why were you mad at yourself?"

"Because I was doing anything I could to just get a reaction out of you. Unfortunately, I crossed the bounds of decency with a respectable woman such as yourself."

"Look, Gomez, I wasn't making your life easy. I just didn't know what to do with you. I still don't know what to do with you!"

He leaned in. "Kiss me," he murmured mere inches from her lips.

Erin saw him descend towards her mouth. She wanted this, Lord KNEW she wanted this, but she couldn't. Instead she moved and kissed his cheek bone instead. His mouth landed at the base of her jaw. It was still enough of a contact to make her sigh. She softly whispered against his hair, "Je reve de toi."

He pulled back to look into her eyes. "I know," he answered with a self satisfied grin.

"Oh God, I forgot you understood, French!"

"I understand a lot more than that, cara mia." He moved away with that. "The hour grows late, I must be going."

"Going? Antoine, you can't go. I mean well, not like this."

He stopped in mid stride and turned, giving her a curious look. "Like what?"

"I just opened my heart to you and you haven't said two words."

"I have said more than two words, piccola and you know it."

"I mean…" Her mind raced for an answer. She felt if he walked out that door that the magic would be gone.

Antoine retraced his steps to her. He held out his wrist where his watch flashed 2 am. "Erin, it’s late and you have an early start tomorrow. It is two in the morning. Unless you are asking me stay the night, I think I ought to be going."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Why would you think that?"

"You just seemed… well, kind of brusque is all."

He held her by the shoulders. "Erin, you did nothing wrong. All is well between us. But honestly, if I stay a moment more I will not be responsible for my actions."

"Your actions?"

"You have no idea do you?"

"Idea?"

"Ahh cara mia," he muttered as he shook his head. He pulled her close and whispered in her ear exactly what he would love to do to her if she would let him and IF he had the time; all in Italian.

Erin was blushing crimson by the time he let go. She could only make out certain phrases because they were similar to the French she knew. Phrases with teeth and tongue and leg and heart in them. She could just imagine what he had told her in explicit detail, and that imagining left her heart racing. She found herself looking at him in wonder, with mouth agape. "And that, my beautiful Erin, is why I must take my leave. But know, that this is by know means, good bye."

Sweeping up her hand, he turned it over and pressed his lips to the center of her palm, his eyes never leaving hers. Then with a wink, he turned and walked out the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Desperado – Part 4