I had been working in Italy for two weeks and was due to head back to the States as soon as we wrapped up negotiations. I’d been so consumed by work I’d barely set foot in beautiful Rome, so I decided that Saturday night, no matter how tired I was, I was going out to sample one of the nearby restaurants. 

I had an extravagant meal with two glasses of Chianti, and by the time I was contemplating dessert, a line of clubgoers was forming along the wall across the courtyard. I smiled fondly, remembering my own party days from college.

As I was about to turn back to the menu, I caught sight of the hottest woman I’d ever laid eyes on.

In a pair of leather pants so tight they might as well have been painted on, and a sequined halter top that made it clear she wasn’t wearing a bra, the dark-haired stunner made her way quickly past the line and greeted the bouncer familiarly, kissing him on both cheeks. When a number of men in line catcalled her, she turned to snap something at them playfully and caught my eye.

For just a second, her dark eyes bored into mine and sent a lightning bolt straight to my dick. But before I could get my fill, she’d disappeared into the shadowy doorway.

I’d had just enough wine to think I was 22 again, so once I’d finished dessert, I walked straight over to the bouncer and into the darkness of the club.

I’d barely made it three steps into the massive main room before I spotted the woman I’d been ogling outside. In a cage that was elevated above the dance floor, she gyrated and twisted to the sensuous beat of the music. I couldn’t stop staring, but I wasn’t the only one. I instantly felt like a creep, so I made my way to the bar.

I had to work to catch a bartender’s attention. Once I had my drink in hand, I let myself glance back at the cage only to find it empty. The woman had vanished into the crowded club.

Suddenly, someone crashed into me from behind, making me spill my drink. I turned to see what’d happened and found the very woman I’d been searching for getting cornered by a couple of drunk guys.

Without thinking about it, I took her by the shoulders and put her between the bar and me. The guys looked like they wanted to say something, but I shrugged and said, “She’s with me.” I didn’t know if they spoke English or not, but they took my meaning and left.

I tried to step back and give the woman some room, but it was so crowded there was nowhere to go. She turned in my arms, body brushing against mine, and said,“Grazie.”

I nodded. “I’m Logan.”

“Gabriella.” She pointed to herself and said something else, but all I could do was shake my head and tell her I didn’t speak Italian.

She nodded significantly to my now empty drink.“Mi dispiace.”

I shrugged it off and ordered another. When I nodded to her in invitation, she rattled something off to the bartender who reappeared with two cocktails in hand. We clinked our glasses together and smiled at how universally understood that gesture was.

We drank without talking, only smiling when we met each other’s eyes, but she eventually leaned in to say something into my ear. I had no fucking clue what it was, but if she could do that to an “r” with her tongue, what the hell else could she do with it?

I smiled sheepishly and held my hands up to show Gabriella I didn’t understand, so she took my drink and set it down on the bar, pointing out to the dance floor. I followed her through the crowd, groaning when she stopped and pulled my hips against her luscious ass. It should’ve been illegal to move like that in those pants.

From the glances she was throwing over her shoulder, she knew exactly what she was doing to me and liked that it was making me hard. She slid a hand between us and gripped my dick through my pants, grinding her body up and down against mine.

By the third song, we were kissing and thrusting against each other, writhing in the sweaty mass of people. I inched my fingertips into the waistband of her pants and she pressed harder against me, grabbing my forearm to encourage me to go lower.

I’d rationally known there couldn’t possibly be anything under those pants, but knowing it and actually feeling it as my fingers brushed the slick heat of her bare pussy were two different things.

I could barely get the first knuckle of

two fingers inside her, but she melted against me as I tried to work them deeper.

I slid my other hand across her rib cage and under her halter top, cupping her full breast and rolling a taut nipple between

my fingertips. I was about to come in my pants like a schoolboy.

Gabriella kissed me hard and yelled something into my ear over the music. I’d never wanted to speak another language so bad in my life.

I looked at her helplessly and shook my head. Was she telling me to stop? That she had to go? That she knew of a dark corner we could fuck in?

She tried again, but I still had no idea what she was saying. A smirk tugged at her lips as she grabbed my cock, gestured between us, and pointed in the direction of a side door. Message received loud and clear.

I followed her through two doors into the shocking quiet of some kind of storeroom. My ears were still humming from the noise in the club, but it didn’t matter since we couldn’t understand each other anyway.

She grabbed my crotch and backed me into the wall, seizing complete control.

When she undid my pants and pulled out my dick, she murmured something in her husky voice. She took it in her mouth and I groaned, watching as her eyes lit up. She sucked me deep and hard, sliding her hand in rhythm with her mouth.

I eventually pulled away, and I knew she was protesting even though I couldn’t understand what she was saying. But I needed to fumble through my wallet for the emergency condom.

When I pulled it out, her eyes lit up again and she uttered a string of sexy-sounding Italian words, peeling her pants off.

I held it up and asked, “Is this okay?”

Gabriella snatched the condom from me, pushed me across the room to a table, and put it on me herself.

I lay back on the table and she climbed on top, straddling me unselfconsciously with her soaking wet pussy. She sank down onto my cock with one deep thrust of her hips. It felt so good I didn’t think I’d be able to understand her even if she had been speaking English.

She rode me hard, and when I reached up to stroke her clit at the same time, she pushed my hand away, intent on finishing herself off on my cock instead.

Moments later, Gabriella kissed me as she came, uttering breathless Italian words against my mouth. The feel of her tight pussy squeezing and the animalistic sounds she made pushed me over the edge, too. I came so violently my vision blurred, and I could only lie there and pant with her draped across my chest doing

the same.

I’d somehow fucked the most gorgeous woman in Italy without being able to speak a word of her language. The attraction between us had been something deep and primitive. Words would only have gotten in the way.