Tempting Tonio (A Steamy Older Man - Younger Woman Romance) (The Adamos Book 1) Read online

  Tempting Tonio

  Mia Madison

  Contents

  1. Lust Trance

  2. Just Don’t

  3. You Don’t Get to Do This

  4. Can’t Handle Me

  5. When Do We Start?

  6. Popsicle Sculptures

  7. From a Distance

  8. More Than Warm

  9. My Time Now

  10. Inside You

  11. Dirty Little Secret

  12. And Not Literally

  13. Drunk-Delusion Antonio

  14. Power Imbalance

  15. Home

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  TEMPTING TONIO

  Copyright 2016 Mia Madison

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental. The sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  1

  Lust Trance

  I'm behind the counter at Revved Café, pouring a refill on a cup of coffee, when the world's sexiest man walks in.

  Antonio Adamo is probably the richest man in the state. More to the point, he's my dad's boss. But even more to the point, he is hot.

  The gods were feeling especially generous the day they made Antonio. Well over six feet of sculpted muscle that even his fancy suit doesn't entirely disguise. Dark, thick hair that he wears just long enough that you can see its wave and itch to run your fingers through it. Broad shoulders, lean waist, strong jaw, an incredibly kissable mouth, and eyes so dark they're almost black. I have written actual poems about the perfection that is Antonio Alessandro Adamo.

  He doesn't even know I exist.

  Sure, we've said hello a few times over the years, at various employee events that Dad brought me and Mom to. But it takes a lot more than that for a man who dates movie stars and other impossibly beautiful women to notice you. Especially when you're an awkward, infatuated teenager.

  Scanning the café, he catches sight of me. His gaze locks on mine and I immediately fall under his spell, staring back at him, my lips slightly parted, my body humming as if it's just been plugged into an electrical outlet. Time stretches out, and it feels as if something momentous is about to happen.

  “What the fuck?” The yelp jerks me back into reality. When I fall into one of my Antonio Lust Trances, my brain stops working. Now I see, horrified, that coffee has overflowed the cup I was refilling and spread all over the counter. The man who was sitting there has scrambled out of his seat and is glaring at me.

  “I am so sorry.” I hastily set the coffeepot down and grab some towels from underneath the counter, dumping them on the pool of hot liquid to keep it from spreading further. “Are you all right?”

  “No, I'm not all right,” he snaps. “There's coffee all over my clothes.” He indicates the leg of his trousers, stained a dark brown.

  Antonio hasn't moved, so I risk a glance in his direction. His lips are twitching, which I do not appreciate because this is so very not funny. Glaring at him, I say, “You can have a seat anywhere. I'll be right with you.”

  He nods, still looking amused, and moves off to an empty booth. It's mid-morning, in the lull between the breakfast and lunch rushes, which is a small mercy. We always have customers, but at least the place isn't packed with people watching me embarrass myself.

  “If you want to have your suit dry cleaned,” I tell Coffee Guy, “Revved will pay for it.” Not that there's any official policy about coffee spills. It's just that the Adamo brothers place a premium on taking good care of their customers. I've been working here for years, since I was in high school, so I know how they think.

  Antonio is not one of the brothers in question, by the way. There are a lot of Adamos in this state. Not enough to fill a stadium at their family reunions, but they could probably book most of a mid-sized hotel with no problem. The owners of Revved (which includes a garage and parts store besides the café) are his twin cousins Rico and Dante, and their younger brother Victor runs the café for them.

  Coffee Guy is no longer giving me the evil eye, and I think I've averted a customer-relations disaster. Then I realize his eyes are not on my face, but rather my breasts. He manages to drag his gaze up to mine again and gives me an oily smile. “How about I pick you up when your shift is over, and you can pay me back personally.”

  Gross. Yes, I have curves, and they do look good in my Revved outfit. All the girls who work at Revved – whether it be in the garage, the parts store, or the café – get waitress-type smock tops in their choice of color. Your name gets added on one side, and on the other is the Revved logo, a sports car silhouette with flames on it. They’re probably the cutest uniform ever and very flattering, but that’s no excuse for sleazy behavior.

  I manage, just barely, not to make a disgusted face at Coffee Guy. If he were nice, he'd be kind of cute. (Nothing compared to Antonio, of course, but then no man is.) Since he's a creep, everything about him is now eww.

  Normally Victor would be here, but he's off on a supply run so I have to handle this myself. Instead of responding to his proposition, I decide to ignore it. He hasn't resumed his seat, and his plate is empty, so I give him a fake polite smile and say, “Are you finished?”

  His gaze goes to his plate, then back to my breasts, then up to my face. “With the food, yeah,” he says, and amps up the sleazy smile. “Not with you.”

  So much for avoidance. My spine straightens, my chin comes up, and my hands go to my hips. “You can pay your bill and leave,” I say, “or I can call Rico and tell him what you said.”

  Coffee Guy sneers at me. “Ooh, you're gonna tell Rico! Who gives a fuck? It's not like he'd believe you. I tell him how bad your service is, you'll be out of a job.”

  Actually, Rico and Dante, and Victor too, are very protective of their “girls” and understand all too well that some guys are creeps. But I don't get the chance to tell him that, because Antonio suddenly appears behind the jerk's left shoulder.

  He must have clocked my body language from across the room. My automatic thrill at seeing him has an extra warm glow from him coming to my rescue – not that I needed it, but it's a nice thing to do. “Is there a problem here?” he says, and I'm momentarily distracted from my asshole customer because Antonio's voice is as sexy as the rest of him, deep and rich and warm.

  Coffee Guy turns around and has to crane his head back to look Antonio in the eye. He is apparently a few tools short of a full kit, or maybe he only notices the fancy suit and not the muscle beneath it. Because instead of backing off, like any sane man would do if Antonio got in his face, he doubles down on the sneer and says, “Fuck off.”

  Antonio goes still. The air around us turns arctic, and I wonder if I'm going to have to call 911 on Coffee Guy's behalf. After a long moment, Antonio lifts his eyes to me, and even though I know he's not
mad at me I get a shiver down my spine.

  “What did he do?” he says softly. Too softly. My sense of imminent peril increases.

  Coffee Guy, on the other hand, has no talent for self-preservation. “I said fuck off. It's none of your business.”

  A muscle tightens in Antonio's jaw, but he ignores the guy and raises an eyebrow at me. I'm embarrassed to say the words out loud, but I don't want Mr. Creep to get away with his behavior. “He propositioned me.”

  I expect him to ask for more details, but he doesn't. “You're done here,” he says to Coffee Guy. “Pay your bill and get out.”

  Not content to escape with his life, Coffee Guy decides to go all in and try for a Darwin Award. “I don't think so. Who the fuck are you, anyway?”

  Antonio's expression doesn't change, but his voice goes from scary to dangerous. “Five seconds.”

  Even that's not enough to get through to Coffee Guy. “I'm calling the police,” he announces. “This is harassment.” He whips out a cell phone; an instant later, it's in Antonio's hand. “Hey!”

  A second after that, the phone has vanished and Antonio is holding the guy's wallet. “What are you doing? Someone call the police!” His voice rises on the final words until he's pretty much yelling at everyone in the café.

  I look around to see that all the other customers are watching us, but nobody's doing anything. Some people look puzzled, others annoyed, but no one's looking worried or reaching for a phone. I guess, unlike the creep, they all know who Antonio Adamo is.

  “He pay yet?” the world's hottest stud asks me, and I shake my head. “How much does he owe you?”

  “Let's see. One deluxe omelet with a side of country potatoes, a large orange juice, oatmeal, and a fruit bowl ….” I leave off the coffee; he can have that for free. I'll cover it out of my tips. I give Antonio the total, including sales tax, and he pulls some bills from the guy's wallet.

  “Stop that! You're robbing me!” Coffee Guy tries to grab his money and wallet, but Antonio holds him off with one hand and hands me the money with the other. Our fingers touch; energy sparks through me, and my nipples go hard. I bite my lip and tuck the money in my pocket, not bothering to count it.

  When I look back at Antonio, he's watching me and his eyes look even darker than usual. I almost go into another Lust Trance, but I'm saved by him directing his gaze back to the guy's wallet.

  “Darrel Crane,” he says; he must be reading his driver's license. He tosses the wallet back, and Crane fumbles and almost drops it but manages to keep ahold of it. Antonio looks him in the eye. “Don't come back here, Darrel Crane. Ever.”

  Crane draws himself up to his full height, which is only a little taller than I am and way shorter than Antonio. “You can't do that.”

  “Can. Did.”

  Crane's face gets red. “This is outrageous! I demand to speak to the management.”

  “Sure,” Antonio says agreeably. He lifts his chin at me. “Call Rico.”

  2

  Just Don’t

  I reach inside the pass-through between the kitchen and the front of the restaurant. There's a phone on the wall there; Rico and Dante set up an internal system so the café and garage and parts store can all talk to each other quickly and easily. Punching the number for the garage, I listen to it ring.

  After a few seconds, a voice says, “Revved garage, you got Jake.”

  “Jake, it's Cait. Is Rico there?”

  “Sure thing, hon. Hold on.” I can hear the clatter of work going on in the background while I wait. Jake is a great big teddy bear of a man who favors boots and jeans and Harley gear. He's worked at Revved for years and is magic with engines.

  “Hey doll, it's Rico. What's up?”

  I've been turned partially away from the men, and now I turn back to them and almost drop the phone. Antonio has a grip on Darrel Crane's shirt and suit jacket. From the look of things, Crane changed his mind and tried to leave while I was calling.

  I raise my eyebrows at Antonio and he gives me a chin lift and holds out his free hand. Fortunately, the phone has a long cord. “Hang on,” I say to Rico. “Antonio wants to talk to you.”

  Walking over, I hand him the receiver. His skin brushes against mine and electricity jolts through me again. I tuck my hand against my body, savoring the tingles, while Antonio says, “Rico. Yeah. Got a guy here who propositioned your waitress.”

  Your waitress. I try without success to ignore the pang in my heart. It's stupid, but I can't help feeling hurt that after all these years of me silently adoring him, Antonio doesn't even know my name. Oh well, at least he's sticking up for me.

  “Darrel Crane,” Antonio says, and Crane starts to look a little sick. “Oh, he does? Yeah. Right.” He hands me the phone. “Rico'll be here in a sec.”

  “Listen ...” Crane starts, and the door opens in the back of the restaurant. It's either Rico, or Victor back from his supply run. Then I hear low voices, and a moment later both of them join us.

  Lucky Darrel. I have to fight a smirk while I allow myself a moment to appreciate more Adamo sexiness. Victor and his older brothers are almost as good looking as Antonio. In fact, I've yet to meet an Adamo man who didn't have a very high hotness quotient.

  Rico is around Antonio's age, 40-something. He's a little bit shorter and even broader, with arms like tree trunks, and his features are a little more roughly hewn than his cousin's. He and Dante look so much alike that people get them mixed up all the time.

  Victor is younger, around 30. He's almost pretty in a totally masculine way, like some movie stars. That leads a lot of people to underestimate his toughness, which is a big mistake. Both he and Rico stand there with arms folded, looking at Darrel like he's a grease stain on their mother's kitchen floor.

  “Darrel Crane?” Rico says.

  “This is all a misunderstanding,” Crane says.

  Rico looks at me. “He come on to you?” I nod. “Sounds like the only thing that's been misunderstood is you not getting how to treat women,” he says to Darrel.

  “She spilled coffee on me!” Crane protests. “Because she was busy gawking at him.” He waves his hand in Antonio's direction.

  My face gets hot and I can't meet any of their eyes. Fortunately, they're all used to women losing their minds when they get around Adamo men and it doesn't faze them. “How does that translate to you hitting on her?” Victor says.

  “Can't a man talk to a pretty woman?” Crane says.

  I roll my eyes. “You wanted me to 'pay you back personally' for spilling some stupid coffee, after I told you we'd reimburse you for cleaning your suit. Then you said you'd get me fired if I told Rico.”

  Three pairs of Adamo eyes get hard. “I've heard enough,” Rico says. “Come pick up your car.”

  Crane perks up. “It's done already?”

  “No,” Rico says, “and it's not gonna be. Darrel Crane, you are hereby blacklisted from Revved.”

  His mouth drops open. “What do you mean, blacklisted?”

  “You need a dictionary?” Rico retorts. “Garage, parts store, café, all of it. Don't show your face around here anymore.”

  Crane's mouth snaps shut and he shoots me a vicious look. “You stupid bitch.” He doesn't say anything else, because the next moment Antonio's hand is around his neck, and he's hanging in midair, kicking his legs and making strangled noises.

  “Tonio,” Rico says quietly. Antonio drops Darrel, but I'm no longer paying attention to what's happening right in front of me. Tonio. Oh my god, that is the sexiest nickname ever.

  I'm immediately lost in a fantasy where Antonio and I are alone and I'm calling him that. My toes are so busy curling that it takes me a few seconds to recognize my own name. Blinking, I come back to the moment and find the Adamo men watching me with funny looks on their faces.

  Crane's disappeared. I clear my throat and say, “Sorry, what?”

  “You okay?” Rico says.

  “Yeah. Fine.” If I keep saying it, maybe they'll believe it. I'm
certainly not going to tell them where my mind went just now.

  The guys exchange glances, and then Rico says, “I gotta get back to work.” Victor heads out to take care of the customers who were neglected while this little drama was going down, and I start clearing Coffee Guy's place setting.

  Instead of going back to his booth, Antonio takes a seat a couple of places down. He doesn't strike me as someone who normally eats at the counter, but who knows. Smoothing down my uniform top, I go over to him.

  “Do you want coffee?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, he's fighting another smile. He looks down at the counter, trying to hide it.

  Oh my god. He is never going to let me live this down. Every time he sees me, the hottest man in the world is not going to notice my looks or my brains or if I'm wearing a cute outfit. No, he's going to remember me staring at him in a lust trance while I pour coffee all over a counter.

  A girl like me, who's not a model or a movie star, never had a chance with Antonio anyway. But if I did have one, this little episode would have killed it forever. It's so unfair that I plant my hands on my hips and glare at him again.

  “What do you want, then? I'm afraid we're all sold out of the ditzy waitress special.” His head comes up, and there's a glint in his eye that I, being on a roll, ignore. “Or should I spill some more coffee for your entertainment? I could swirl it around, make it look artistic.”

  “Babe,” he says quietly. “Calm down.”

  At this, I nearly have an aneurism. I get undeniable tingles, along with a jolt of pure shock, from him calling me babe. At the same time, I'm furious at him telling me to calm down. My hands go up on either side of my head, fingers splayed, like they're trying to keep my skull from exploding with all the contradictory things my brain is processing.

  Anger being what it is, it gets the upper hand. “I do not need to calm down,” I grit out in an undertone. “I'm sorry if my emotions make you uncomfortable but that's your problem, not mine.”