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Fred-or-George and The Tuscan Beauty by
Chapter 2 : Chapter 2
Rating: Mature|| ||Chapter Reviews: 5|
It was almost ten at night, the sky was getting dark. He was sitting on the large, arched veranda, nibbling on olives and gazing at the flowers the villa was awash with.
Then he stood up and walked down to the garden, he stopped at an ancient fountain. A girl of marble was holding a jug on her shoulder and poured water into the small pond around.
’This is fountain. No lake,’ he heard the English words with Italian accent. He spun and saw the beautiful girl from the kitchen of the villa. Her long hair shimmered in the moonlight.
I know,’ he said in surprise and his eyes swept over the pretty body of the brunette. She was wearing a strapless tight-fitted black mini dress, making his imagination going wild.
She looked around nervously, grabbed his hand and pulled him behind the small chapel.
Her closeness and the magical fragrance of her perfume intoxicated him.
’You and I… Forbid,’ she whispered.
’Forbidden?’ He corrected her, gazing at her wet lips.
’Yes. Forbidden. You guest. I work in villa. This is forbidden.’
’Forbidden to talk?’
’Talk?’ She was surprised. ’You want talk?’
She was so close that only a breadth of air separated their skin from grazing one another.
’Well, I guess…We can do something more exciting than talk…’ He gulped, his eyes lingering on her lips.
She didn’t say anything but he could see lust gleaming in her eyes.
He couldn’t resist. Chemistry worked too well.
Their lips crashed on each other and they melted into a warm and tight embrace for a passionate, fiery, never-ending kiss.
She buried her hands into his red hair pulling him even closer if that was possible to deepen the kiss. He started to lose control and was about to lower her to the soft grass when she pulled away.
’Let’s go upstairs, to my room,’ she panted.
’It was the worst night of my life,’ George said devastated when they sat down to have breakfast.
’It was the best night of my life,’ Fred was in heavens. Hu put a croissant on his plate.
’The girl I was waiting for all night at the lake, never came,’ George continued.
’An Italian fairy threw herself at me at the fountain and we made love all night long,’ Fred emphasized the last three words, rather satisfied with himself. ’Here she comes.’
The beauty from the kitchen appeared in a pretty white apron to serve breakfast for the guests at the tables.
But Fred’s smile faded when he noticed his brother’s shocked expression.
’I can’t believe it, you stole my girlfriend,’ George accused Fred, anger made his voice sound hysterical.
’I didn’t know she was your girlfriend,’ Fred tried to apologise. ’She just… She simply walked over to me, she was so kind and… seductive… sexy…’
’You think you are so drop-dead gorgeous that pretty Italian girls throw themselves at you immediately?’ George hissed angrily, the girl was heading towards them with a tray in her hands.
’I’m just as drop-dead gorgeous as you, don’t forget, please,’ Fred tried to stay calm though his good mood had been replaced by some sense of guilt.
’I had spent almost the whole day with her. Talking and…’
’Talking. Sure,’ Fred sneered. ’She hardly speaks English.’
’I was teaching her English, she was teaching me Italian.’ George explained slowly as if he had been talking to a two-year old child.
’Good,’ Fred nodded. ’Then we won’t need that heavy Italian dictionary any more. You knew how to make yourself useful.’
’Fred, how can you be so… so immature?’ George was really upset.
’Okay, okay, I’m sorry. The next time I get a girlfriend, I’ll offer her for you,’ Fred frowned.
George rolled his eyes but couldn’t respond as the girl put the tray down on their table letting the guys have an excellent view of her nice cleavage.
’Milk, coffee or hot chocolate?’ She asked with an enchanting smile.
’Tea. With milk.’ George replied in a grumpy voice.
’You come from Britain, don’t you?’ She inquired kindly.
’I told you yesterday,’ George said with hurt pride.
’She doesn’t speak English well,’ Fred reminded George and kicked him under the table.
’I speak English much better than my twin sister, Lucia. You could meet her yesterday. My name’s Chiara.’ She said while pouring tea in the cups.
The two boys were gaping and staring at her in shock.
’My name’s Fred,’ Fred said finally, flashing a charming smile.
’And mine’s George,’ The other redhead pulled himself together, too.
The brothers grinned at her happily.
After all, they could look forward to a pleasant vacation in Tuscany.
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Fred-or-George and The Tuscan Beauty: Chapter 2