Matteo

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  I feel my face jerk into a cocky expression. “Of course you do.”

  “Stop it,” she giggles, flicking her wrist at me. My laughter melds with hers and it sounds beautiful.

  “In all seriousness, though, we’re in a hotel right now. We can make this happen, Ellie. Now.”

  Fear, intrigue and excitement all flash across her features in rapid succession.

  “C’mon,” I coax her slightly, putting my hand on hers, fully aware that once she feels my touch, she’ll have no choice but to concede.

  She pauses for a beat. She bites down on her bottom lip. “Okay…”

  I motion for the waiter to get his ass over to our table and swipe my damn credit card. The second he’s gone, I rise from my seat and round the table to help Ellie to her feet. My hand finds its way to the small of her back as I guide her to the exit of the restaurant and into the lobby of the hotel.

  We move swiftly towards the reservation desk to book a room. Please god – don’t let this woman change her mind.

  The clerk is on the phone confirming the reservation of the person on the other end. I’m tempted to yank the phone out of her ear and slam it down so she can attend to Ellie and me.

  I pinch at the side of Ellie’s hips. She looks up at me and grins, the apprehension slowly melting from her expression.

  And then, she looks just past my shoulder and her face drops. She takes a quick step back from me and almost stumbles over her heels.

  Puzzled, I glance over my shoulder and see Domenic and Madison enter the lobby of the hotel. My pulse quickens just a bit. Shit – I forgot that this is the hotel where their wedding reception will take place.

  My sister hasn’t seen us. She has her phone cradled between her cheek and her shoulder, her dark hair falling into her face as she scribbles feverishly on what appears to be a napkin. Domenic, however, is headed in our direction, eyes volleying from Ellie to me and back again.

  “Ms. Parker,” he says pleasantly addressing Ellie. “Lovely to see you.”

  “Hello,” she says coyly, taking another step behind my back and I can tell from the look on her face that she wishes she could just disappear.

  He turns to me. “Matt – what are you doing here?”

  Before I can utter a word, Ellie zooms by me. “I should leave,” she mutters softly, her cheeks crimson red.

  “Ellie…” I reach out to her but she strides steadily towards the exit without so much as a glance back.

  Domenic watches her till she disappears out the door. Then, he turns back to me. “Look, man – I don’t want to make any assumptions –“

  “Then, don’t.” My tone is clipped and harsh. I feel my nostrils flare and my fists ball up by my side. The idea of anyone challenging whatever it is I have going on with Ellie infuriates me, even if that someone is my well-meaning future brother-in-law.

  He presses on. ”Matt – you know the firm’s policy. Employees sleeping with clients is a no-no. Michael would lose his shit if he saw you here with her. Maddie –” he tips his chin in the direction of my sister who is now sitting in a plush chair still talking on the phone. “She would freak if she knew.”

  But trying to gauge my siblings’ reactions to my choice of sexual partners is the last thing on my mind right now. I know that pursuing Ellie may cause trouble but she’s already proven that she’s worth it.

  I need to find Ellie. I need to talk to her.

  Chapter 20

  I squirm uncomfortably in my seat, my damp underwear cold against my skin. I make a mental note to keep a pair of spare panties in my bottom drawer at the office as of tomorrow.

  Ugh – Matteo Moretti has ruined me.

  I’m embarrassed. I can’t let go of the look that Domenic Gattusso had on his face when he saw me with Matteo at the hotel’s reservation desk.

  I’m humiliated…But still, I want him. This man has awoken desire that’s been dormant inside of me for my whole life. Now, I’m bubbling, steaming and ready to blow.

  I press my thighs together to silence the hungry thrumming there. I take a sharp breath and straighten my shoulders.

  It’s just sex. Of course. Nothing more.

  But I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop wanting it.

  I’m losing my shit. I really am. Who’d of thought that some good – make that, fantastic – sex could make a girl completely lose her mind.

  I know that Matteo is a complete manwhore. I would never allow myself to fall in love with him. But I want to fuck him. Again and again and again. It’s what my body keeps telling me to do. Please god – don’t let me turn into some strung-out sex fiend salivating at the mouth for another taste of him. I promised myself that I wouldn’t become just another notch in that man’s belt but since he fucked me, I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.

  Just then, my phone rings, rudely yanking me back to the present.

  It’s Matteo.

  I consider ignoring it, but I want to hear his voice. I crave it.

  “Hello,” I say, trying to keep my tone neutral.

  “I want to come over to your place tonight,” he states boldly.

  I laugh and it comes out all throaty. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  I can’t tell him that it’s because I’m starting to become afraid that if we have sex again, I’ll start to fall for him. So, I stall looking for an excuse that he’ll buy. “My place is tiny. You’ve seen it. Between the Atlanta-sized chip on my shoulder and your equally enormous ego, there’s hardly enough space there for anything else.”

  He spits out a laugh. “Cute.”

  I sigh. “Matteo, we both know that what we’re doing is inappropriate.” I’m trying to reason with him. And with myself if I’m completely honest.

  “Ellie – I’m coming to your house. I’ll see you at 9:30.” And then, he hangs up the phone, leaving me alone with my unvoiced protests.

  I tingle all over, anticipating his touch.

  What the hell am I doing? Good god – I run a tabloid blog dedicated to unearthing the secrets of New York’s socialites, and here I am letting one of them screwing my fucking brains out.

  I comb my fingers through my hair, tugging lightly on the pink ends.

  Ugh!

  Stupid, stupid, stupid girl.

  This thing is starting to get out of control. If I’m real with myself, I’ll admit that I’m already beginning to feel feelings for him budding in the deepest part of me. I have to gain control of the situation.

  I decide to be proactive. “Hey,” I call out to the intern walking past my office, large coffee cup in one hand and a plate full of the stale pastries from the kitchenette in the other.

  “Yes,” he says sheepishly with big, round, guilty eyes as he swallows a mouthful of dry donut without chewing.

  I gesture at him to come in. He steps just inside the door to my office and eyes me nervously. I’ve seen him around the office over the past few weeks but haven’t even bothered to learn his name. It’s really not like me to not know who’s working for me, to not be on top of things. I’ve been distracted lately. I have to get back on track but it’s so hard when I have that arrogant, sexy man tugging at my mind all day.

  Is he thinking about me too? Or am I just another warm body in his procession of googley-eyed, foolish women?

  I need to know more about him. I need to know everything.

  “What’s your name?” I ask the intern, feeling somewhat embarrassed that I don’t know it.

  He swallows hard and his Adam’s apple heaves in his skinny neck. “Charlie.”

  “Charlie, I have an assignment for you,” I say, leaning forward in my chair and folding my arms on the desk in front of me.

  Raw excitement brightens his eyes. “Yes?”

  I drop my voice low. “I need you to dig up everything you can on Matteo Moretti. Find out if he’s dating anyone. Find out about exes. Partying…Affairs…The works.”

  “Yeah – sure – of cour
se.” The intern nods eagerly.

  “Okay. Get on it right away,” I demand and he nods again. “And report directly to me with your findings. It’s for a story that I’m working on.”

  “Thanks so much for the opport—“

  I give him a pointed stare. “No need to kiss ass, Charlie. Just go do your job.”

  He nods curtly with a face-splitting grin before scurrying back to his desk.

  Chapter 21

  I’ve gone mad.

  It’s 9:27 at night and I’m pounding on her door.

  The door opens a crack and Ellie peeps out, only her grey irises coming into view. “Matteo?” Her eyes are wide.

  “Let me in, Ellie –“

  “Why are you here?” She takes a step back and the door swings open. She’s standing there in nothing but a long, white oversized t-shirt. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Her feet are bare, tiny and perfect.

  I feel my damn heart pick up speed again.

  I reach down and pull her face into my hands. I need to taste her. Urgently.

  I want to feel each inch of her wetness gripping me, rippling around my fingers. I want to fuck her, slow and steady until she’s crumbling in my hands. Sweet, feisty pink-haired thing.

  I think she wants that, too.

  My arms circle her hips as I hoist her up. Her legs wrap around my waist. Her fingers slide into my hair. I carry her over to her bed and lay her down on the sheets. She undoes the buttons of my shirt as I climb over her, gliding her shirt up over her head.

  “Matteo…” She’s breathless as she whispers my name.

  Just as she yanks my zipper down, I reach into my pocket and pull out the condom I’d slipped in there before I left my office this afternoon. Gripping the protection in my hand, I lean down and claim her mouth again.

  The kiss is ferocious. I kiss her like I’m trying to devour her, conquer her. She whimpers beneath me, kissing back with just as much intensity as I’m giving. Her thighs part. My hand slides up under her skirt. My fingers ghost across her lace-covered slickness. Breathless, I pull back so I can see her, look at her beautiful face. In the dimly-lit room, all I see are shadows. The curve of her nose, the fullness of her lips, the angle of her chin. And still, it’s all beautiful.

  I grab a handful of her perfect breasts and caress them. She writhes beneath me, reaching for something, anything to hold onto. I bring my mouth to her chest and draw her pebbled nipple between my lips. She groans as her back arches off of the bed. She grabs onto the twisted, bronze metal of her wrought iron bed frame and squeezes until her knuckles go cold.

  “I can’t breathe…” she mutters.

  My mouth slides up to her throat and I press my lips against the warm flesh. “Relax, my Ellie. Let me make you feel good.” My only goal right now is to gift this woman with complete and utter satisfaction.

  “I want you inside of me,” she whispers into the tense air.

  I growl. “I want that, too. My cock belongs inside of you, Ellie.”

  She whimpers helplessly as she shimmies out of her panties.

  It takes just a moment to rip the condom out of its package and roll it onto my steely cock. My fingers swipe across her core and she’s so, so wet. I need to bee inside of her. Now.

  I roar as I roll my hips, burying my cock deep inside of her. She purrs in response. Finding my rhythm is easy. Instant. We fit together so well. I thrust into her again and again and we both disappear into the pleasure.

  Her legs wrap tight around me and I roll and glide and pump into her. It feels like my body was made to fuck hers. Sex has never felt this good, this satisfying. I get harder with each thrust. And she gets wetter and tighter and louder. We’re both desperate for each other. Desperate for release.

  I feel it creeping up on me.

  “Matteo!” She screams my name. She’s ready.

  It steal her lips into my mouth again and I grip her waist. Her legs tighten around me as I pump hard, sending her over the edge. Her whole body strains and her eyes squeeze shut as the orgasms demolishes her.

  It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It’s too much for me.

  Every part of me tenses. My breath gets lost in my chest. My heart hammers against my ribcage. And I explode from within.

  “Ellie.” Her name comes out hoarse and raspy.

  She reaches up and strokes my stubbly chin. “Matteo…” She says my name so softly.

  I’m still seeing stars as I collapse onto the bed beside her, trying to calm my erratic breathing. She’s smiling in the dark. I can hear it in the melody of her breathing.

  She lays her head on my chest and I can’t help threading my fingers through her silky hair. I feel my breathing regulate, my heart no longer slamming against my ribcage.

  This feels…right.

  I want to stay like this for a long time, just here with her in my arms. I’ve never felt this with any other woman.

  She’s quiet, lying there tracing her finger along my collarbone. I place a kiss on her forehead and her head jerks up, her eyes looking straight into mine, worry stretching across her brow. “Don’t go falling in love with me, eh?”

  I laugh – it’s a dark, ominous sound meant to override the tugging I feel in the center of my chest. “My sweet Ellie – I wouldn’t know how to fall in love even if I tried.” Meanwhile, the confusing swirl in the pit of my stomach questions whether it’s not already too late – what I feel for her – what if it is love?

  The fog of apprehension seems to lift from her face, chased away by a wave of relief. “Have you ever been?” she asks, innocence tinting her voice.

  “Been where?” I ask distractedly.

  “In love?”

  I scrunch my eyebrows at her as if that’s the most ridiculous question I’ve ever heard. “Have you?”

  Her eyes roll back into her head. “You never just answer a question, do you?” I chortle as she flips over onto her back and looks solemnly at the ceiling. “I guess I should say ‘yes’. The last guy I dated seriously, we were together for two years. But our relationship always felt…calculated…mathematical. He was good-looking plus he had his own business plus he’d just bought his own apartment…but there was no spark. I kept waiting for it to come but it never did.”

  I lie there quietly, just absorbing her words. It makes me sad, knowing that she’s never had love. She deserves it. She deserves to find someone who makes her heart sing.

  “My mother always says that love is about chemistry. It’s about finding someone who makes your skin tingle when they touch you and makes your heart go ‘boom’.” She pauses, her words lingering in the air.

  I don’t say anything because I don’t know how to tell her that’s exactly how she makes me feel.

  She continues. “But then again, what does she know? She’s an elegant, whimsical Parisian thing who fell for a married man, had a bastard baby, and pretty much ruined her life with a string of poor choices, so what does she know, right?” Her chuckle is tentative, unsure, almost nervous.

  This isn’t supposed to happen. This isn’t supposed to happen, I repeat to myself over and over. I’m not supposed to feel this way for Ellie.

  But the truth is that I want the parts of her that are gentle and unscathed with the same frightening intensity that I want the pieces that are rough and bruised, damaged, torn to shreds. I don’t know what to make of this feeling but I think it might be what they call ‘love’.

  “I’ve always preferred Biology to both Chemistry and Mathematics.” I say that more to break the tension – to make her laugh – than because it’s true.

  She giggles into my chest. “So, I’m guessing you’ve never been in love either.”

  “No, I haven’t. I’ve always found it hard to relate to strangers on an emotional level. It’s always been easier to form a no strings attached physical connection and just go my way at the end of the night.” But, with Ellie, I feel my armor – that hardened shell that keeps me shut off from the rest of
the world – it’s beginning to crack.

  She bites her bottom lip and looks at me. “Well, I guess that once you get to know someone, they’re not a stranger anymore. Then, you can start building a connection with them.”

  “But, why would I want to? I’ve never wanted to.” Even as I say the words, I question if they’re still true.

  She smiles wryly. “And you call me jaded.”

  I push a hard puff of air past my lips. “You’re a lot of things, Ms. Parker.” I twirl her hair around my finger.