Mom and Dad loved the law and their jobs at the District Attorney’s office. They liked the challenges and rigors of their careers. They were passionate about giving back to society. They felt that what they did protected people. That it mattered and gave their lives intrinsic meaning.
They always made time for me despite their demanding careers. Our family may have been small, but we lived large and had many adventures together. It never felt as though something was lacking.
Or missing.
If my mother and father had glimpsed the future and saw how they’d be abruptly taken from me, would they have done things differently? Would they have given me siblings?
Matteo seems to sense the morose direction of my thoughts. His arms tighten around my waist as though he’s anchoring me to him. Does he feel how close I am to floating away into oblivion?
Blinking hard, I’m back in the present instead of tangled up in the past.
“You still miss them.”
We’ve never discussed my parents or their death, but I know what he’s referring to.
“Every single day,” I whisper.
“Being alone must be difficult.”
He has no idea.
How could he?
He’s been surrounded by family his entire life. He couldn’t begin to understand how lonely it is to have no one.
Unbidden tears flood my eyes. Other than Dominic and Chloe, I never talk about my parents. I keep all the pain associated with them locked in a box, buried deep inside. To constantly take it out and hold it in my hands is excruciatingly painful.
I stay busy with school, volunteering, and going out with Chloe and her friends. I spend time with Dominic. When my mind is engaged with other things, I don’t dwell on the loss as much. At least, I try not to.
But the stone-cold reality is that the sadness is always festering in the back of my mind.
“Don’t cry, bella. I don’t like seeing you sad.”
This evening began with me trying to figure out who this man is and has turned into me dwelling on my past. “I’m fine. It’s been two years now. It doesn’t hurt as much as it used to,” I lie.
Needing a distraction until I can get my emotions under control, I say, “Tell me about Italy.”
I accompanied my parents on trips to France, England, Germany, Greece, Africa, India, and China. They loved exploring new places. Mom and Dad enjoyed immersing themselves in rich cultural histories and learning about how other people lived. It was important to them that I not take the life I had for granted. And I didn’t. I had a different perspective than a lot of my classmates. I realized that not everyone lived the way we do. Even in our own country, I was shown that life could be a vastly different experience.
“Each summer, my mother would take all of us to Padova for three months so that we could spend time with family. And then around Christmas, we would go back for a few weeks. Italy has always felt like a second home to me.”
I smile while imagining Matteo’s entire family gathered together in Italy to celebrate the holidays. “That sounds lovely.”
“It was.” He’s quiet for a moment before asking, “What was it like growing up for you? Did you have a happy childhood?”
I keep my gaze on the city lights shining brightly as far as the eye can see. “Yes, very happy. But it was just the three of us. Sometimes my godfather would spend the holidays with us, and that was always nice.”
“There are no aunts or uncles? Grandparents?”
Sadness rushes through me as I shake my head. “No. It was just the three of us. And of course, Dominic, my godfather. He’s the closest thing I have to family now.” I feel the need to explain that even though it sounds lonely, for the most part, it wasn’t. I don’t have any complaints about how I was raised. “My mother and father were wonderful parents. They spent a great deal of time with me. I think they both hoped I would follow them into law, but I’ve always loved art. They took me all over the world. We visited natural history and art museums, along with castles and churches. The love I have for art and architecture is because of them. Because they fostered it within me. I’m the person I am today because of them.”
“I’m sorry. To lose your parents at such a young age is a huge heartbreak to suffer.”
His words send another thick shaft of pain slicing through me, almost cleaving me in half. “Yes.”
Thankfully, he asks no more questions about them. “Your godfather lives here in Chicago?”
“Yes. He’s one of the reasons I moved back. I wanted to be near him.” I shrug. “Neither one of us have family.”
“Will you introduce us?”
Surprised by the request, I turn my head to look at him. “I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “I haven’t given it any thought.”
“I’d like to meet him.”
Feeling confused, I ask, “Why?”
“I want to meet the most important person in your life.”
I try steeling my heart, but it melts a bit from his words.
Matteo turns me around and pulls me closer until my breasts flatten against his chest. I tilt my head to meet his dark gaze.
“I thought we were taking this one step at a time.”
“Meeting your godfather would be moving too swiftly?”
“Maybe.” Dropping my gaze, I sink my teeth into my lower lip.
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t meet this man?”
“Of course not,” I say hastily. The last conversation I had with Dominic flashes through my mind. Introducing the two of them will have to wait for the time being. I admit softly, “You’re confusing me. I’m not sure what to think of you or what’s going on with us.”
His lips ghost over mine. “Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe you need to stop thinking so much and rely on how I make you feel.”
That’s exactly what happens when I’m around him. My brain automatically clicks off and I’m reduced to a mass of quivering hormones.
“Would you like to use the pool?”
Smiling, my brows draw together. “I didn’t bring a suit.”
“Do we need them?”
That question makes me laugh. “Ah, yeah. I think we do.”
“Have you forgotten that I’ve already seen you naked?” Leaning forward, he brushes his lips over mine. “You’re a delicious sight, all pressed up against the glass with the city in the background.”
Heat fills my cheeks. “We can’t,” I whisper.
“Of course we can. No one is allowed up here until I allow it.”
Grasping at straws, I murmur, “I’m sure there are cameras.” Am I tempted to give in? Tempted to skinny-dip with him?
Yeah, I am.
“The cameras have been disabled for the time being.”
His answer makes me pull away. I frown. “How do you know?” Is he telling me what I want to hear so that I’ll give in? A month from now, will I find a video clip of me swimming in the buff or doing a lot more? That thought cools some of ardor rushing through me.
“I know the owner of the building,” he explains. “Call it a special privilege.”
I raise a brow, wondering how many other women have been treated to a night on the rooftop.
“You do this often?” I blurt.
A knowing smile slowly spreads across his face. It makes me want to deck him.
“Jealous?”
I snort, trying to sound haughty. “Hardly.”
Maybe.
A little.
He settles his fingers under my chin and tips my face toward his. “I’ve never brought a woman up here. I told you- I don’t date. I fuck. But for you, I’m willing to make an exception.”
His words make my belly quiver.
Do I believe him?
Studying him, I realize that- yeah, I do. Matteo has to know that he doesn’t have to wine and dine me so that I’ll have sex with him.
Yet here we are, standing amid the beautiful gardens on the rooftop deck after enjoying a decadent dinner prepared
just for us.
Of course I’m wavering.
“You’re absolutely sure the cameras have been turned off?”
Hunger burns his eyes. “Positive.”
Feeling nervous and unsure, my tongue darts out to moisten my lips. His eyes drop to them, and a groan rumbles up from deep within his chest.
“Okay.”
An instant later, he pulls me to him. His lips descend for a kiss so consuming that I feel drunk from it. Mouth rising from mine, he backs away. Still dazed from the kiss, I watch as he sinks onto one of the deck chairs.
“Strip for me.”
A ball of apprehension forms in my gut. I’ve never stripped with the intention of seducing or turning someone on. I’ve peeled off my clothing while someone else did the same so we could jump into bed. But no one has ever sat down and simply watched me undress.
I stand frozen in place, unsure what to do. I watch Matteo’s face. The way his eyes roam over my body makes my pulse pound.
Moving back to Chicago, re-starting my life, I didn’t realize it at first, but a theme has emerged. It’s one of me stepping out of my comfort zone. Pushing my own limits. And this is just another example.
I could say no.
But I don’t want to.
I have no idea what will happen with Matteo in the long run, but I want to enjoy our time together while it lasts.
I step out of my sandals. My fingers hover over the buttons of my blouse. I can’t stop them from trembling as I slip one button free from its hole before moving on to the next.
The noise from the city below fades into the background. I’m only aware of Matteo sitting in front of me, watching every single brush of my fingers against my body. Having his undivided attention makes me feel sexy.
When I reach the last button, the material parts before I slip it off my shoulders, allowing it to fall to the ground. I can almost feel the way his eyes caress my naked flesh. The way he continues watching as I bare more of it for him.
My fingers move to the waistband of my shorts and pop open the button. I lower the zipper and wiggle the fabric over my hips until it meets the same fate as the shirt. Eyes locked on his, I stand before him in pale pink panties and a lacy bra.
Reaching around my back, I unhook the clasp. The straps slide down my shoulders, and the cups fall away.
What Matteo said before is correct. He has seen me naked. That knowledge doesn’t vanquish the skittishness pounding through me. My fingers slip beneath the elastic band of my panties, but I don’t immediately remove them.
Holding his gaze, I silently beg him to take over.
He takes pity on me and stands, his gaze never faltering from mine.
His fingers go to the top of his shirt and begin unfastening the buttons. When he reaches the bottom, his shirt hangs open, displaying a strip of olive-toned skin. He shrugs it off and makes quick work of his jeans, revealing tight black boxer briefs.
In the blink of an eye, those disappear as well.
My breath catches at the sight of him… all that firm, muscular flesh.
He’s gorgeous.
Matteo walks toward me with a hand extended. I take it without hesitation. We move to the edge of the pool, and he smiles at me before we jump in.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I wake the next morning to memories of what happened last night with Matteo flashing through my mind. Stretching, I smile and sink further into the soft covers.
The other side of the bed is empty.
I push the pang of disappointment from my mind. Just because he said all the words I wanted to hear doesn’t mean that we’ve somehow become embroiled in a relationship.
I told myself that I would enjoy whatever this is between us and that’s exactly what I plan to do. I refuse to overthink or overanalyze the situation. If all we do is have fantastic sex-and make no mistake, the sex has been mind-blowing-I’ll enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts.
There’s no reason why I shouldn’t.
I’m a grown, single woman. I have nothing to be ashamed of for indulging in a relationship solely based on sex.
A noise from the kitchen makes me sit up. Holding the white comforter to my naked breasts, I strain my ears and listen for the slightest sound.
Just as I start to relax, chalking it up to an overactive imagination, I hear it again. Someone’s moving around in the kitchen. That last noise was definitely the closing of a cabinet door. The fine hair on my arms stands at attention. As I’m about to get out of bed and throw on some clothes, Matteo fills the doorway looking rumpled.
The tension filling me instantly fades. I smile, realizing that he’s naked and holding two cups of coffee.
“I’d be careful with that, if I were you. One stumble and you could be permanently scarred for life.”
His cock hardens as I stare unabashedly at it.
“Trust me, the thought occurred to me once or twice.”
My eyes move back up to his. “Thank you for bringing me coffee in bed.”
Sauntering closer, he holds out one mug like an offering. I slip my hands around the ceramic and bring it to my lips for a small sip. The dark, aromatic roast scalds my throat.
Perfect.
“I brought you something else as well.”
Setting his mug down on the mirrored nightstand, his erection juts out at me. I can’t remember seeing anything so tempting. I’m fascinated by its length and girth. I lean closer and lick the tip like it’s a lollipop. One hand wraps around his thick shaft as the other settles under the heavy weight of his balls. Gently I begin massaging his sac. My fingers curl around the circumference, gliding up and down his cock before I bring the bulbous head to my lips and suck him deep inside my mouth. I flatten my tongue against the bit of sensitive skin where the head and shaft meet as I move up and down. His fingers tunnel through my hair and sink into my scalp, holding me firmly in place. Hearing his low moan of pleasure makes me hasten my pace.
Just when I think he might be close to coming, he gently pushes me away. A popping sound fills the room as I release his cock. I glance up at him in question. He continues towering over the side of the bed, his eyes burning into mine. Disappointment surges through me that he won’t allow me to finish the job.
I want to make him come.
I want him to fall apart.
I want to bring him to his knees.
Matteo is always composed. Always perfectly put together. Even when he’s working out. He’s not a man who easily loses control.
“Turn over,” he bites out, sending my heart rate skyrocketing.
I scramble to do his bidding. Doggie style has never been one of my favorite positions. I’ve only done it a few times. It was lackluster at best. My boyfriend seemed to enjoy it, but I couldn’t get off.
If anyone can change my opinion about being on all fours, it’s this man. The sound of him tearing into a condom package breaks the silence. As soon as I’m on my hands and knees with my ass in the air, Matteo grabs me by the hips and drags me to the edge of the bed.
“Spread your legs.”
I oblige.
“Further.”
I widen them more. A hand lands on the middle of my back and pushes my chest toward the mattress. I feel open and exposed.
Matteo cups my cheeks and massages the firm globes. My eyes close. His touch feels incredible. I’m not comfortable with the position, but I like what he’s doing. My inhibitions start to dissolve.
A hand slips between my legs and strokes my pussy lips before zeroing in on my clit, rubbing it in tight little circles. I arch against his hand, seeking more contact. His blunt-tipped fingers are pure magic. As I start to spiral, he dips a finger inside my wetness, eliciting a groan.
I’ve never met a man who knows how to work a woman’s body the way he does.
He pumps his finger inside me until my core pulses around him. I want to feel his hard length buried deep inside my pussy, filling me to the brim. Making me lose control. Removing his finger from me,
he trails it over the cleft that divides my cheeks. I freeze because no one has ever touched me there.
I gasp when his teeth sink into one of my ass cheeks. The bite isn’t painful, but will leave a mark. His breath feathers over my heated flesh. His tongue darts inside me and I arch, wanting only to get closer.
His hands once again grip my cheeks. The head of his cock brushes against my lower lips. He coats himself in my wetness and enters me. I let out a keening wail as he slides all the way in to the hilt.
He keeps a firm hold on my hips as he continues moving in and out of me. He’s not slamming home, but slowly stoking the fires within, pushing me higher and higher until we both explode with pleasure.
Curling his body around mine, he nips at my shoulder and pulls away. The moment his cock slides free, he delivers a sharp, stinging slap to my bottom. I yelp and turn to glare at him. He grins, his eyes still holding remnants of simmering heat.
Matteo heads to the bathroom attached to my bedroom to dispose of the condom. Reappearing moments later, he pulls on his boxers. My heart sinks and I wonder if he stuck around this morning just to get in another round before disappearing for good.
I hate myself for feeling disappointed.
Maybe even hurt.
I need to get better at this whole just sex thing. If his normal pattern holds true, I won’t hear a word from Matteo for at least a week. I could kick myself for believing him when he told me that he was interested in something more. For being seduced by a romantic dinner. For believing that I was different than the other women who came before me. I want to laugh as that thought slams into my brain. How stupid am I for falling for such an obvious and unoriginal line?
Gathering the sheet around me, I pray that he’ll just leave. I’m not in the mood for any more lies.
“So, I was thinking we could go for a run. Then maybe grab some breakfast afterward.”
The disappointment and hurt that had been bubbling up in me instantly vanishes.
“Sure. That sounds good.” I hold back a grin. I can’t allow myself to get too jacked up. Breakfast and a run don’t necessarily mean anything.
“All right,” he pulls on his jeans, “I’m going home to change. I’ll be back in about ten minutes.” He holds my gaze. “Is that enough time for you?”
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