by Ella Brooke
Quivering, Hanna gripped the edge of the table as he tucked two fingers in the side of her underwear and slipped them inside her.
“Ah! Ah!” Hanna gasped, struggling to be quiet.
With two fingers inside her, and one rubbing delicately above her mound, Mateo diligently drew a slow-building surge of pleasure from her body. It grew and grew, and her hips bucked forward.
“Yes, Hanna, yes,” Mateo said, drawing her forward and bringing her to the brink.
Her pleasure radiated through her in one unmitigated wave, and Hanna’s head fell back. Her hand fumbled at the side of the table. Hanna felt both sated and weak as the delicious warmth rose and fell away. She opened her eyes again and looked at Mateo, who was of course looking quite smug.
She sat up on the table, leaning back on her palms. Mateo stood up straight and crossed his arms.
“Wow,” she muttered.
“Ready for lunch now?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m starving.”
Chapter Nine
Mateo
Mateo had been all around the world. Sometimes as part of a diplomatic envoy. Usually as a tourist. Never as a road-tripper.
Over the past few weeks, instead of pouting around the condo, he had been making himself useful in the work room, learning how to apply and blend the glazes on a few pieces of broken pottery. It was oddly calming, watching the color bloom to life. And, in between, he and Hanna had been touching each other every spare moment they had alone. Eventually, Hanna had let him help Maris finish a large order of mugs, plates, and bowls that they had gotten an order for. Maris had done the more detailed work, but he had been able to do the bulk of the glazing, and to Hanna’s standard. It seemed he hadn’t forgotten how to paint after all. As a member of the team (however temporarily), he’d been enlisted to help deliver the lot to a shop in New Orleans.
Next time, Mateo was going to foot the bill for shipping. Six hours after they’d left (very early in the morning, and a good half hour of which had been devoted to bathroom breaks), they pulled up to a drab-looking house with a white steel fence surrounding it.
“You have to be kidding me,” Mateo said.
“Sorry to disappoint, your highness,” Maris teased.
“I thought we were going to drop our things off at a hotel before making the delivery,” Mateo said.
“We are. Although this is a hostel, not a hotel.” Hanna pinched his cheek.
Mateo glared at her as she slipped out of the car but followed her quickly and grabbed their bags before she could touch them.
“My primeval hero,” Hanna said with a feigned sigh.
“Lay off him,” Maris said. “I wish I could find a guy to treat me like a princess.” She snorted. “I mean other than Davide.”
“Are you talking about the bartender at that place a block from our apartments?” Mateo gave Maris a wink and shouldered her overnight bag as well.
“Yeah, he does work there. But we’re friends, too.” Maris opened the gate and they approached the house.
“Is he an artist like the rest of you?”
“He’s a musician, primarily,” Hanna said.
Mateo stepped onto the porch and looked around the neighborhood. There was a little trolley car line within sight. The area didn’t look like much, but when they stepped inside, Mateo found himself caught by the amazing murals on the walls. Floor to ceiling, there were paintings of men and women playing brass instruments and dancing.
“Wow.”
Hanna patted his arm. “You don’t get to see this side of things when you’re always staying in the swanky hotels.”
“True enough.”
The hostel definitely had character. Mateo had to give it that. The rooms were large, but cluttered with oversized furniture, paintings, books, and artifacts. The host showed them to their room where Mateo set their bags down and turned to stare at Hanna and Maris.
“Bunk beds? Really?”
Hanna and Maris laughed. Maris grabbed her bag and ran over to one of the beds. “I’m on top!”
“I bet you are.” Hanna shrugged and went to sit on the full-sized bed spreading out from under the second set of bunks. “I can barely sit up straight in the morning, let alone climb down from a bunk.”
“I suppose… I’ll be on top as well.” Mateo set his bag on the bunk above Hanna. “Since you’ve already chosen.”
“Good. Then when Sam comes, he can sleep there,” Maris said.
Mateo wrinkled his nose.
“Now, we have a couple of hours before we have to deliver the goods. I’m gonna get some food. You—” Maris pointed at Hanna, “—should catch a nap.”
“No problem.” Hanna stretched out on the bed and kicked off her shoes. She closed her eyes immediately.
Mateo looked at her fondly. “Maybe I’ll stay in the room as well. Relax a bit.”
“Whatever you say. You’re gonna have to help me carry all those heavy boxes in though.” Maris flashed them a peace sign as she left.
When the door closed, Mateo pulled up a folding chair next to Hanna and brushed his fingers over her hair.
“Mm. Not asleep yet.”
“Are you feeling okay?” Mateo tilted his head to the side, watching her relaxed face.
“Hm. Tired. A little queasy.” She smiled. “Definitely less annoyed than I would have been if Blaine had come with us.”
“You should have some more water.”
“If I drink any more water, I’m going to burst. Or wet the bed.”
Mateo chuckled. He gently massaged the space between her eyes and smiled. “Some food then.”
“Maybe later?”
“As you wish.” Mateo pressed a kiss to her temple and went to explore their strange lodgings. He would have something for her to eat before they headed out for the delivery.
“Your delivery boy is so good looking,” Annie said. She was signing papers with Hanna and discussing how to handle and display the products they’d brought.
Mateo, who had shed a few layers in the New Orleans heat to carry the boxes, hefted a box a little higher and rolled his shoulders to give Hanna and her middle-aged customer a good view. He could hear Annie laughing and oh-my-ing in response.
The woman had a little shop of home fashions run out of an old Victorian house that looked like it was probably haunted by a ghost or two. He was starting to notice the insides and outsides of places here. They were all interesting, in their own way. He unburdened himself of the box he was carrying and was finished with the job. Over a thousand pieces of hand-painted stoneware, and he’d helped create and carry them. Not too shabby, if he did say so himself.
Annie brought him a glass of lemonade while Maris and Hanna unpacked the pieces and helped set up a display in a repurposed cupboard, complete with a small banner advertising The Kaleidoscope Art House. Mateo stepped back to watch them. He was fond of that look in Hanna’s eye. That one where she was looking at her own work and considering the arrangement and the lighting and all those things with her artist’s eye. She wasn’t just passionate; she was a professional. It gave him tingles.
When the two women were done, they said goodbye to Annie, who gave Hanna a big hug, and headed back out to the car.
“Do you guys want me to drop you off at the hostel?” Maris asked.
“Where are you going?” Mateo asked, but he didn’t care very much. If Maris could occupy herself, he could have some time alone with Hanna away from prying eyes.
“I’m meeting up with some friends to plan for a big, crazy art installation we’ve been commissioned to do. I’m actually glad we had to do this shipment because it’s a good opportunity.” Maris sat behind the wheel.
“Why don’t you drop us off at the square? I doubt Mateo has had the opportunity to see it.” Hanna looked back at him. He had been relegated to the backseat thanks to her carsickness.
“I haven’t seen anything in New Orleans before. It was never on my bucket list for places to visit in the States.”
> “I’m dying. I bet you’ve visited all kinds of crazy places,” Maris said.
“I don’t know about crazy, but I’ve done a lot of traveling. You’ll be proud to know you introduce me to something new every five minutes,” Mateo replied.
When Maris dropped them off at Jackson Square, the daylight had begun to fade, and the street was beginning to fill with all kinds of people. They walked leisurely, some dropping by tables set up by artists, some listening to musicians playing for tips. Boldly, Hanna took Mateo’s hand, and they walked alongside the shops in the first floor of a red-brick building. The structures were old but well-loved. The air had a weight to it unrelated to the humidity. Mateo had never realized before that places had personalities. It made him want to visit some of the spots around the world he’d seen but not really felt, with Hanna by his side so he didn’t miss anything.
“This is nice,” she murmured, moving closer to him.
It was, indeed. Back in Shreveport, while they had more freedom than they would have at the palace in Artigua, they still very much had to be on their guard. It was growing painful; he could be so near her, but not close to her, not touching. He released her hand and put his arm around her shoulders.
As they approached the edge of the building, the sound of a cello and violin floated through the air. Mateo frowned and looked to Hanna who smiled wryly.
“If you think they’re playing an orchestral version of a frosty queen’s theme song, you’re right.” She chuckled and pointed. “Look at those two nerds.”
Mateo took a closer look and realized that it was Sam (who seemed to have found a shirt for the occasion) and Davide from the bar, playing cello and violin respectively. Sam smiled as he played, but Davide’s forehead had sloped into a deep frown as he concentrated. When the song ended, the scowl passed, and he broke out a big grin for the crowd that had been watching them. Sam turned to look at some notes at his side, and Davide reached over and cupped his face, lifting his chin up and kissing him. Sam looked slightly surprised, but pleased.
Mateo was far more surprised.
“They have a gig with their group at the Spotted Cat Club tomorrow, I think, so they came down early to busk and do musician things,” Hanna said.
“Or couple things. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you’re funny when you’re jealous,” Hanna teased. Mateo pulled her flush to him, and she shrugged. “Also, maybe, a little, I thought it would be easier to keep you away if you thought I wasn’t entirely available.”
“You underestimate me.”
Possessively, but with a sense of relief, Mateo lifted Hanna’s chin for a kiss. In return, she curled her fingers over the back of his head and kissed him impetuously. Who would see them here? Even if her friends happened to spot them across the square, it didn’t matter. Not here, not now. All that mattered was that he had her in his arms. This precious, fierce woman.
As he looked down into her eyes, the rich, earthy brown that made her so hard to look away from, Mateo knew he had to find a way to make this real. He had to make it more than a flirtation fueled by furtive kisses and touches behind closed doors. He wrapped his arm around her again and found his way through the crowds with a newfound appreciation of this trip. They weren’t just there to make a personal delivery of delicate stoneware. Not just there so Maris could make her art connections, or Sam and Davide could find an appreciative audience.
This was their time, Mateo and Hanna.
They walked until they reached a place called Café Du Monde, and they sat in the evening air, drinking decaffeinated chicory coffee and munching on crispy beignets. Between licking her fingers, Hanna told Mateo stories of how her nana had taught her to use the potter’s wheel, and how they’d gone to the farmer’s market on Saturday mornings to sell her first pieces.
“Is it hard letting them go? After you make them?”
“Oh, not really. Not for cups and plates. Sometimes, if I get attached to a piece, I’ll give it to a friend, but for regular daily things, it isn’t a big deal. They’re made to be used by other people.” Hanna crushed a little ball of powdered sugar under her fingertip. “Other pieces, sculptures, those are harder. I don’t do them as much, though.”
“Why not?”
“They don’t sell as well. I mean, it’s the same reason Sam only produces so much with his charcoals and pastels and tends to come in to do scheduled portraits. People don’t want to buy your heart’s desire. They want to buy what they had in mind to buy.”
Mateo leaned his cheek on his hand. “Is that why you get so angry with me? I could paint anything I wanted, and never worry about it having more purpose than the joy it gives me. But I don’t.”
“I don’t get angry.”
“You definitely get frustrated with me.”
“I just can’t imagine having that kind of freedom and not using it.”
Mateo licked his lips. He reached for her fingers and rubbed them between his for a moment. “Come with me.”
She rose but looked up curiously. “Where are we going?”
“Exercising our freedom.”
Chapter Ten
Hanna
Hanna basked in Mateo’s nearness. At home, she could never lean into him like this. She could never hold his hand across the table or kiss him openly on the street to the sounds of whatever music was playing. It was always a stolen touch in the workroom or kissing illicitly while her roommate or Mateo’s “fiancée” wasn’t home.
Hanna had doubts now that Mateo would ever marry Ariana. He had said this was how it had to be, and he’d never claimed he wouldn’t, but if he had been aloof toward the girl before, he was downright Arctic now. Hanna had tried to remain friendly with Ariana. It was no one’s fault they’d been put in such a bizarre situation. But Hanna still wished Ariana could be honest. She wished they all could.
Now, walking down Charles Street, past the signs for ghost tours (which she’d been on before), and hole-in-the-wall bars, her guilt fell away in favor of excitement. Wherever Mateo was taking her, this time together was what she’d really been hoping for when she’d invited him along. If pressed, Sam and Davide would’ve taken the time from their schedule to haul a few boxes. She couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get Mateo more deeply involved in their world, though. And he seemed to be flourishing because of it.
“Too bad we can’t stop for absinthe,” she said.
Mateo laughed. “You can’t.”
“I thought, since you drank decaf with me before, you’d be avoiding caffeine and alcohol.”
Mateo made a face.
“It’s just not fair that I can’t enjoy those things and you can.”
“I suppose…”
Hanna shook her head. “I’m kidding. You can drink if you want. It won’t bother me.”
Mateo turned his head to her and kissed her forehead. “If you don’t, I won’t. It’s not that much of a sacrifice for me to give up drinking until you can partake. Coffee will be harder, though. I only drank decaf with you because I don’t want to be up until dawn.”
“Oh, that’s a pity. You should see the sunrise in New Orleans at least once in your life.”
“I’ll put it on my bucket list.”
Mateo led her into a hotel she’d never noticed before. As they entered the lobby, the vibe gave her the impression she was stepping into a speakeasy. Old architecture and furniture, lots of mirrors. She smiled as she looked around in awe.
“Didn’t like the hostel, huh?” she teased.
“It’s fine. Just not as private as I’d like.”
Mateo kissed her cheek, then went to talk to the concierge. In a few minutes, they were led up to a room on the third floor overlooking the street. It was a bit small, but otherwise it was lovely. The walls were a creamy, golden color, and the floor dark, shining wood. The bed, in the middle of the room, had white pillows and a black duvet, and in the middle sat one throw pillow in the shape of a bow tie.
“Is this the bachelor�
�s suite?” Hanna joked. She picked up the bow-tie pillow and looked behind the bed, where there was a floor-to-ceiling installation that looked like it had been painted to match the rings of one of the outer planets.
“This is how I travel.” Mateo kicked off his shoes and shed his jacket before joining her on the bed. “It’s not all high-class hotels.”
“Oh, so this room was cheap?”
“No, but it’s not all as devoid of personality as you think.” Mateo ran his fingers through her hair. “There are worlds out there that you and I have never seen. Places I’ve been to but never truly experienced because I wasn’t with someone who saw the art in everything.”
Hanna took his hand and threaded her fingers through his. “I’m not this amazing pixie dream girl you think I am. I’m not manic enough.”
“I don’t think that!” He kissed her fingers. “You don’t have to be a magical creature to make someone see reality for what it is. You don’t have to be magical to be the kind of person to speak honestly. To care about the people around you. Hanna, this is just part of you. It makes you a good person. A genuine person.”
He brushed his fingers over her cheek. When his lips touched hers, it was a gentle but decisive move. Full of meaning but deliberate. Being here, they were no longer just surrendering to the urges of their bodies, their needs of the moment. They were choosing to be together.
Mateo pushed away the straps of her sundress, and as it fell down, he squeezed her shoulders. She unfastened her bra, feeling the tell-tale throbbing between her legs. It was as if she’d awoken something primal in her when she’d let Mateo touch her that first time, and it would not be put to rest easily. She craved him. As much as she craved a good hamburger once a month, or the sunlight on her skin.