Page 19

Ivan has been messaging me on the game we both play all morning, begging for help with the girl he has a crush on. It’s her birthday on Monday, and he wants to give or do something for her.

My suggestion, as it always is, is to make her something.

Can you come help me? She loves cupcakes.

And your dad is okay with this?

Of course he is.

And you asked him?

Duh. Come over.

And he sends me his address.

Forgive me for not trusting a twelve-year-old, but I look up Matteo’s number on the card he gave me and shoot him off a quick text.

Your son has invited me over to help him bake. I hope he actually asked you, and that it’s okay.

I see it’s been read a couple minutes later, but I don’t get a response. Although that’s slightly concerning, he doesn’t say no , and I do want to help Ivan out with the thoughtful and frankly sweet gesture.

And since I’m not worried about Ivan being a bad kid or misbehaving, I drive over with some staple ingredients.

Matteo’s house is bigger than I expected for the two of them. Clean, sharp, strictly masculine. Ivan’s mentioned being an only child. Has even made comments about how single his father is. He makes a good wingman, but I’m not making any moves based on his advice.

The thought makes me laugh to myself. I like Matteo, and he is damn good-looking. Smart. Thoughtful. But he’s mentioned inappropriate behavior from those who work in the center before, and I refuse to take his kindness as anything else.

Not that I would mind.

Ivan is grinning at me when I arrive, but I notice that his dad is nowhere in sight. I raise my brow at him. “Where’s your dad?”

“Had a work emergency. He’ll be back before dinner. He always is.”

“Mm-hmm.” I wave him along. “Show me your kitchen.”

I mean, I can see it peeking out of the back of the house, but I don’t want to just charge my way inside. Still, Ivan won’t stop smiling.

“So, what kind of cupcakes are we making? Do you know what she likes?”

“I was thinking chocolate? I see her eat them sometimes.” The blush on his lightly tanned cheeks has me knocking my shoulder into him.

“There’s nothing wrong with paying attention. Do you two ever hang out?”

He shrugs. “In gym sometimes. We’ve been lab partners a few times too. A lot of her friends are friends with my friends, but we’re usually not…you know.”

“I do.” Being young and being interested in someone else is scary.

“When I get the chance, I make her laugh. It’s high and sweet.” Again, his cheeks turn red, and he won’t meet my gaze.

“Girls like boys who can make them laugh. That’s a good sign. And I have the perfect chocolate cupcake recipe.”

He guides me around the kitchen a little, but most of it, I figure out myself. I’m far too familiar with poking around in other people’s kitchens. We have fun. Ivan is a good kid. Funny. I get why he can make Chelsea laugh.

We’re a mess as we frost them. I brought a few piping bags and tips to play with, and I’m impressed with his dexterity. They look good, even though we’re smudged with the chocolate fudge icing and powdered sugar when Matteo gets home.

He stands in the doorway, his usually stoic self seems a bit more stony—darker as he peers at us for a long beat. I turn to Ivan with a raised brow, and he only offers me a shrug.

“I mean, I did send him a text.”

Yeah, I had too, but I hadn’t gotten an answer…How much trouble are we both in for this?

“You’d better go clean yourself up,” I say softly. “And apologize to your dad.”

Ivan trudges toward Matteo like he’s going to the guillotine while I clean the mess up in the kitchen.

I don’t hear their conversation, other than, “Aw, come on, Dad.”

Sighing, I wash the rest of the dishes—I’m pretty good at cleaning as I go, but the water keeps me from listening in on their moment and means I can slip out of here quickly.

Ivan gives a long, suffering sigh, sends me an annoyed but apologetic look, and stomps up the stairs.

I’m drying my hands when Matteo approaches, ready to pack everything up and get out of here. I hate that I overstepped, yet Matteo stops me with his hands on my shoulders. His touch is light, tentative.

He takes a deep breath that I can feel against my back, and I try not to think about how warm he is. Or how close. “I’m guessing he told you that he asked me.”

“He did. I texted you too.”

“Yeah. I saw it in passing but didn’t actually read it until I was parked in the driveway.”

“Well, shit.”

“How inappropriate has he been with you?” Matteo’s voice is low but not threatening.

I turn, and his hands drop to the counter around me. We’re so close. My heart races, and I bite my lip, looking up at him as he waits for my answer. “He wasn’t. We were just making cupcakes for a girl at his school that he’s got a crush on. It’s her birthday tomorrow.”

The muscle in his jaw jumps and relaxes, but he doesn’t retreat. I feel trapped, but not in a bad way. It’s strange how much I want to reach up and brush my hand over his short, trimmed beard and the stubble along his throat. His mouth is soft, with a full bottom lip.

“He likes to push his boundaries sometimes. I’m sorry for assuming the worst. I like that you want to help him. That you were willing to spend your Sunday here to do so.”

God, the rumble in his voice only amplifies the conflicting feelings being this close to him causes.

“I have a confession, Olivia.”

I nod, words stuck in my throat. For once, I’m unable to speak.

“I feel like being very inappropriate with you right now.”

I suck in a sharp breath and slowly lift my hands to his hard chest. God, is this man made of muscle? “You do?”

He huffs, then his palm cups my cheek, and he leans in to kiss me. It’s soft, softer than I expected, but desire shoots right through me.

My hands slide across his chest and shoulders, noticing how wide and strong he is under my palms.

Matteo presses into me, making the counter bite into my hips. His kiss devolves into hunger, hand sinking into my hair, and I’m struggling to breathe. He’s so intense, and heat builds in my center.

He pulls back a few inches, fingers softly massaging my scalp. “I’d like for you to stay. With me.”

Trying to catch my breath, I meet those deep brown eyes. The sincerity and desire in his eyes has me nodding automatically. Am I getting myself into hot water here? Deeper than I’ll be able to tread? Maybe.

Do I care? Not right this second, I don’t.

I finally allow myself to brush my fingertips over his beard before closing the distance between us again for a slow, drawn-out kiss. “Yes, but first, those cupcakes need to go in the fridge.”

His laugh sends a new wave of heat through me, and I smile before turning in his grip and grabbing the tray. He releases me long enough to put them away and finish cleaning up before Matteo takes my hand and draws me around to the back of his house instead of upstairs.

His master bedroom is large with a wide glass sliding door to the backyard. I understand why we haven’t gone upstairs. There’s a private spot just outside the door that seems to be made just for him.

I don’t get to look for too long, but I catch the deep reds and dark woods that make up the room and his big, soft-looking bed. Then he’s pulling me back in his arms and kissing me like he might die if he stops.

The backs of my legs hit the edge of his mattress, and Matteo has me in his arms, lifting me like I don’t weigh over two hundred pounds and sliding between my thighs. He’s not moving fast, soaking in every inch of me with his hands and the press of his body.

I finally get to admire how he looks outside of work, a T-shirt clinging to his shoulders but draping around his waist. He’s got a broad, athletic build, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach back and pull his shirt over his head to let me explore his torso.

So much rich, tan muscle and skin, dark hair trimmed across his chest, just long enough to catch under my fingernails. And when I scrape my nails down his back, he leans his head into the crook of my neck and groans.

Then, his kisses start, creating a path over my sensitive skin and drawing out a shiver that has me clinging to him.

When his mouth finds my ear, the rasp of his voice has become more accented.

“You are a beautiful woman, Olivia. Inside and out. Fire, strength, and determination paired with passion, intelligence, and kindness. You make it impossible not to want you.”

Mouth on mine again, he tightens his arms around me, squeezing us together so that I can feel every one of his muscles move.

But those words circle in my mind, turning me on more than anything else he could do, and I intend to let him do as he pleases.

Matteo peels my clothes off in a slow progression, pausing between each piece to properly worship every newly revealed part of me. Working me up until I’m shaking with need, he pauses to look me in the eyes again for a long moment.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

I laugh softly and twine my fingers in his hair. “Yes.”

Settling me in the middle of his giant bed, the last traces of our clothes disappear, and I get to feel every glorious inch of him. I barely soften my moan when he slides into me.

God, the way his pupils blow wide as he peers down at me makes me reach for him, pull him down over me, and shift my hips under him.

Even though Matteo has obvious strength, his thrusts are slow and gentle, filling me up in a special way that has me scratching at his back and sides. And fuck, it didn’t make him change a single thing about his pace.

He only allows me to wiggle a little bit. It’s like he’s hell-bent on driving me crazy. Which is working. My thighs shake with the effort to take more of what I want.

“God. Matteo.” My voice holds more whine than I intend, but I crave all of that power he’s teasing me with.

“Hmm,” he murmurs against my jaw. “Did you want me to go slower?”

I groan, half laughing. “No.”

He smiles in return, nuzzling me and grasping me under a knee to angle my hips a little higher. His cock hits a new spot as a result, and my mouth falls open at the new wave of pleasure.

“How’s that?”

I’m gasping, panting, muscles bearing down around him until I can feel every ridge of his shaft inside me. Who knew slow could rile me up this quickly.

This time, my thighs are shaking with my impending release, and Matteo sinks in deep, pressing and grinding as he bottoms out until I’m pulsing on that cusp. He withdraws to my soft cry of protest.

Tapping the head of his cock against my swollen, wet pussy has me aching with the orgasm I was denied.

Huffing under him, he looks down at me with a confident smile that’s bordering on smug. When he thrusts back into me, he’s teasing me again with a slow and methodical beat. I’m already halfway there, and I build twice as fast as the last time, but Matteo stalls me again, right as I’m about to come.

I retaliate with my nails, sinking them in deep.

His low moan shudders through both of us. A few barely there kisses brush across my mouth. “So impatient.”

I’m so sensitive as he starts again after a small cooldown period, and the pleasure goes up a notch, and Matteo finally shows some sign that this is affecting him. Breath heavy, a low growl rumbling through his chest.

Still, he stops again before I can crawl my way over that edge.

I’m not too proud to beg. “Matteo. God. Please.”

My fingers are curled into his dark, damp hair, and I lay a lingering kiss on his mouth before I repeat, “Please.”

His words in response are a grumble. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Hips thrusting slowly, this time, he picks up the pace, and I’m locked in place, back arching as he takes me, growing rough and fast until my orgasm rips through me like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

I’m coming and coming as he pounds into me, finally showing off everything those muscles can do.

Prolonging my ecstasy until I’m shuddering with the overload, and he finally comes too, jerking over me, forehead dropping against mine.

We’re silent, breathing hard, and he retreats enough to brush the hair from my forehead. “You okay?”

My laugh has us both groaning as I squeeze around him. “Yeah, I’m okay. Better than okay.”

His smile is sweet, and he plants a soft kiss on me. “Stay here, let me grab something.”

He retreats, and a rush of cool air envelops me, cools me down, but I don’t move until Matteo is back with a wet washcloth to clean me up. Then, he tucks me under his covers and crawls in behind me.

I don’t plan to stay the night, but I drop into sleep almost immediately.