Ache For You

32

“Such a terrible liar,” he murmurs. He takes a lock of my hair between two fingers and tugs on it.

It’s a tease, like a schoolboy pulling a ponytail, but the heat in his eyes is anything but boyish.

I’ve never been looked at like this by a man. Never. I think he wants to devour me. I think he wants to do really bad things to me.

I think my ex-stepbrother wants to f**k my brains out.

When my uterus starts doing cartwheels, I have to remind her that not only is it gross to have s*x with a relative, it’s probably illegal. She shoots back that we’re no longer relatives, so all bets are off, and all signs point to Go.

The cheeky b***h.

Matteo murmurs, “I’d love to be part of whatever conversation you’re having in your head right now, bella.”

My uterus sighs and melts into a pool of liquid. At least she shut up.

“I was thinking I have a lot of work to do. I was thinking you should leave now.”

He brushes the ends of my hair over my cheek and jaw, trails it slowly down my neck as his gaze follows. My pulse kicks up a few thousand notches.

“I don’t accept your apology.” He leans closer, fogging my brain like a humid car window. “I don’t think it was sincere. I think you should show me how sorry you are for the way you talk to me, bella. And I think you should do it like this.”

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me.

THIRTEEN

His mouth is heaven. I’ve died and gone straight to heaven. I’m floating on clouds. Somewhere off in the distance, cherubs pluck harp strings and unicorns sail over rainbows.

He’s gentle but firm, slow but dominant. His hands around my face are almost rough, but his mouth is as soft as cotton candy. He parts my lips with his tongue and makes a sound in his throat when he does it, a sound that instantly hardens my n*****s and makes every nerve in my body glow with lust.

All thoughts of personal space are out the window. All thoughts about anything else but his mouth and hard body against mine are toast. I stand there and let him give me the hottest kiss of my life, not caring at all that I know after it’s over, I’ll be horrified with both of us.

It’s too damn good to care about that right now.

I arch into him, grabbing at his suit. He slides one hand into my hair and makes a fist at the scruff of my neck, holding my head in place as his tongue probes deeper into my mouth. His other hand moves from my jaw to my ass. He grabs a handful of it, dragging me closer.

We stand there in front of the counter in my father’s shop and feast on each other for what seems like hours. He kisses me for an eternity, licking and sucking, taking gentle nips of my lower lip, pinning me against him with an arm like a vise when I slide my hands up his chest and wind my arms around his shoulders so I can get even closer.

God, I needed this. How did I ever think I’d been kissed before? This kiss makes every other kiss I’ve ever had feel like a dry peck on the cheek from a granny.

This kiss makes me feel like a woman.

He says something roughly in Italian, breaking away from my mouth to drag his lips over my jaw and down my throat. Pulling my head back with that hand in my hair, he sucks on the ragged pulse in my neck, making me moan.

His voice hot at my ear, he whispers, “I want to hear you make that sound when I’m inside you.”

My eyes roll back in my head. I’m starting to sweat. My heart pounds so hard it might be in danger of bursting. My body glows with heat, especially in the damp space between my legs, which is also howling with need.

We stagger back a step or two and bump into the counter. Matteo’s erection presses into my crotch. I whimper, panting and delirious, and hear him make an animal noise, a growl, like a bear.

It’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.

Then he opens his mouth and ruins everything.

“You see? We don’t have to be enemies. Let me buy the business, and we can be the best of friends.”

I freeze. All the blood that was pumping through my veins so hotly falls to a complete standstill. I stare at him, at his beautiful face so close to mine, and wonder how strict the laws on murder are in this country.

“Wait. Wait—did you just kiss me to try to get me to sell you my father’s business?”

He glowers at me from under dark brows but doesn’t respond.

I push him away, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Answer the question.”

He inhales a slow breath, drags a hand through his hair, and straightens his jacket. Then he tosses his head back and stares at me down his nose.

“Oh my God. You . . . you . . . mercenary!”

A muscle flexes in his jaw. His eyes could make a cold pile of kindling explode into flame. “The company will be better off in my hands. If you want to honor your father’s memory, let someone run it who can make it the success it deserves to be.”

This is the second time he’s made me feel like I’ve taken a punch to the gut. I’m determined it will be the last.

I straighten my shoulders, lift my chin, and dredge up what little dignity I have left. Then I stare him right in the eye and let him have it.

“f**k you, Matteo Moretti. f**k you and that high horse you rode in on, and f**k your ego, and f**k your fake kiss.”