Matteo (11 page)

Chapter 19

Why the hell is my heart pounding?

I yank on the silk of my tie to loosen it a bit before I take a big swallow of the scotch in front of me. I push back the cuff of my sleeve and glance at my watch.

12:17.

She’s late.

But I’m not pissed like I would be if any of my other clients was late; I’m anxious. Trying to figure out if she’s coming at all. After the way we fucked in that hotel room all weekend, I just can’t be sure that if Ellie will show up today as planned. We’re supposed to meet and discuss my concerns surrounding the factory inspection and the other aspects of the due diligence.

I know I should have called her myself to set up this meeting, but like a fucking coward, I delegated the task to Anna-Maria. I just wanted to delay the awkwardness of having to act professional with her when, in reality, my insides aren’t burning up for her.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m feeling.

I thought that all I needed was one night with her. But having sex with Ellie Parker did nothing to purge her from my mind. In fact, fucking her did just the opposite. This whole
feelings
thing is uncharted territory for me.

When we were in New Jersey, I promised her that we would put all of it behind us once we were back in the city. But now that we’re back, I’m feeling something for her and I don’t understand what the fuck it is.

Just when I grab my glass to pound back the rest of its contents, I see Ellie step through the doors of the Peacock Alley.

There she goes again with that dick-hardening strut of hers.

Goddammit.

And it’s obvious that this girl has no fucking clue what effect she has on a man.

“Matteo,” she says softly and my name has never sounded so good.

I watch as she sinks gracefully into the seat opposite me. “Hello Ellie.”

Her hair is slicked back into a glossy ponytail and her lips are a shiny, light pink. Her eyes look like bottomless pools of gray. She wears a black top that stretches just past her ribcage, revealing a delectable strip of her toned stomach, and a pale blue skirt that flows around her hips. She was sexy, hot as hell before I fucked her. But now…she’s
beautiful
.

Beautiful in a way that makes me want to put her up on a pedestal and idolize her. Worship her with my tongue and my hands and my cock. And I mean that in the sincerest, most genuine way. This woman is a fucking goddess. An Aphrodite. If I didn’t notice that before, the realization has hit me like a ton of bricks right now.

It takes her half a second under my gaze to start to feel self-conscious. Her pretty gray eyes fall to her lap in a bashful blush.

I vaguely register the sound of someone’s voice near our table. I look up to find a waiter smiling down at us. Ellie orders first and I’m so distracted by the sight of her that I simply ask the waiter to bring me whatever Ellie is having. Jeeze – I can’t even think straight when she’s in front of me. How the hell am I supposed to be her lawyer and represent her in her business dealings?

The woman is delicious. I had a sample of her before. I need more.

That’s the only way to satisfy my craving and get her out of my head once and for all. Right? I sure as hell hope so because I liked being able to function like a normal human being. The way I did before I met her. Now, I’m just a shell of a man bumbling by on autopilot?

The food eventually arrives and we pour over the report prepared by the technician who guided us on the factory inspection. Then, we work on formulating a list of requested repairs and changes to be completed in advance of closing. But I’m distracted the whole time. By the way her lips move when she chews. The way her brows squint when she comes across a legal term she doesn’t understand. The way her eyes flutter each time she catches me staring at her in a way that suggests I want to have her again.

By the time the waiter comes by with the bill, I’m as hard as a brick. As I slide my credit card into the leather card-holder the waiter left at our table, I sit and watch her, enjoying the sight of her. In just a few moments, this lunch meeting will be over and we will go our separate ways for the afternoon. So, I just want to absorb her beauty while I still can.

Her gaze flits across mine and her eyes shift away quickly. My heart thuds at the possibility that her thoughts may be wandering in the same neighborhood as mine. I can’t just ignore that feeling and let the moment pass. We have to address the elephant in the room.

And besides, I’m aching to see her smile.

I lean back in my chair, swipe my glass off the table and stare at her. She squirms a bit in her seat as her gaze darts away from mine. “I deserve a fucking medal, y’know?”

She eyes me suspiciously with a jerk of her perfectly groomed eyebrow. “For what?”

“For making it through lunch without knocking everything off this table and flipping you on your hands and knees.”

She tries to look offended, but she bursts out laughing, her giggles shaking her narrow shoulders. Her fingers fly to her mouth to temper her laughter. “Is that so?”

And the tension that has loomed over the table since the moment she sat her pretty ass down dissipates. I lean in towards her and drop my voice to a whisper. “In all seriousness, you look gorgeous…as always.”

Something passes between us and her cheeks redden subtly. “Thank you,” she says modestly. “You look good, too.”

Fuck – I want her so bad right now. “Hey…” I place my hand on hers. I feel the buzz instantly. It’s still there, that electricity between us. My voice trails off.

“What?” She eyes me shyly.

I don’t want to press the issue and come across as a creep, but I need to know if she’s thinking what I’m thinking, wanting what I’m wanting. I pause, searching for the right words.

“You want to fuck me...” She says the words low and decidedly, the flush on her cheeks deepening.

I give her a hangdog grin.

A slow smile pulls across her face and bashfulness fills her eyes. “Yes…” She says the word quietly. And it’s laced with hesitation.

“What?” Confusion ruffles my brow.

“Yes.” She’s more confident the second time she says the word.

And, as eager as my cock is, I still can’t believe my ears.

“That sex – the Jersey sex – that was the best sex I’ve ever had…I want it again.” She gives me a dreamy stare.

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 course.” 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.