Read The Truth About De Campo Online

Authors: Jennifer Hayward

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Women

The Truth About De Campo (12 page)

BOOK: The Truth About De Campo
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Her lips parted, the focus she devoted to his pulsing erection just about doing him in. He reached down, cupped her buttock in his hand and brought her thigh around his waist. “Take me inside of you,” he urged. “I need to be inside of you so badly, Quinn.”

She closed her fingers around him and guided him to her slick, hot flesh with that same intense concentration. He sank his palms into the mattress on either side of her and forced himself to wait. “More?”

“Yes.”

He sank into her just enough to find his place. She arched her hips against him. “Please—”

He gave it to her, excruciatingly slowly, an inch at a time, waiting for her body to adjust to his. Waiting for her to relax—fully trust him. Deeper and deeper she took him, flexing beneath him until he was buried to the hilt. The shocked, dazed pleasure in her eyes had him whispering mindless pleas in Italian for control. He had never felt anything so good in his life as she clenched her tight muscles around him.

He let out a husky groan. If this was hell, he never wanted it to end.

Quinn wrapped her leg tighter around him, brought him closer. “Tell me,” he said softly. “Tell me what you want.”

She lifted her hips. “More.”

He shook his head. “No.
Tell me.
I want to know what you like. What you need.”

She began with soft, breathy requests that were half shy, half eager. He gave it to her, easy, leisurely, leashing the hard demand of his body to give her the buildup she needed. She caught her lip between her teeth. Her cheeks turned rosy. He urged her on with husky commands, goading her, making her tell him more. Making himself half-crazy in the process. Her demands became more insistent, more graphic. He hooked her leg higher around his waist and stroked even deeper inside her.

Deeper, harder until he was shaking with the effort it took to hold back. She flung a hard, raw demand at him that was the end of him. He swore under his breath and set his thumb to her center.

“Come,
sei bella,
Quinn,” he murmured, dropping his mouth to hers. “Come for me.”

She moaned and closed her eyes, pushed up harder against his thumb. Something inside her was still holding back, unable to let go. He held his screaming body in check and took her apart with one firm rotation of his thumb against her clitoris. Her hot contractions around him set him off like fireworks.

He kissed her, hungry, wild, his hoarse cry spilling into her mouth. And then there was only the long, sweet road back, his body cradled in hers, their connection so complete, so inviolate, he knew he’d never experienced anything like it.

Neither of them dared say anything. It was that heavy in the air. He rolled onto his side, took her with him, loath to break the bond. Her hot tears dampened his cheeks. He brushed them away, murmuring soft endearments in his native language until she fell asleep in his arms.

Moonlight poured into the room from the skylight, bathing them in an otherworldly glow. He stared up at it, his arms tucked securely around Quinn. He was definitely going to hell. He’d definitely passed Go. He’d definitely collected the girl.

It was a done deal.

CHAPTER NINE

Q
UINN
WOKE
WITH
the birds, their boisterous song nudging her from a restless sleep that had seen her toss and turn most of the night. She wasn’t used to sleeping with anyone. She and Julian had occupied separate beds for the last few months of their marriage when things had become intolerable, and Matteo’s warm body wrapped around hers, his arm keeping her anchored securely against him was as alien as it was wonderful. She felt claustrophobic, secure and cherished all at the same time.

Light filtered through the skylight, sliding across the bronzed sinewy strength of Matteo’s forearm. Her stomach did a slow roll, her fingers twisting in the whisper-soft silk sheets. Last night had been incredible...unforgettable. But had her need to be human been worth the fallout that was sure to follow? Because she had to recuse herself from the committee now. There was no other option.

Which meant telling her father she had developed a personal relationship with Matteo De Campo.

A wave of perspiration blanketed her skin. Throwing off the sheet, she slid her legs over the side of the bed and slipped quietly to the floor. Pulled on her bikini and padded out onto the patio where the first signs of dawn were tracing a hazy pattern across the sky. It was warm already but she knew the slightly feverish sensation heating her skin was the thought of disappointing her father yet again. Watching the disapproval stain his blue-green eyes until she thought it would be easier just to turn around and take it all back. She pressed a hand to her stomach as her muscles tightened in a full-on revolt. Warren would not understand her letting her personal feelings get in the way of an assignment as big as this. He would be furious—questioning his decision to give it to her.

Standing there, watching the waves roll into shore, the surf rougher this morning after last night’s storm, remembering how slowly, how exquisitely Matteo had made love to her, using his body as an instrument of pleasure, not punishment as Julian had done, she knew she had the answer to her question. She would do it a million times over. She felt as if she had truly honored her feelings for the first time in her life.

Quinn raked her hair away from her face with an unsteady movement. It wasn’t as if she was ignoring the fact that she’d just made the career-limiting move of all career-limiting moves. It’s just that the emptiness wasn’t enough anymore. She’d had enough of it for a lifetime.

More troublesome, really, was who she’d just shared her soul with. Matteo De Campo, whose attention span with a female lasted about as long as his perusal of the morning paper.

She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed in the fragrance of frangipani, gardenia and magnolia. Matteo had said he wouldn’t have sex with her, he would only make love to her. But he didn’t
love
her. He lusted after her. And therein lay the real foolishness of last night’s actions.

If you were smart, you didn’t wait until Matteo ended an affair with you. You got out first before you were burned. Made a timely exit so the memories were good and the heart was intact.

The humid blanket of air bore down on her. She looked longingly at the clear, turquoise water. Maybe a swim would cool her overheated brain.

* * *

Matteo woke to an empty bed and an urge for a woman that would have been disconcerting if he hadn’t been wondering where in God’s name she was. Followed closely by the even more disturbing reality that he had well and truly crossed the line this time and there was no going back.

A throbbing pressure filled his head. Expanded in his skull until it drove him from the bed and onto the cool tile to look for Quinn. It was like déjà vu, her being gone like this again, except this time everything was different. This time he hadn’t slept with Quinn Davis in a self-medicating, over-the-edge fashion. He had made a conscious decision to be with her. To honor his emotions for her which ran so deep into uncharted territory he didn’t care to contemplate them at the moment.

He pulled on his boxers and strode out onto the terrace, but it, too, was empty. Where would she have gone at just after six in the morning? Was she coming down from the high of last night and realizing what she’d done?

He winced as his head throbbed. There were consequences for both of them. Extreme consequences. He was going to have to tell Riccardo what he’d done, and it wasn’t going to be pretty. But he couldn’t do it until Quinn told the board, he knew the lay of the land and he had all his ducks in order. His brother would not see it as the complex situation it was. He would see it as history repeating itself in the worst, most reckless fashion possible. Matteo playing with another multimillion-dollar deal that could make De Campo’s decade.

His low groan split the air. His brother was going to lose his mind.

Matteo paced to the other end of the patio, looking out over the water. He was a different man than he’d been three years ago. He had been laser-focused on this deal, had laid all the groundwork in a brilliant, understated fashion that would win it for them. He had done his job. Differently than Riccardo would have done, but strategically, it was perfect. Riccardo would crucify him anyway. He didn’t
get
him. Never had.

He lifted his gaze to the sun slipping up from the line of the horizon. It struck him he should be taking the advice he’d given Quinn. He needed to stop trying to live up to everyone’s expectations of him and do what he knew was right. Being with Quinn had been right. He knew it in his bones. He needed to convince Riccardo to believe in
him.
That he would win this deal regardless. That he had always had his eye on the prize.

He was about to go back inside and shower when he saw a lithe figure slicing through the ocean toward their suite.
Quinn.
He sat down on the edge of the pool while she swam the last hundred meters. She hit the edge, reached up to grip the concrete and blinked the water out of her eyes as she looked up at him, wet dark hair floating behind her like a mermaid come to visit.

He cocked a brow. “You like 5:00 a.m. swims too?”

She reached back and squeezed the water out of her hair, a rueful smile curving her mouth. “Only when I’ve had earth-shatteringly good sex with a man I’m supposed to be doing business with and I’m trying to process. Other than that I’m usually an end-of-the-day, sneak-out-of-the-office-for-a-class kind of girl.”

“Earth-shatteringly good,” he repeated, liking the taste of that on his tongue. “That’s when you’re supposed to
stay
in bed for more of the same.”

“Did you hear me say
process?”

“Processing is overrated.” He leaned down, took hold of her hands and hauled her up onto the concrete. “Regrets, Quinn?”

She settled herself down beside him, water dripping from her wickedly good curves. “I think,” she said with a wry twist of her mouth, “I’ve processed that right out of me.”

“Good.” He captured her chin in his fingers and lowered his mouth to hers for a long, lingering kiss. Her lips were soft and salty, capable of endless exploration
.
There was something so right about being with Quinn that he couldn’t see the wrong in it. Even when there were ten million reasons why he should.

Her breathing was choppy when the kiss ended. “Maybe,” she said unsteadily, “you should convince me some more.”

He set her away from him with reluctant hands. “Maybe you should talk to me about Julian first.”

She blinked. “Julian?”

“I want to know.”

Her emerald eyes clouded, her gaze falling away from his. “There isn’t much to say. Our marriage was a disaster on all fronts. Julian married me because I was Warren’s daughter. Because I was the ultimate networking opportunity. He didn’t love me and he couldn’t cope with the wife he got in return.”

He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘couldn’t cope’?”

“He wanted a wife who’d rather host dinner parties than work. Someone who was content to stroke his ego 24/7.”

“Did the man not know you at all? That isn’t you, Quinn.”

“He thought I’d want to give it all up at some point. That
he
should be enough.”

“Did you love him?”

She hugged her knees to her chest. “I was infatuated with him. He was good-looking, successful, everything I
should
have wanted in a husband. The catch of the century if the prebilling was to be believed. But then I learned who he really was.”

A man who had hurt her so badly she didn’t want to go near a bedroom... He ground his teeth together. “So what happened? I know he hurt you and I know the fact that you took up Krav Maga isn’t an accident.”

She looked out over the sparkling water. “I was inexperienced sexually when I married him. I’d had a couple of relationships, none of them great. Julian didn’t like that. The more I disappointed him as a wife, the more I disappointed him out of bed, the more frustrated he was with me in it. The more he wanted to punish me.” She pushed her hair out of her face in a movement he now recognized as a nervous tick. “The more angry he got, the more I retreated. I couldn’t seem to please him. In the end, I was afraid of him. It became Julian asserting his dominance over me in the only way he could.”

His body went tight. “He
assaulted
you?”

She shook her head. “I never refused him. I thought that would just make things worse.”

Flames licked at his skin. “So what
would
you call it then?”

She chewed on the corner of her lip. “Like I said, he was rough.”

He closed his eyes. “Quinn, why didn’t you leave him?”

“Because he was Warren’s choice. Because I knew the dissolution of my marriage would be my father’s biggest disappointment.” Her mouth turned down. “And it was. I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me for it.”

His face darkened. “Please tell me your father didn’t know.”

She turned a scathing glance on him. “How would I tell my father that? Daddy, the man you wanted me to marry has verbally abused me every day of our marriage...has been borderline abusive. Cheated on me with other women...”

The heat flaming through Matteo threatened to fry his brain alive. “He was unfaithful to you?”

She nodded. “At the end. But honestly by then I would have
begged
him to use someone other than me.”

He pressed his fists against the concrete, the desire to use them on Julian Edwards immense. “You should have left. You should never have been with him, your father’s choice or not. Warren would have lost his mind had he known what was going on.”

“But you see that’s not what we do
.

A haunted smile curved her lips. “We Davises specialize in making things work. No matter what. A merger, a marriage. You do not give up. You
make
it a success.”

“That’s an insane statement. What if he had escalated things? Started hitting you?”

She paled. “He wouldn’t have done that. Control was his power. If he had that he was satisfied.”

“You
think
that. That’s how it starts, Quinn. It doesn’t usually end that way.”

She was silent for a moment. Lifted her gaze to the horizon. “He’s gone now. That’s all that matters.”

He studied her defiant profile, her upturned delicate chin. “Didn’t you ever think you deserved more?”

She shook her head. “I saw my marriage as
my
failure. I didn’t want to admit I was incapable of a relationship.”

“That
marriage was not any kind of an assessment of you,” he scowled. “Your husband was a monster. He should have been stopped.”

She looked at him, the vulnerability shining in her beautiful eyes making his heart hurt. “I was hopeless at letting him in. I know in the beginning it was equally as much my fault as it was Julian’s. I can be a supreme bitch when I want to be. I shut people out.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But you can also be an insightful, compassionate, sexy, warm woman if you dig deep enough to find out.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “And you aren’t pushing me away right now.”

Her gaze softened. “You,” she said wryly, “are another matter entirely.”

“Si,”
he agreed, reaching for her. “Story of my life,
bella
. But I know you like it, in fact, I know you
love
it.”

Quinn was attempting to choke out a reply when he sank his hands into her waist, deposited her in his lap and pulled her wet limbs around him. “Sometimes the penny doesn’t drop,” he murmured, tipping her heart-shaped face up to his. “Sometimes things are exactly as you see them.”

He watched that overactive mind of hers try and process that. Then she reached up and ran her finger over his bottom lip, a sultry glitter in her eyes. “What am I supposed to be seeing right now then?”

Matteo captured her finger in his mouth. Ran his tongue over the soft underside of it. Watched her pupils dilate. “You. On top of me.
Now.

A dull rosy glow stained her cheeks. He released her finger. Bent his mouth to her ear, a raspy edge to his voice. “Up on your knees,
cara
.”

She did it. Set her knees down on the concrete on either side of him. And he knew from the sparks in her eyes she was just as turned on as him. Needed more as much as he did.

He ran his hand down her trembling stomach, inside her briefs and explored her soft, yielding flesh with teasing strokes that made her body moisten and ready for him. He hardened so quickly he had to bite back a groan. Then she pressed her lips to his stubble-covered jaw, her breathing jagged, uneven, and he did it anyway. She was so sexy when she let herself go.

“Condom,” he croaked, stumbling inside in an Olympic-worthy performance. When he returned, she straddled him, released him and slid the condom on. He reached down and pulled her bathing suit aside.
“Portami dentro di te tesoro,”
he murmured. “Take me inside of you, sweetheart.”

She reached down and grasped the thick, highly aroused length of him. This time his groan split the air in a fractured moan. Quinn brushed him against her core. Teased him. When he thought he might die, she took him inside her. Slowly, torturously, her gasp filling his ears. It made him feel proud, intensely male that he could do that to her and he swelled even larger inside her. Forced himself to stay completely still as she sank down on him. More, more, until he was buried completely in her.

BOOK: The Truth About De Campo
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