He didn’t answer. Just dipped his head and brushed his lips over mine with ridiculous tenderness for a man who could break skulls without blinking.
Warmth bloomed under my skin – hotter than the sun touching our faces.
I kissed him back, slow and lingering, letting the new day pour gold around us. The city woke, cars honked far below, but up here it felt like the world held its breath.
Just me and Matteo.
No pretending.
Only us.
Chapter 32
Present
Upper-East Side, New York City
STEAM CURLED AROUND US, BLURRING the glass and turning the shower into our own private cloud. Warm water cascaded over my shoulders, tracing paths down my skin before dripping onto Matteo’s chest where he stood behind me, hands settled at my hips like they belonged there.
It was early evening – the fourth one we’d spent like this, half-naked or fully, lost in each other like oxygen didn’t matter. The city outside moved on without us, and for once, I wasn’t racing to keep up.
His mouth found the curve of my neck, slow and sinful, while his fingers ran soap along my stomach.
“We should probably rejoin civilization soon,” Matteo murmured against my skin, voice deep and amused.
I smirked. “Planning to show me off?”
He spun me gently to face him, water droplets clinging to his lashes. His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth.
“Planning to take you out on a date.”
I arched a brow.
“Dinner, wine, making you blush across a table.” He leaned in closer, lips grazing mine. “Unless you’re scared, of course…”
I scoffed. “I’m not falling for that again!”
He laughed, low and warm, crowding me against the marble wall like he couldn’t help himself. “You really think you’re winning this game?”
I slid my fingers into his wet hair, tugging just enough to make his breath hitch. “I know I am.”
His smirk deepened. “Then you won’t mind getting dressed. We’re leaving in an hour.”
“Pushy,” I muttered, even as heat curled in my stomach at the thought of going outtogethertogether.
He kissed me – slow, sweet, like sunrise and love – and it made my knees weak.
When we finally pulled apart, the water had long since stopped being the warmest thing in the room.
“Let’s go,” he nudged my hip playfully towards the shower glass door, slapping my ass. “If you stay any longer, we won’t make it out the door.”
I brushed past him deliberately, letting my fingers trail across his lower abs. “Maybe that’s the point.”
He smirked. “Dinner first, Mrs. Di’Ablo.”
We stepped out of the shower together, steam following us into the bedroom. The city’s evening glow bled through the penthouse windows – gold and violet – and somewhere between the closet doors and the vanity mirror, we began to dress.
Date night.
