As he sweeps his arm toward the door, we step off in synchronicity, like we always do.
The front of the estate looks different, but it’s not the actual property; it’s the guards and the general mood. It’s easy to see there has been a change of staff while we’ve been inside. Matteo greets them like they’re old friends.
He talks to a couple—a man and a woman—asking for an update on the security as we walk to the Escalade. Once we get there, he gives them a dismissive wave, turning all his focus to me. He opens the door for the dogs before opening mine.
We have so much to say, but we don’t end up talking. I think it’s because we’re both lacking in control, and if either of us offers even a flimsy excuse, Matteo’s plans for our night will fly out the window.
As we approach De Luca tower, it’s easy to see I misjudged how many people they have in their tight circle, but also how I thought everyone who was anyone was at our wedding dinner. They’re clearly not. The security as we get around the final turn into the garage is even more evident.
Matteo slows at the entrance, where a group of guards block the ramp, even though the roller door to the garage is down. But when they see it’s him, they step away.
He slows enough to speak to the head guard. “We’ll be heading out again soon. Any issues?”
“None, sir.”
“Good. Dante and Valentine are still there.”
“We heard it went off without a hitch.”
“You heard right.”
Matteo drives off, and the happiness on his face makes my chest squeeze. He parks where we usually do, and I beat him to let the dogs out this time. Surprisingly, I only get a small rumble of warning about getting out before he’s confirmed it’s safe. But the both of us know we’re probably the safest either of us has been for a long time.
In the elevator up to the apartment, I talk puppy business with the dogs, promising them a long play in the park tomorrow, and Matteo leaves me with a stern look, which I interpret to meandon’t be long.
“Any clues on where we’re going, Matteo, so I know what to wear?” I giggle as he gets caught up in his anticipation. I’m not sure he’s even realized he’s running off to his room before the elevator doors have even closed behind me.
“A skirt. No panties. No bra. Maybe a top, so I don’t have to murder anyone looking at you.”
Before I’ve even reached my bedroom, I hear his shower start. Grabbing a couple of options for what I want to wear, I drop my clothes on Dante’s bed and retrace my steps to thekitchen to feed and water the dogs as fast as humanly possible, because I am exactly like Matteo, so hot and ready for our date.
I turn on the television for the dogs, to keep them company while we’re out, then move their beds in front of the television. They’ve earned a night of luxury after being so protective of me tonight.
Leaving the dogs looking at me like I’ve lost my brain, I start undressing on my way to Dante’s bathroom. The draw of being in his space is what is driving my urge, and since the De Lucas keep telling me to trust myself more, I luxuriate in the moment, instead of giving in to the question of whether I should be here.
My poor dress is covered in bloody handprints, but there is no way I’m throwing it out. It’s the best souvenir I’ve ever had, and I’m thinking of getting it framed. Thinking of souvenirs, I leave one for Dante—my panties on his pillow.
Showering, then fixing my makeup in record time, I’m racing out of Dante’s bedroom in a long, flowing skirt and tight bandeau top as Matteo is walking back from my room, where he’d obviously been looking for me.
His eyes flare. “Jesus, Layne. I’m supposed to be taking you on a date first.”
“You like?”
He scowls one moment, and the next, he’s being overly bossy. “Get your ass downstairs and in my car, right this second.”
“Yes, sir!” I say, licking my lips intentionally while sticking my tits out. I’m doing him a favor, since he can’t seem to take his eyes off them.
“Layne,” he growls as the elevator doors open, but I’m already inside and pouncing on him. My hand cups him over his jeans, and his cock is rock hard.
“Let me take the edge off,” I suggest, stroking him.
“No,” he hisses.
I whine under my breath and wrap my hand tighter around his length as he rocks into my hand.
“Why?”
He groans softly, dropping his hand over mine and squeezing harder. “Because I want to blow inside you.”
