Page 51 of The Fall Affair

One song bled to the next, and before I knew it, more than an hour had gone by. Various men had tried to dance with us, but Luciana and I were having fun, and most took the hint when we paid them no attention. Though at one point, a very handsome guy walked over, and Luciana threw her arms around his neck. He lifted her off her feet and spun her around. When he set her down, she attempted to introduce us, but the music was so loud I couldn’t make out anything she was saying. The guy stuck around to dance with the two of us, and I wondered if it might be the man she was seeing who owned the club.

Then a few minutes later, another guy came over. Luciana and the first guy seemed to know him, so he joined in the dancing in our little area, and our party of three turned into two parties of two. The man I was coupled with danced close—it was practically impossible not to with how many people were crammed onto the dance floor. But he never pushed up against me like some guys had attempted to do. I closed my eyes again, enjoying the beat of the song, until I felt a hard body against my back—this time too close. Not wanting to cause a scene, I took a few steps forward to put some distance between us. But a hand snaked around my waist and pulled me back. I whipped around, about to go all New York on the asshole, only to find it was Matteo.

I blinked. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been asking myself that question for twenty minutes.”

“You’ve been here that long?”

He nodded.

“Where were you?”

He thumbed over his shoulder. “Watching you.” His eyes lifted over my head, and he raised his chin. I followed his line of sight and found a beaming Luciana. She winked at me and went back to dancing with whoever that guy was.

I turned to Matteo. “Do you want to go sit?”

He reached for my hand and used it to spin me around so he was behind me again. “In a minute.” Pressed up against me, with fingers digging into my hip, Matteo led, and our bodies moved as one to the beat. Every brush, every touch sparked a fire. I leaned back into him, lifting my arms and hooking them behind his neck. Our hips gyrated in unison, and I let myself fall into him completely. The crowded club faded away, and all I felt were the tips of his fingers trailing up my side, his hard against my soft, and a delicious ache for more.

After a few songs, Matteo leaned and spoke into my ear with a gravelly voice. “Take a break for a bit?”

I nodded, and he led us off the dance floor. “We have a table.” I pointed. “Up there.”

We went upstairs, and the waitress came over as soon as we sat down. Both Matteo and I ordered waters. I fanned myself. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Have you been here the whole time since you dropped us off?”

He shook his head. “I was halfway home when I changed my mind about staying.” His eyes dipped, sweeping over me before meeting mine again. “Or maybe I couldn’t get my mind off how you look tonight.”

I smiled. “I’m happy you came back.”

Matteo’s eyes bounced back and forth between mine. “Are you? Because I debated leaving a half dozen times while I was watching you. You looked like you were having a good time out there, and yesterday, I wasn’t sure you were too happy to see me at your door. I don’t want to overstep.”

“I’m just…” I shook my head. “Dealing with some stuff.”

He caught my eyes. “You sure?”

I didn’t want to make Matteo feel bad, and the truth was, I’d liked dancing with him. A lot—whether I wanted to enjoy it or not. So I smiled. “I’m happy you came back. I had no idea you could dance like that.”

“Only with the right partner.”

My feet had started to hurt on the dance floor before Matteo showed up, but now that they weren’t holding weight anymore, they began to throb. “I think I need to take these shoes off for a few minutes. I’m used to wearing heels to work, but not stilettos this high.”

I reached down to undo the ankle straps. Once my feet were free, I let out a big sigh. “Ahh. That feels good.”

Matteo leaned beneath the table and scooped up my feet. “Let me make them feel even better.”

“You don’t have to…” He pressed two thumbs into the arch of my right foot, and my sentence trailed off. “Oh God, don’t stop. That feels amazing.”

He smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

There were probably two hundred people in the club, yet just like when we were on the dance floor, it felt like only the two of us again. Matteo’s attention always felt special, like his focus was solely on me. I’d figured that was because most of the times we’d been together, there was nothing to distract him. But now we were in a place with dozens of scantily clad women and people gyrating all over each other on the dance floor, yet he still made me feel like the only woman in the room.

“I didn’t take you for a clubber,” I said.

Matteo put down my right foot and picked up the left, kneading into the arch. “I’m not. It’s only the second time I’ve ever stepped foot inna one.”