Page 63 of The Fall Affair

My heart raced as I watched the status go from Delivered to Read. The dots on the screen started to bounce around, then stopped and started twice before an incoming text arrived.

Matteo: You’re gorgeous. And that photo just made its way into my private folder.

A shiver ran down my spine.

Allegra: And what exactly are the photos in your private folder used for?

Matteo: I think you know the answer to that.

My thighs pressed together thinking of Matteo pleasuring himself to my picture. I hadn’t intended this conversation to go this way, but now that it had…

Allegra: I think it’s only fair that I have a picture for my private folder, then.

This time a response didn’t come right away. After a minute or two, I thought maybe I’d taken things too far. But then my phone chimed, a photo lit up my screen, and my breath caught.

Oh. My. God.

Matteo was sprawled across his bed, sheet slung low on his hips. His muscular chest was bare, and his beautiful Italian skin was golden and smooth except for the sexy happy trail that led down to where it was covered. One arm was bent behind his head, showing off the cut of his biceps, and his gaze was on me, even through the photo. And God, the sinful smirk on his lips made it impossible to look away.

After a few minutes of staring, I swallowed.

Allegra: I’m speechless, and that’s saying something. LOL. Wow. Just wow. I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep after seeing that. I’m a little riled up.

His near-instant response left no doubt that he’d been waiting for my text.

Matteo: For the record, my door is open if you ever want to come see it in person…

It was tempting. Beyond tempting. Every nerve in my body felt alive as I thought about slipping out of bed and going to Matteo’s room. I could almost feel the heat of his skin and smell his familiar masculine scent. But the fantasy was safer than the reality. If I crossed that line, I wasn’t sure I could ever come back. So instead, I typed.

Allegra: Good night, Matteo.

***

When I woke the next morning, I was so freaked out and focused on my upcoming appointment that there was no room to feel uncomfortable about my sexy photo exchange with Matteo last night.

“Morning,” he said as he emerged from his bedroom.

I looked at my watch. “Did you sleep this late?”

He shook his head. “I had a little trouble falling asleep last night.”

I smiled, but it didn’t linger.

“Nervous?” Matteo walked over to the espresso maker.

“Who, me?” I held up my hands. “No. I always wake up with a knot in my stomach and my palms sweating like I’m on trial for murder.” I pulled at the top of my T-shirt. “And…I have bumps. Thankfully, I packed a bottle of calamine lotion, anticipating that I might be a wreck.”

“How can I help?”

“I could use some of my grandmother’s sparkles right now. Any chance you have those?”

“Sparkles?”

“When I was a little girl, I was sometimes afraid at night when I’d first come to stay with her. It was so quiet here compared to New York, and I heard every little creak of the old house and the wind blowing outside. Nonna would always check on me a half hour or so after I went to bed, and if she found me awake, she would come into the room and tell me to sit up so she could sprinkle a bit of sparkles on my hair. She said sparkles made women stronger.”

Matteo’s lips curved. “That sounds like Sophia.”

“When I came to Tuscany after my grandfather died, I remember Nonna had sparkles in her hair for the funeral. She said she’d needed a little extra strength that day.”