Page 94 of The Fall Affair

The guy grumbled what I thought might’ve been an apology and shoved past. I held my breath for the remaining eight stops.

Matteo shook his head as we got off on the platform. “You put up with this every day?”

“Oh, it’s not like this every day. Sometimes it gets scary.”

Matteo’s eyes widened.

I chuckled. “I’m joking. But seriously, most of the time if you just ignore everyone, they leave you alone.”

“Most of the time,” he grumbled. “Great.”

The short walk from the subway station to my apartment was appreciatively dull. While I’d been wary about how Matteo would react to taking trains, I was actually excited for him to see where I lived. The uniform-clad doorman opened the door as we approached.

“Miss B.” He smiled. “Nice to see you. It’s been a while.”

“Hey, Ray. How are you?”

“How was Italy? Did you bring me home a souvenir?”

I smiled and looked over at the man following close behind. “Not this time. But this is Matteo. He’s staying with me while we’re here, so you might see him coming and going.”

Ray grinned. “Nice. Brought yourself home a souvenir instead.”

I laughed. Inside the elevator I pushed the button to my floor.

“Fifty-six?” Matteo said. “Are the lower floors more expensive?”

“Just the opposite. The higher you go, the pricier—because of the view, and it’s quieter.”

My one-bedroom apartment was modest in size, but the view was spectacular—at least I thought so. It wasn’t rolling hills or sunlit vineyards like Tuscany, but it had a wow factor of its own. Unlocking the door, I left the lights off as we entered, letting New York be the only illumination.

Matteo dropped the bags to the floor, and I took his hand, bringing him to the glass. Skyscrapers shimmered with thousands of tiny lights, and avenues below glowed like rivers with red taillights flowing one way and headlights coming the other. Neon signs pulsed, and amber streetlights washed the sidewalks in gold. To the left, the 59th Street bridge glittered, and to the right, the East River reflected the city’s glow in ripples of silver.

“It looks alive,” he said. “Like it’s breathing.”

I loved watching him take it all in. “It’s not Tuscany. But it’s mine.”

He turned, eyes catching mine in the glow. “I can feel this city in you.”

I smiled. “What do you want to do first? You’re probably hungry. Would you rather go out to eat? Order in? Take a shower?”

Matteo leaned close, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “You,” he whispered. “I want to do you.”

And just like that, every worry I’d had about bringing him here disappeared. The doubts, the second-guessing—gone. All that existed was him.

He stepped behind me, pulling my hair to one side before pressing his mouth to the curve of my neck. The scrape of his stubble and the gravel in his voice shot heat through me when he murmured, “Can people see in?”

I swallowed and shook my head. “The glass is mirrored on the other side.”

“Eccellente.” He trailed his knuckles down my side, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. “Hands on da glass,” he ordered softly.

I shivered but braced my palms flat against the cool pane. Outside, New York pulsed, a million things happening at once, but inside, behind these windows, the world narrowed to only the two of us.

Matteo’s body pressed flush against mine, his hard chest against my back, heat searing through the thin material of my long skirt. He bent and slipped a hand under the hem, bunching it up to my waist. His other hand slid to my throat, fingers curving around it and holding tight as he nipped at my ear. This was a different Matteo than I’d experienced back in Tuscany. His desire seemed to match the pulse of the city, and I was here for it.

“Look at them,” he rasped against my ear. His fingers at my neck tightened the slightest bit. “All those people rushing around, never knowing how bellissima you’re going to look while I fuck you right here.”

I whimpered, and my hot breath fogged the glass as my thighs squeezed together. Matteo wedged his knee between my legs, forcing them open. His fingers dipped beneath the edge of my panties, and I gasped when he swiped at my wetness.