Page 110 of Matteo

She instantly takes my hands in hers. She’s very good at noticing my moods.

“Nothing.” I lie. “Just need a little TLC.”

She steps closer, sliding her arms around me.

“Boundaries,” I whisper, putting my arms around her waist with absolutely no intention of keeping those boundaries.

“You sure everything's okay?” She looks up at me, concern filling her eyes, while her hand skates quickly over my bottom. She gives me a playful squeeze, but it only presses my cock further against her.

“Oooooh,” she murmurs, appreciation dripping from her voice.

“Like the feel of that?” I raise a brow.

“Very much.” She squeezes me again.

I smile in response. “What are you doing tonight?” Because I don’t want to think about tissue typing and surgery.

“It depends.” She rises onto her tiptoes, and her luscious, hard-to-resist lips curve into a smile. “What do you have in mind?”

I cup her face and kiss her. It’s not gentle, or soft. It’s fire and hunger, it’s frustration coupled with lust. I claim her mouth greedily, the kiss stealing the breath from my lungs, and every thought and worry from my head. Her hands slide up my chest and she grinds her hips against me.

“Come back to my place,” I rasp, when we finally pull apart. It’s bold, but I wait with bated breath for her answer.

She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t say ‘No’.

“We don’t have to—” I don’t want her to think I’m just inviting her over for sex.

“I know.” Her eyes never leave mine.

“Stay overnight?” I add, “Only if you want to.”

“Okay.”

“It’ll be nice,” I say quickly. “I’ll make dinner.”

“You can cook?”

“I sure can.”

A quiet moment passes, the realization that we won’t have to steal glances or secret kisses. We’ll be able to exist together. We move away, slowly, awareness sinking in of where we are, but our fingers brush together.

She seems to consider it.

“We’ll spend the evening together,” I tell her. “It’ll be nice.” It’s what I need, something to look forward to after the heaviness of the day. “We can plan the vacation.”

Her eyes light up. “I'll come.”

Just then the door opens, and the old man walks in.

Though we're not kissing, or have our arms wrapped around one another, we're still standing close enough that it looks inappropriate.

Elizabeth springs away quickly, turns to the monitor screen before us, and starts explaining.

“I'll have another dig around and let you know,” she says, sounding professional. “Mr. Knight. You’re at work today?”

“Need to keep an eye on things.”

She nods at my father before making a swift exit.