Page 127 of Matteo

“For listening.” She swivels the stool and turns towards me again, leaning closer and giving me a long and languorous kiss. My insides fire up, and I groan, my hand skating under her short skirt. But it's almost impossible for me to get through the armor of her opaque tights and gain entry into her panties.

Fucking Fort Knox.

“Take your panties off.”

Her eyes pop wide open. “W-what?”

“Your panties. Off.”

She blinks a few times, but does as I say, slowly peeling off her pantyhose, then her panties.

“Might as well lose the skirt.”

She obeys immediately, then sits back on the kitchen stool, naked from the waist down. My cock jumps for joy, straining at the fabric of my jeans.

“Sit back,” I command, positioning the stool so that the back of it rests against the kitchen island. She obeys. I hop off my stool, slowly push her knees apart, then I drop to the floor and gawk at her glistening folds. I lick my lips, my cock steel hard as I plant my face between her legs and kiss her there slowly.

Chapter 30

ELIZABETH

A vein pops in the middle of Matteo's forehead. He's sitting near the window, but he's squashed. I offered to take his middle seat, which would have been worse for him, sitting sandwiched between me and the large elderly woman sitting beside me.

Matteo has been trying to sleep. His head bent at an awkward angle, jaw locked tight. And every few seconds he keeps shifting position. Trying to get comfortable. The U-shaped travel pillow around his neck isn't helping much.

I feel so bad when I see the way his long legs are bunched up and pressing against the back of the seat in front.

I place a hand on his thigh, just because. Because I'm touched by his sweet solidarity and I'm so happy that he's sitting here with me in economy instead of first class. I hate that he's uncomfortable, but I don't mind that he's grumpy.

I’ll make it up to him when we land.

I manage to get a few hours of sleep somewhere over the Atlantic, my head tilted awkwardly against the window, but every time I stir, he’s awake. Staring ahead. Restless. By the time we land in Dubrovnik, after what feels like a lifetime of flying from New York to Frankfurt and then on again.

When we step into the arrivals hall, I’m already reaching for my phone to check the hotel address and to call a taxi when I notice a man standing just beyond the barrier, holding a sign.

Elizabeth Raven.

I blink, slowing to a stop. The man notices, and steps forward. “Elizabeth Raven?” He’s wearing a uniform of sorts, and is the epitome of polite professionalism.

“Yes,” I say, surprised.

“I’m here to take you to your hotel.”

I hesitate, glancing at Matteo. “I was just going to get a taxi,” I tell the man.

“There is no need. Your travel is already arranged,” the driver replies smoothly, reaching for the handle of my trolley bag. Beside me, Matteo lets out a quiet breath, low enough that only I hear it.

“You wouldn’t travel first class,” he mutters, “but your friend Vlad has booked you a chauffeur and you’re okay with that.”

There’s an edge to his voice which I ignore because I don’t want to pour fuel over the fire. We’re both exhausted and grumpy with one another, barely talking. A fourteen-hour flight has killed the joy, even though we were so excited last night after ending up in bed, my knees boneless from Matteo eating me out in the kitchen. We’d barely slept before the flight and things have only deteriorated.

We follow the driver outside into the warm Croatian air, a welcome relief after the stuffiness of recycled cabin air.

The Merc is sleek, black and expensive. I sink into the seat and watch the city blur past as we drive toward the old town.

What possessed Vlad to get a driver when I could have so easily called a taxi?

I haven’t seen him in three years, not since he left the States. We text, sometimes. Once a month, maybe. Just enough to check in. Just enough for him to make sure I’m okay. At least, that’s what it always feels like. Even from another continent, Vlad makes sure I’m okay. He knows about my cybersecurity firm, but I didn’t tell him that I had a contract with Knight Enterprises.