Page 76 of Ice To Meet You

I chuckled. “What can I say? I have great stamina, and right now, I want to use it to make you happy.”

I brushed the back of my hand over her breast and herbreath caught. I moved closer, whispering words at her neck. “Do you want to go again, or bail?”

I’d asked her the same question earlier, on the zip line. Then, she’d chosen the first option and, as far as I could tell, I hadn’t disappointed.

Esmé ran her fingertips over my cheek before trailing them across my chest and down to my stomach. My muscles jumped under her touch.

“Go again,” she whispered, bringing her hand to close around my dick.

I smiled, curling my fingers through the hair at her nape. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

25

ESMÉ

The early morning sun streamed through my kitchen window, bouncing off the smooth olive skin of Matteo’s back. I’d woken this morning with his arms wrapped around me and his soft breath at my neck.

The second his eyelashes opened; he’d asked me a question.

“No regrets?”

My stomach shifted. I’d wrestled with that thought all night.

Did I regret what we’d done? The way he made me feel? No.

But did that mean we could just pick up where they left off? Also, no.

I hadn’t opened the gallery yesterday. Instead, we’d stayed in bed. We’d let Claudette in downstairs, and she’d spent the rest of the day following Matteo around. It was the first time she'd ever ventured, let alone stayed, upstairs.

Matteo made pasta again, and I’d cobbled together a salad from my limited fridge supplies. But like all good things that must end, today would bring a dose of reality. We’d get back to our normal routine.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive,” he said, shaking his head, looking into the void of my vegetable crisper.

I giggled, tickling Claudette’s ears. She was up early, padding around the counter, purring like a Ferrari.Over the weekend, she’d taken to coming and going via the balcony. Lord only knew how she managed to climb up.

“I can last until I get coffee, if you can,” he said, shutting the fridge door.

I ran my eyes over him. His curls were damp from the shower, and he smelled of my shower gel. He wore the same clothes he’d worn zip lining. I’d washed and dried them, along with mine.

He kissed me on the temple before heading to the front door, opening it with a click of the lock.

“Where are you going?”

Matteo grinned. “To get your coffee. Just because I stayed over doesn’t mean I should slouch in my duties, boss.” He turned, moving toward the door that led to the gallery.

My stomach lurched. “Hey! You can’t go that way.”

He stopped on the step, looking at me like I’d asked him to get my coffee naked. “Why?”

I chewed the side of my lip, my gut shifting gently. “What if someone saw you?”

He stared at me, his expression blank. “Why would they? It’s too early for anyone to be here.”

I ran my fingers through my hair, tucking it behind my ear. “But it’s exhibition week. Maurice or Lola could arrive at any time. How would you explain being dressed like … that?”

He glanced down at his T-shirt and sweatpants, then shrugged. “They’d probably think I was going for a bohemian look. I think I look very artistic.”

His gorgeous grin made my chest ache, but he wasn’t taking the hint. I sighed. “Matteo, you haven’t shaved since Friday, and you smell like my shower gel. They’d know you stayed here.”

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