Page 50 of Untamed

Wide. Caught. Something flickering behind them, guilt, want, maybe both.

“No,” she says, barely above a whisper.

I hum, taking a sip of my coffee. “Hm. Shame.”

Matteo keeps talking, completely oblivious to the current humming between us. He doesn’t notice the way Jordyn’s shoulders tense when I shift beside her. Doesn’t see the way her thighs press together under the table. He’s completely unaware of the storm building two seats away.

I glance at Jordyn again.

She looks away first

But not before I catch the way her thighs squeeze together under the table and the way she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. Just like she did last night while she was coming. Just watching the gesture takes me right back to that moment.

It was late. The Russo Manor had gone quiet hours ago. I hadn’t planned on staying up, but sleep never comes easy in this place. Not when the ghosts never stay buried. Not when silence lets the memories crawl out from under your skin.

I stepped onto the terrace outside my room, cigarette already lit, hoping the night air would clear the noise from my head.

That’s when I saw them.

Across the grounds, at the far end of the property, the terrace lights glowed low and warm against the stone. The infinity pool shimmered under the moonlight, the water calm, except for the ripples they were making.

Matteo.

And her.

My grip tightened on the railing, knuckles bone-white as I watched.

Jordyn was in his arms, straddling him in the shallow end. His hands were on her thighs, her hips. He was guiding her movements with that smug, cocksure control he thinks makes him a man. Her head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut, lips parted.

And Matteo, he looked like he’d just won the fucking lottery.

My chest burned.

Not with anger. Not yet.

No. It was something colder. Heavier. The kind of ache that sits just behind your ribs and waits to consume you when you let your guard down.

I took a slow drag from the cigarette, trying to school my face, trying to convince myself it didn’t matter.

It wasn’t real. It was heat. A moment. Nothing permanent.

Except itfeltreal.

It looked real.

And that messed me up more than I’ll ever admit.

Because I’ve touched plenty of women. Hell, I fucked one less than an hour ago. I took what I wanted and walked away clean. But when I saw her wrapped around him like that, letting him pull those sounds from her, letting himownthat moment, I wanted to put my fist through the glass.

I should’ve looked away.

But I didn’t.

I watched until she slipped off him, until they whispered something I couldn’t hear, until she climbed out of the pool, water running down her body like something holy.

She disappeared through the gate at the side, a towel clutched in one hand.

Matteo stayed a minute longer, floating on his back like he hadn’t just touched something sacred with dirty hands.

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